It was a triumphant moment when I finally bought a sword in Kingdom Come: Deliverance. Here I was, Henry the blacksmith’s son, one of the few survivors of the attack that burned my home village of Skalitz to the ground, a man with little money and even fewer prospects, assistant to a C-tier lord in the Holy Roman Empire—and I could finally afford my first sword. Not even a proper longsword, mind you, but something called a “hunting sword.” Still, I strapped it to my side with all the pride befitting a peasant who ever-so-slightly increased his social status in class-centric Medieval Europe.
I bring it up because it’s indicative how different Kingdom Come: Deliverance feels from other RPGs. There, you’re usually the chosen one, destined to save the world. Here, I’m over 20 hours in and I’m basically a glorified intern-in-armor. I spent a whole day carrying some spoiled noble’s equipment out to the woods so we could hunt rabbits. Since then, my biggest responsibility is solving the murder of some no-name peasants and their horses in a backwater village with only four or five homes.
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