Dread Delusion (PC) Review

I had far more fun than I expected playing Dread Delusion, despite its janky nature. Part of that was down to how happy I am that retro-aesthetics are finally shifting from 2D pixel-art to crude but striking 3D environments emulating many late-’90s to early-’00s games. I had access to a half-decent PC and PlayStation 1 at the time and exploring those early 3D worlds felt like a revelation. The other reason is that Dread Delusion’s simple mechanics, brisk pacing, and short runtime – at least by modern RPG standards – meant I was constantly making progress whenever I found time to play, and I never grew tired of exploring it’s weird and wonderful setting.

To be clear up front, the quest complexity, gameplay mechanics, and world structure also distinctly feel “retro” and you could uncharitably call them dated – so don’t go into Dread Delusion expecting cinematic storytelling or slick mechanics in a retro-themed audiovisual wrapper. Instead, it feels like a refined amalgamation of many iconic 3D first-person RPGs – think Thief, Deus Ex, or The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind. It offers a little bit of everything, and each element feels true to the era it emulates – just crafted with two decades of experience and hindsight, and playable on modern hardware.

If you have no nostalgic hook, that might not sound great on paper, but I found Dread Delusion’s reined-in scope still makes it stand out, especially in contrast to many hyper-polished but homogenised and bloated modern RPGs. Tackling everything on offer could still take you 30 or so hours, but very little of that felt like deliberate time-wasting. Instead, the simple but satisfying gameplay flow, coupled with the potential for your choices to determine the fate of many regions in the Oneiric Isles, all encourage you to explore every inch of the world to get the most out of the experience.

Your unseen protagonist – a prisoner, of course – is released into the service of the Apostatic Union: an increasingly autocratic bureaucracy that waged war against a pantheon of gods and their followers 40 years prior. Your first task is to assault the bastion of the mercenary captain, Vela Callose, but events go awry and you’re soon off scouring every corner of the floating Isles to assemble a crew of her former mercenaries, discover the nature of a world-changing artifact she seeks on the cursed surface below, and deal with a malevolent god that binds you to a contract after saving you from death. I’d argue the writing is perhaps the most modern element, a hybrid of traditional fantasy with magic- and steam-punk elements, while the story is a mix dark and cynical humour with tragedy, hopefulness, and real-world analogies.

The Oneiric Isles make for a wonderful setting and they’re weird, creepy, and wondrous in equal measure – fragmented landmasses orbiting neuron stars, strung together by cosmic synapses. Hallowshire offers verdant but plagued farmland, forests, and swamp, with an Apostatic Union outpost in the central hub of Hallow Town trying to root out Wikkan remnants – think former worshippers – intent on restoring their fallen masters and trading prosperity for blood sacrifice. The Clockwork Kingdom is a frigid mechanical wasteland, blighted by a spreading organic corruption, and ruled from Ferropolis by an increasingly mad mechanical King that was given the power to alter reality. The Endless Realm is host to a rotting populace cursed to never die, living in distinctly Gothic mausoleums, and all desperate to reclaim their mortality. Naturally, each region hides one of Vela’s former crew; there are always two factions vying for power; there are a handful of sidequests that often feature unexpected outcomes or rewards; and you’ll eventually earn your own airship to sail to the shadowy Underlands below.

As a compact indie effort, Dread Delusion’s formulaic structure and segmented world work in its favour, and it cater to multiple playstyles. You could methodically complete most regional quests before moving on, or you could just follow the main quest and organically complete secondary quests as you go. The gameplay loop is also “retro” in the best possible way, with simple combat and stealth, easy-to-understand progression mechanics, and a faction system that encourage you to avoid combat and keep everyone on friendly or neutral terms – especially when “Glimmers of Delusion”, which you collect to boost your core attributes, are only rewarded through quest completion and exploration. The mechanics feel retro in the sense you could play as a jack-of-all trades for a balanced experience, but you’re free to buff your skills with equipment, potions, and spells to become overpowered to a game-breaking degree.

Investing in “Might” allows you to become a walking tank, soaking up damage, dropping foes with a few blows, and hacking straight through damaged doors; “Guile” allows you to pick locks, disarm traps, and sprint or leap over hazards and foes with little regard for physics; “Wisdom” allows you to manipulate secret switches and cast powerful spells using an expanded mana pool; while “Persona” allows you to charm characters for more information, alternate paths, or better deals when bartering. A handful of melee and ranged weapons, armour, accessories, and spells can be bought or found in secret stashes, while the materials you scavenge can enhance your gear or brew useful potions. There’s almost an immersive sim vibe in how Dread Delusion’s non-combat skills allow you to exploit the intended level design and basic AI – but as literally every quest and secret offers alternate routes, it can make builds feel less significant over time.

What ultimately impressed me most about Dread Delusion is how immersive it feels. Despite the retro aesthetics – which give you great options like wobbly 3D, wobbly textures, and an even chunkier resolution – exploration feels incredibly satisfying in contrast to many modern RPGs that devolve into tedious slogs between map icons after a few hours. Despite the angular environments, basic character models, blurry textures filtering, and wonky animations, the writing is solid, the cast feels unexpectedly complex, there are fascinating lore documents to read, some light environmental storytelling, and tons of secrets to find (that aren’t just trivial collectibles). Each of the four regions offer striking visuals, diverse biomes, and a thick atmosphere – mostly down to time-of-day and the music – and the mood often shifts between serene and ominous.

Wrapping up, Dread Delusion often had me thinking back to a time when I could fully immerse myself in primitive 3D environments and let my imagination run wild to fill in the gaps. Twenty years on – especially after being conditioned to massive, intricate, and cinematic worlds – it’s not that easy, but Dread Delusion still came close to recapturing that initial sense of wonder. If you are in the mood for a compact, charming, retro-styled RPG that respects your time, it’s a solid choice that could maybe do with a few patches to smooth over some lingering rough edges. If you lack the nostalgic hook, it’s still a worthwhile facsimile of several iconic titles if you’re interested in the history of video games. You’ll need to buy into the concept to fully enjoy it if your only frame of reference is modern RPGs.

Dread Delusion was reviewed on PC using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher.