Dear Gamers, we seriously need to talk about the most serious review I have ever seriously written
In the distance, you hear a sound. Soft at first, but getting louder. Closer. It’s like a hiss of steam forcing its way out of a busted pipe.
Suddenly, it gets sharper, right in your ear.
“PSSSSSSSSSSSST!”
You jolt up, surprised. You open your eyes, dispelling the inky black void of sleep.
You: “What? Where am I?”
You’re confused. Disoriented.
The Voice: “You’re here.”
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but there’s a voice. Calm, and a little snooty.
You: “Where is here?”
The Voice: “In The Game, of course.”
You rub your eyes, looking around for the source of the voice.
You: “What game? WHERE THE HELL AM I?”
The Voice: “You’re at the start of The Game. It’s time to choose.”
You: “Choose? Choose WHAT? And where are you??”
You hear an annoyed sigh.
The Voice: “You need to choose your starting weapon.”
Three objects snap into existence on a wooden table in front of you, landing with a clattering chorus of clangs.
On the left, you see a broken sword, the blade snapped just inches above the handle. In the center, a fancy ballpoint pen. And on the right, a roll of… duct tape?
You: “Why do I need a weapon? And do two of these even count as weapons?!”
The Voice: “What they are is determined by how you use them.”
You can hear the self-satisfied smirk in the voice’s reply.
You: “Why do I need to choose one of these?”
The Voice: “Each one is a useful tool, and will help determine your starting stats and sub-class.”
You stare blankly at the void above the table in the direction whence the voice seems to originate.
You: “My… what???”
Another sigh. More frustrated this time.
A brief pause. Followed by a single word.
The Voice: “CHOOSE.”
You flinch.
You: “…can I at least ask what they do? For the whole stats and… sub-class thing?”
The voice takes a deep breath, and relents.
The Voice: “By default, your primary class is a Bard. You are a teller of tales, a recorder of histories, and a peddler or pretty but pedantic idioms.”
You: “Hey!”
The voice ignores your interjection.
The Voice: “By selecting a weapon, you can alter your base stats and equip a sub-class.”
A red light falls on the broken sword.
The Voice: “The sword offers a sharp edge that your wit sorely lacks–”
You ready another outburst but the voice presses on.
The Voice: “Take it up to receive a +2 boost to strength, but suffer a -1 to your constitution. It is a broken blade after all. Additionally, you’ll attain the sub-class Bard Brigand.”
A blue light falls on the pen.
The Voice: “The pen is an apt tool for transforming your trade. The oral tradition of storytelling is great and all, but you won’t be around forever so writing things down offers utility.”
You eye the pen, now suddenly worrying about your own mortality in this bizarre game.
The Voice: “Take it up to receive +1 to both wisdom and intelligence, but suffer -1 to strength. With it, you’ll gain the sub-class Bard Scholar.”
Now a green light falls on the duct tape.
The Voice: “In the current era, duct tape is often revered as the cure to many of man’s ills.”
You: “I’m sorry, it’s what?!”
Again, the voice ignores you.
The Voice: “A truly multi-faceted item; take it up to receive +1 to both strength and charm, but suffer -2 to dexterity. Shit’s a pain to fix when it sticks to itself.”
You: “…shit’s… a pain… when it sticks to itself?!”
The Voice: “Indeed. Also, gain access to the sub-class Bard Janitor.”
You: “Bard JANITOR?!”
Again, the voice ignores your outbursts.
The Voice: “Choose.”
The single word response reverberates in the air.
You blink. Stunned at the situation. Looking at the objects before you, your mind races with what to do.
You extend a hand towards the table – and then stop.
You: “Do I get a better explanation of what these stats do? Or what the point of this game is? Isn’t there some sort of tutorial for all this?”
The Voice: “A tutorial?”
You: “Yes, a tutorial.”
The Voice: “You don’t need a tutorial. If you just play The Game, you’ll learn.”
The voice sounds exasperated.
The Voice: “Experience is the greatest teacher. NOW CHOOSE.”
You: “Experience my ass!”
You’ve lost your temper now. And you’re a little scared.
You: “I don’t know WHERE I AM or WHAT I’M DOING and I’ve got a disembodied voice telling me over and over, CHOOSE.”
You pause to catch your breath. There’s no response.
You scan your eyes over the void above the table again.
You: “Why can’t I see you? Who even are you?”
The voice laughs.
The Voice: “It’s about time you asked.”
You: “What does that mean?”
The Voice: “It means, you should have asked my name in the first place. To be quite frank, not asking to get to know me is rude.”
You make a face, pissed and a little offended… but also inwardly admitting that they’re kinda right.
You: “Fine. Who are you, and why can’t I see you?”
The Voice: “I’m the Writer’s Enigma. I have no physical form for you to behold. I simply, am.”
You: “Oh that makes a lot of sense.”
Sarcasm.
The Voice: “My role is to guide any Player who enters here to the start of The Quest. The Writer created me to govern the basic rules of this world, known only as The Game.”
Your head is spinning. None of this sounds real.
The voice is waiting, but you’re still panicking. Confused.
