OPEN WORLD REVISIONISM
Around the time Kingdom Come: Deliverance was released, the evolution of open-world games had begun to stagnate. The genre had turned in on itself, endlessly recycling the same mechanics from one release to the next. The prevailing attitude seemed to be: we’ve perfected the formula—now let’s exploit it until players grow tired of it.
Kingdom Come: Deliverance arrived and quietly demonstrated another path forward. Rather than chasing spectacle, it encourages—almost forces—the player to slow down and inhabit its world. Set in early 15th-century Bohemia, it embraces a confounding level of realism. Somber music accompanies long walks and horseback rides through rolling green landscapes, while the sky is rendered not as a dramatic fantasy backdrop but as a natural, photorealistic blue. Its beauty feels organic, never performative.
That authenticity extends beyond presentation. Gameplay systems, dialogue, and narrative all reinforce the same philosophy. Survival, learning a trade, earning money, and simply getting by are as central to the experience as the story itself. Money is always scarce, and you’re offered a wide range of legal and illegal ways to scrape together a few groschen.
You must eat, sleep, maintain your clothes and armor, and occasionally bathe—lest people respond poorly to your appearance. Food spoils if kept too long in your saddlebags (unless dried), and eating it can make you sick. The game cuts remarkably few corners in simulating the life of a peasant in medieval Bohemia.
Players familiar with early Elder Scrolls titles—Daggerfall and Morrowind in particular—will feel right at home. Skills improve through use: swordplay by fighting, bartering by haggling, athleticism by running and jumping. As a result, nearly every activity feels meaningful. Even getting drunk or picking mushrooms contributes to your growth. When I needed a safe way to practice swordsmanship, I made sure no one was watching and attacked grazing cattle outside a village. It also provided more meat than I could carry.
The story follows a classic rags-to-riches structure. You play as Henry, the son of a blacksmith whose life is shattered when his village is raided and burned, his parents killed, and a sword forged for Sir Radzig stolen by a brigand who leaves Henry for dead. That sword becomes the game’s central MacGuffin, propelling Henry across the countryside on errands for Radzig, whose cause he adopts out of loyalty and circumstance.
What begins as a personal quest soon expands into a broader tale of political intrigue, betrayal, and looming warfare. You’ll visit towns, villages, mines, murder scenes, bandit camps, and a monastery—and, if you so choose, even participate in an orgy alongside a priest.
Before playing, I found the idea of a medieval open world without fantastical elements slightly off-putting. In practice, Kingdom Come is rich with compelling content, largely thanks to the quality of its writing. While it doesn’t quite reach the heights of The Witcher 3, it offers memorable characters and storylines. Henry himself is a solid protagonist, though his kind and humble demeanor can feel at odds with your actions if you choose a more criminal path.
The supporting cast is well realized. Theresa, Henry’s love interest, is a playful presence, and Hans—the spoiled heir who begins as an antagonist—grows into a genuinely likable ally. What stands out most is how characters speak and behave according to social class: peasants converse in thick dialects about practical matters, while nobles speak eloquently on grander topics—at least until they’re thoroughly drunk.
Mission design is consistently strong and refreshingly open-ended. Most quests can be solved in multiple ways, drawing on your full range of skills. Combat is relatively rare and sometimes avoidable altogether; dialogue, investigation, and stealth are often more effective. The game’s systemic simulation of medieval life further supports this. Everyone follows a daily routine, and exploiting that knowledge—poisoning a bandit camp’s food and waiting for dinner, for instance—can provide decisive advantages.
Combat, when it happens, often feels like a last resort—and that’s fortunate, because it’s one of the game’s weaker aspects. The system relies on stances, angles, and stamina management. In theory, it’s thoughtful and tactical; in practice, Henry often failed to respond as I intended (which may say as much about my panic as the system itself). Combo attacks exist, but I’m not convinced I ever executed one successfully.
What did surprise me were the larger-scale battles. Raids on bandit camps and clashes with small armies are thrilling and surprisingly functional. Watching allies fall while others push forward created genuine tension, and these sequences culminate in excellent, varied finales that had my adrenaline pumping.
Many activities are handled manually through dedicated mini-games: sharpening blades, brewing potions, lockpicking, pickpocketing, gambling. It’s a bold approach and a mixed bag. Some are excellent, others less so. Ranged combat is particularly frustrating due to the lack of an aiming reticle. Fast travel—represented by watching Henry move across a map while remaining vulnerable to ambushes—is clever but eventually becomes tiresome, especially when you’re repeatedly attacked by enemies you have little chance of defeating.
The save system may be the game’s most divisive feature. Saving is only possible in owned or rented beds, or by drinking Savior Schnapps—a consumable that causes drunkenness and is expensive early on unless you gather its ingredients yourself. While checkpoints soften the blow during missions, losing half an hour of progress to a random ambush can feel brutally unfair.
Not every hour is rewarding. Some quests are frustratingly opaque, failing to clearly communicate how to proceed. I solved an investigation involving dying villagers only to find it never properly resolved. An optional treasure hunt offered clues so vague they bordered on useless. In another case, I wasted hours attempting to infiltrate a monastery, only to discover access was gated behind main quest progression.
In the crowded landscape of open-world games, Kingdom Come: Deliverance occupies a singular niche. Its relentless commitment to immersion is both its greatest strength and its greatest flaw. At its best—particularly during investigation-heavy quests like the monastery storyline—it offers an unparalleled sense of agency and consequence. It allows you to fail, sometimes spectacularly, without breaking the experience.
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