Somehow made by two people, Banquet for Fools is a dark fantasy RPG hybrid dancing to its own drum. I'm uncertain what it evokes. Nox? Dungeon Siege? Morrowind? "We don't follow a canon, manifesting like it's the first game ever made" - is how I imagine the thought process behind its defiant design. You complete a quest, suddenly, a switch to a glamorous shot of your party posing under a fancy inscription: Aura increased. This one farms hard. A JoJo-style cinematic plays when you perform a rally attack, sending a bomb with a roundhouse kick. Ask for a coffee - and watch a painstaking animation of a woman brewing it for you, then find yourself playing a reverse-Frogger mini-game or rocking out with a music band. It all feels harmonious, bound by solid mechanics and one dummy thick atmosphere. Drenched in sexy thick lighting and electronic music upheld by the lyre, the world is spirited. Sparkling springs flow, critters skitter in the swaying grass near an ancient tomb chock-full of the howling dead. Down to the smallest detail like the cursor or fonts, Banquet has class. Kindly Oldschool Hannah and Joseph went above and beyond, endowing their child of clay with a beating heart, portraying a grimy, deceptively expansive world, lived-in yet so alien in its customs and shapes, confusing to an unacclimated onlooker. Being a dark fairy tale at its core, the setting consorts cuteness and grisliness. You shall be struck by its stone cold cruelty, then thaw in melodious whimsy the next minute. A classic interplay I associate with the hardcore PG13 of the 80s. Hey kid, look at the fluttering fairies! Wait, why is the meadow covered in gnawed bones? That said, Banquet is only hard in a sense that it forces you to use all of the tools it provides or lose the plot. You get to make deductions, think. It's something that trips a sense of discovery in those curious of us. I was enjoying the game before I started, taking my time creating a party while trying to make sense of everything. The mechanics are well-explained, just peculiar. What really sets people on edge is the fact Banquet possesses sensibilities a modern mind perceives as hostile. Say, you must mark places on your map yourself, but the self-reliance trend doesn't end there! You should use handy built-in notes to write the important stuff down, the journal won't be kept for you. It's kindly oldschool. Although inventive, often obtuse, quests and puzzles are dispensed gradually. It's a feasible task to track them manually. The record-keeping process is a great teacher, through it I've learned names, geography, social hierarchy - and saw the world's charm, gaining sympathy for its struggling inhabitants. Between wars and otherworldly horrors, the common folk lead a hard life on the island of Invimona. I was eager to aid them and see my mission through. About that. You control a party of Vollings, not elves, sent by the leader of your House to investigate the disappearance of a whole town's population. That's it. You didn't suppose I'd tell you where's the banquet and who are the fools? Be ready for a wild cross-country Indiana featuring cool puzzles left by a lost civilization, abundant combat, and branching conversations. Mildly so, the role-play is limited, for your dutiful Guards aren't yappers, but there are paths to take and dilemmas to ponder. Ending cards included. Thick and Thin Sometimes Banquet throws ultra-powerful foes at you off-curve. I enjoy it when a game shows teeth, it's satisfying to come back later and kick them out. And it's an organic way to direct your otherwise free roaming around the world map segregated into self-contained chunks of lush biomes. The labyrinths of rugged terrain hide many secrets, underground passages rife with imaginative monsters and beasts to fight. The RTWP combat works. The devs wanted Diablo-sized hordes to smash with an oomph, so a turn-based system would grind things to a halt. You can swap characters at will and move freely while their action bars fill up, then pause to issue one order at a time. I see the plan here, however, the inability to queue orders made combat chaotic other than tactical. It's hard to focus one guy and the squad positioning tool is limited. Hence, forget efficient micro, the party can fend for itself, chaining co-op techniques automatically. Treat it as an autobattler where you can pitch in when needed. You get to set the thresholds: when to use consumables or cast spells, how often to perform special moves, etc. Save minmaxing for boss fights. If you play the progression right, it would carry the party through thick and thin. Despite some unorthodox names, the system is intuitive, I'll touch it briefly. Combat and utility skills benefit from corresponding stats, like bartering scales off Sensory, magic off Pagan and Aura, melee off Strength... it's self-explanatory. While the technique tree adds serious weight to your pain train, providing the party with spectacular auto-combos and wrestling moves like pinning or body-slamming, level-ups are incremental. Upon levelling, you get points to distribute between skills and stats. Skills rise faster if they were actively used. Regardless, it will take forever before you feel the power creep and see double digits on regular attacks. If ever. Paid skill training exists, albeit, at unreasonable cost. Such is the price of balance, I take it. I was amazed by a sturdy difficulty curve in a genre famous for broken lategame experiences. The economy also stood strong, featuring solid money sinks in the form of expensive gear and diegetic instant travel. It's a good incentive to stay mindful, therefore invested. For another quirk, you're rewarded for choosing not to kill enemies, it's an on/off switch. Not just out of the kindness of your heart. There's only one downside: your mages restore mana on kills. Other than that, it's beneficial. Stunned foes get up after 24 hours, so you can theoretically grind exp (why?), and some people have bounties on their heads if brought in alive. To boot, it prevents the necromancers from turning corpses into waves of ghosts. Sounds annoying? Just use incense globes to wave those away. Likewise, Banquet has a counter-measure for everything. Have a hard time storming a fort? Find a backdoor, sneak in at night, some of them are deep sleepers. Still hard? Signal your allies for help before attacking! It extrapolates. Take hints, use your brain - and you'll find the game forgiving. For one, resource and health management isn't an issue. Unless everyone gets downed, your guys get up after combat instead of dying. Despite that society operates on a schedule, the lack of time constraints lets you sleep your ass off. You'll be fine as long as you have some mead, bedrolls, or don't mind hauling ass over the hills and far away for a free rest. Grip Banquet isn't unapproachable or weird just for the sake of it. On the contrary, it's welcoming, polished, thought-out. It's nostalgic and novel in equal measure, experimental for the purposes of immersion. I hope I could decipher some of its codes to intrigue you without vivisecting it. Some things are better left to be discovered in person. The game takes time to set in, give it that. When you get the hang of it, it gets a grip on you, and the deeper you dive, the stronger the feeling of longing. Speaking of longing, I have no idea what people do here for 100+ hours. I got lost for 5-10, wandering aimlessly, and I explored almost everything. Only realised I could ask companions for a hint by saying "help" or "quest" ~40 hours in. Sure, I could've done a few more quests, could've solved a couple more puzzles, but that's +10 hours max. People probably leave their games on while they sleep, it's not a juggernaut. I know some of you love a juggernaut, but don't be intimidated if you don't. It's a tight 50+ hour adventure. My curator Big Bad Mutuh: https://store.steampowered.com/curator/35305390/