Enigma: “You may call me Enigma, for short.”
You glance behind you, noticing a short three-legged stool and sit down hard, head in your hands.
Enigma waits.
And waits.
But you’re still freaking out.
Enigma: “Me. E N I G M A.”
The voice enunciates slowly.
Enigma: “You. P L A Y E R.”
Being treated like an idiot pisses you off enough to snap you out of your daze.
You: “Yes. THANK YOU. Got it. Me, Player. You, Asshole.”
Suddenly thunder claps and the ground shakes.
Enigma: “CHOOSE DAMMIT. AS THE WRITER’S ENIGMA I SHALL ENSURE THAT YOU RESPECT THE GAME.”
Lightning splits the distant vault of the sky briefly and you feel the electric current send a hot shiver over the back of your neck, nausea pooling in the pit of your stomach.
You decide it’s best not to piss off the disembodied and seemingly all-powerful voice governing this fucked up corner of the world you’re trapped in.
You: “Okay, sorry…”
Your words are little more than a half-hearted whisper.
Looking at the three objects in front of you, you extend out a hand – hesitating.
The sword is broken, and you don’t know how to use a sword anyway. The duct tape is useful but… a weapon?
You reflect on your class – the Bard – and decide. There’s really only one option that seems to make sense.
Your hand steadies, and grasps the pen.
You: “Pen is mightier than the sword, yeah?”
Your voice doesn’t sound convincing.
Enigma: “Good.”
Enigma sounds satisfied. Smug, but satisfied.
Enigma: “You have now met the conditions to complete the ‘select screen.’”
You: “‘Select screen…?’”
Before you can ask further, an overwhelmingly bright light flashes in your eyes. You instinctively raise your arms to shield yourself, but it’s too late. You’re temporarily blinded.
Blinking rapidly, you wait for your vision to return. When it does, you see a square of bright (but not totally blinding) light off to your right. It looks like a doorway out of the void.
Enigma: “Before exiting this stage, please review your inventory.”
You: “My… inventory?”
Unconsciously, you pat yourself down – only to realize that at some point during the bright flash, a large leather satchel was slung across your body and is now hanging by your hip.
You peer inside the bag to see the pen you’d selected earlier alongside 3 empty vials and a handful of small bronze coins.
Enigma clears their throat.
Enigma: “Your inventory contains your starting weapon, 3 empty potion vials which you may fill however you see fit, and 5 bronze chits. You start with 2 level 1 spell slots and the default cantrip for Shadow Write, which allows you to perfectly imitate anyone’s handwriting. Additionally, you may equip one headpiece and up to 3 accessories should you find any you deem more useful than harmful. Anything else that does not fit in your inventory, you will need to use, dispose of, or create an account at a local Branch of Accountants and Notary Knaves–”
You: “Branch of Accountants and Notary Knaves?”
You interrupt Enigma’s clearly rehearsed speech.
Enigma: “Yes, that’s correct.”
You: “So… a BANK?”
Enigma: “Correct. Is that all?”
Enigma is annoyed. It seems clear that they don’t like having to give this long, tedious speech.
And they definitely don’t like having it interrupted.
You: “That’s all. Sounds great… very… financially sound.”
Enigma doesn’t indicate whether they agree or disagree with your skepticism. They simply resume their speech.
Enigma: “The Writer assumes no responsibility for the loss or destruction of your funds and/or property upon starting The Quest. The Quest will begin once The Player has received their starting weapon, sub-class, and their 2 allotted 20-sided dice.”
You: “What di–”
Two small black dice appear with a pop in your hand before you can finish asking.
Enigma: “Henceforth, The Player will be required to periodically roll their dice in order to pass skill checks when attempting to execute various actions. The outcome will be determined by the difficulty of the skill check on a 1-20 scale vs. the roll of the dice plus or minus The Player’s stat modifiers.”
You attempt to interrupt Enigma with a question but the words won’t come out.
Instead, silent letters appear in your mind:
ROLL ONE DIE TO SEE IF YOU CAN INTERRUPT ENIGMA’S SPEECH. 18 CHARM DC.
Unable to do anything else, you roll.
6. SKILL CHECK FAILED.
YOU BITE YOUR TONGUE INSTEAD. -1 HP.
Red letters showing the -1 HP flash before your eyes. Pain sears in your mouth and you taste a trickle of blood. It fucking hurts.
All the while, Enigma hasn’t stopped talking. Their speech rattles on, dropping proper nouns and names you’ve never heard before but have no safe way of inquiring about.
Enigma: “–dwarf ambassador’s corpse was found just after dawn with no obvious wounds or signs of a struggle. Whether the cause of death was natural or nefarious has yet to be determined, but given the political climate amidst the Azguardian negotiations currently being held in the Tors of Nipponshima, a full investigation is warranted. As the Bard of record in the company of the Constable leading said investigations, it is your job to assist in the recordings of the findings… and whether you relay said findings to the wider press is up to your own discretion. In order to complete The Quest you must aid the Constable in unraveling the circumstances that led to the ambassador’s untimely demise.”
Enigma finally pauses.
You wait, eyeing the dice in your palm, afraid to speak.
But after a moment, it seems clear they’re waiting for you to act.
You inhale, cautious.
You: “So… what now?”
Enigma: “Now, you may exit the ‘select screen’ by passing through that doorway of light. On the other side, The Quest formally begins.”
You: “And finishing The Quest is my only way out of here?”
Enigma: “Correct.”
Shakily, you stand and approach the doorway.
On the other side, you see a small rowboat waiting for you to step into it. It rocks gently on a lake. In the distance, you see a hilly, wooded island whose most prominent feature is an ominous stone tower.
You: “How will I know where to go or what this Constable looks like? Do I get a map?”
Enigma scoffs.
Enigma: “A map? Do I look like I’m going to give you a map?”
You: “You… don’t look like anything.”
This time you get a genuine chuckle from Enigma.
Enigma: “Fair point. But the answer’s no: No map. Good luck with that.”
Clearly, you’re doomed.
Resigned, you suck in a deep breath to brace yourself – and step through the door.
Your foot rocks the small boat unnervingly, but you take a moment to steady yourself and regain your balance.
But even once you’re through the door and fully seated in the tiny craft between its two attached oars, something still makes your stomach flip.
There’s definitely something wrong with the boat.
You: “Enigma, something’s not right–”
Enigma cuts you off.
Enigma: “Your first task for The Quest is to reach the shore of Nipponshima. Unfortunately, there’s a leak in your boat and without a way to patch it, it will sink before you make it to the beach.”
You: “Wait – WHAT?”
Enigma: “Duct tape doesn’t seem so silly now, does it?”
Enigma’s voice echoes gleefully as the doorway of light suddenly vanishes, leaving you stranded in the leaking rowboat on a lake in the middle of nowhere.
You: “Oh FUCK M–”
A black curtain slams down over your vision and you lunge forward, jolted out of the scene.
Drool pools in the corner of your mouth and slips down your chin. Your breath hitches and your vision clears.
The sudden start makes you realize – you’re at your desk.
A Zoom call drones on in the background as a two-hour webinar about quarterly finances doles out its dour facts about YoY growth and projected revenue goals for Q3.
You dozed off during the call. Everything that just happened was all a dream. Nothing more than a fantasy.
You: “Damn.”
You wipe your mouth, still a bit stunned – but also glad that for this meeting you were muted and off-camera.
You: “Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed up so late playing Esoteric Ebb on my Steam Deck last night…”
If you’ve read this far, I’ve got 2 things to say to you:
One, thank you. You must be a wonderfully weird soul.
And two, you’re probably the kind of person who should check out Esoteric Ebb. A PC indie gem for 2026, developed primarily by Christoffer Bodegård with publishing help from Raw Fury, Esoteric Ebb takes the gameplay framework of Disco Elysium and smashes it together with the narrative flavor of homebrew D&D.
It’s a cool, irreverent, legitimately funny CRPG that I’m glad I stepped out of my comfort zone to try. Did I always know what I was doing? No, these “Disco-likes” often seem to lean on the player to bring their own knowledge of D&D systems to bear with minimal tutorials or maps or you know, useful things of that nature.
But did I end up having a ton of fun doing… whatever it was that I was supposed to be doing? Absolutely, 1000% yes. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been inspired to write this… review(?).
While not a formal examination of the game’s core elements, the story I’ve told here is purposeful. The pain points You faces depict my critiques of what it was like to play this game, but even more importantly, the shape of this review(?) speaks to how the game, its tone, and its sheer fun factor moved and inspired me. Hopefully, reading whatever this is serves as a litmus test that shows if the game’s vibe is a good fit for you.
I took a chance, said “yes” to the unknown, waded through a few hours of uncertainty, and found a fantastic adventure on the other side. Esoteric Ebb will easily be one of the first games I name when someone asks, “What’s a game you loved that isn’t from a genre you usually play?” or “What’s a game that surprised you?” or “What’s a game that made you laugh out loud?”
Not every game you take a risk on turns out to be a smash hit for you. But sometimes, it’s worth finding out – even if your ass gets chapped by half the skill checks along the way.
Accessibility Corner
Because I can’t help myself, some quick accessibility facts about the game: while it doesn’t always hold your hand on what to do or where to go, the game does offer some interesting accessibility options. It has a plethora of fonts and text sizes as well as the ability to scale the UI up or down (gold stars here!). It also has colorblind options and a full array of volume sliders (no voice acting though, FYI). Additionally, you can zoom the camera in or out freely while exploring.
There isn’t a full text log, but you can scroll back up to re-read at least your current conversation. Also, you can re-speak to NPCs to repeat dialogue and you can speak to your primary companion Snell for some small hints or reminders. The game doesn’t have an in-depth functional map but your journal does have key terms, including place names, and a high-level visual overview of areas you’ve visited.
Quest notes update as you progress and you can view item descriptions in your inventory. You can also save any time outside of a conversation with multiple auto save and manual save slots. And one final great touch I love: when continuing your journey from the title screen, the game will show a quick recap of your last “session.”
