Some game demos, you write up after the expo because they need a bit of reflection; some game demos, you write up immediately because they are easy to digest, even through a droning fugue of jetlag; and some game demos, you write up immediately because they synchronise perfectly with your swivel-eyed, hyper-caffeinated delirium.
Located at the epicentre of the Summer Games Fest 2025 campus I found Crimson Desert, the new action-RPG from the creators of Black Desert Online. When he saw it last September, James aired his fear that “Crimson Desert’s fantastical open world exploration is going to be interrupted by regular bouts of twangy, unwieldy, unsatisfying combat.” I wish I could offer such a coherent analysis. I spent most of my 60 minute hands-on trying to remember what I was playing, because Crimson Desert isn’t just an action game – it wants to be all of them.
It’s a Witchery sword ‘em up, with light and heavy attacks, but it is also Spider-Man, with a swingy astral hookshot – and while you’re at it, let’s stir in some wrestling moves, because they go so nicely with the Breath of the Wildy climbing mechanics, and also, here’s an artillery spotting section, and also you can use telekinesis, which is worth doing because it triggers a window of slow-mo in which to apply your whole face and eyeballs to the “basic controls” print-out and beg the PR man to remind you which is the jump button.
Crimson Desert is the thrilling tale of Kliff Macduff of the Greymanes, a beardy Scottish paladin whose back bristles with weapons and amulets. He looks dead impressive by day. When fighting after dark, I found him to be interchangeable from many of the human enemies I was fighting. This was partly a question of fatigue, and partly because Crimson Desert throws those enemies at you like fistfuls of burning popcorn. It makes Dynasty Warriors seem sparse, at times. Dynasty Warriors tends to have fewer exploding barrels, too.
You mention that you can’t quite see Kliff Macduff in the chaos to the kindly PR man. The kindly PR man’s makeshift solution is to dress Kliff Macduff in a radically orange Tudor doublet that makes him look like Blackadder villain of the week. This seems a grave injustice to Kliff Macduff, who otherwise cultivates a note of Geralty understatement, but Kliff Macduff will probably be overall happier now that he is not getting murdered by some random pikeman because you, the so-called video games journalist, think you are actually playing as the random pikeman, to the point of commenting shyly to the kindly PR man that you are really getting the hang of the polearms.
Admittedly, Crimson Desert is probably much easier to scan when you’re not playing on a packed show floor, in the brain-mottling glare of 20 competing demos. Also admittedly, the intricacies probably go down easier when you actually start from the beginning, rather than mediasing directly into the res of a pitched battle that wants you to smash up several outposts single-handed, using the aforesaid artillery spotter mechanics, then defeat a boss.
I can’t quite remember who was fighting whom in that demo battle, but there was an impressive abundance of worldbuilding slopping around: lots of ambient chatter from friendly soldiers and civilians propped against fortifications or standing outside tents or slumped wounded by the side of the trail. I get the sense I will have fun investigating Crimson Desert’s fantasy realm, once I’ve stopped accidentally Force-jumping into ditches or summoning my horse whenever I try to heal.
In dire straits such as these, button-mashing can be your staunchest ally. I spent maybe two-thirds of the demo massaging the controller like the throat of my most beloved enemy, and marvelling as Kliff Macduff bounced and rolled and kicked and threw and called his horse and performed various elemental spells and rolled into a campfire and rolled out of the campfire and called his horse and jumped and double-jumped and summoned artillery bombardments and called his horse and Force Palmed and Flurry Slashed and somehow unequipped all his healing items and did a Batman glide and switched to his hammer and spun like a top and got stuck in a fence.
It was all going swimmingly until I blundered into the bossfight (actually, the PR jumped me to a prepared save because our time was almost up, and I couldn’t stop giggling). To defeat the boss – a bellowing lordly oaf with horned shoulderpads suggestive of a Dali painting of an 80s power suit – I had to first stagger him by means of my Force abilities, which was quite arduous enough. Then I had to pick up toppled stone pillars and clobber him with them.
This second feat serves as a useful case study for the game’s control scheme, which appears to have been designed by angry bees. Firstly, I had to click both analog sticks to engage Focus mode. Then I had to aim at a wafer-thin section of the pillar and lock on by pressing two face buttons. Then I had to hammer another face button to levitate the pillar. Lastly, I had to press another button to actually wield it in my arms. All this before the boss regained his poise and ripped my gizzards out.
I did eventually crack it, but mostly thanks to the demo offering me unlimited revives. If it weren’t for that, I suspect I’d never have made it past that first pikeman. It felt a bit like defusing a bomb, except that bombs stay put while they’re being defused, and also like playing a Microprose game, if Microprose were in the business of parry mechanics.
“Did you have fun?” the PR man asked, perhaps a little alarmed by all the furious whirring noises I had been emitting throughout. Yes, I was surprised to realise. Yes, I did have fun. I wouldn’t call Crimson Desert elegant, but it certainly isn’t short on tricks for an RPG, and I suspect for many of you sickos, the busyness will be a selling point. Read more on Steam.