After 132 hours of Rogue Trader, I wasn’t sure I had another one in me so soon. Another dense, grimdark RPG set in the miserable far-flung future. But I love that miserable far-flung future, so flinging caution to the wind I took up the mantle of Acolyte of the Inquisition in Warhammer 40k: Dark Heresy.
The good news is that Dark Heresy is not just more Rogue Trader—not that this would be a bad thing. Sure, it’s the same art style, same UI, same engine. There are a long list of similarities. But fundamentally this is a very different style of RPG, one that serves a different fantasy and boasts a brand new focus.
Clock in
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Where Rogue Trader effectively made you a monarch, responsible for entire worlds, answerable to basically no one in your frontier fiefdom, in Dark Heresy you’re pretty much a cop. Granted, you’re a cop with a huge amount of power, influence and leeway, but you’ve got bosses and orders and a job to do. Sometimes the job is murder. But most of the time it’s conducting investigations and uncovering conspiracies.
This fact sets the tone for the rest of the game.
Dark Heresy’s major quests are presented as cases, with each given its own investigation board where clues and leads will appear, waiting to be locked in or dismissed. When you’ve figured them out, right or wrong, you’ll then fill out a report for your superiors. In this way, Dark Heresy goes all-in on the detective conceit—far further than, say, Disco Elysium.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
RPG quest design hasn’t really changed much since I first started playing them in the early ’90s; even the most impressive or ambitious RPGs tend to present quests similarly. The best ones tend to give you more wiggle room, allowing you to complete quests in a variety of ways, but the actual structure of the quests rarely changes.
By going down a more investigative route with its quests, Dark Heresy immediately stands apart. Rather than simply talking to folk and getting in some scraps until you complete a quest, following the same ol’ steps, you instead need to uncover information that will allow you to paint a complete picture of the mystery—and you’re absolutely able to get it completely wrong.
For instance, one of my big cases saw me investigating mass disappearances. All over the sector, folk were vanishing without a trace, possibly connected to an epidemic of strange dreams. Even before I had a clue what was going on, though, I could just pin it on someone. A bunch of suspicious divers who had been heard chanting. A group of aliens living outside the hive city. Organised crime.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
In this way, I’m reminded of Frogwares’ Sherlock Holmes games, in particular Crimes and Punishments. Thorough investigators will be given all the information they need, but what you do with that information, how you arrange it and what you believe, is just as important.
The constant investigative bent also makes what you actually do from quest to quest a lot more diverse. Scanning for clues, reconstructing crime scenes, following tracks, hunting down signals, researching topics—there’s a lot more going on beyond chatting and fighting.
Even conversations are improved by this new focus. Normally I find Owlcat RPGs too wordy. I like some dense text, but Owlcat has a habit of making NPCs giant exposition dumps, and I don’t have the patience for that. This time around, though, these info dumps are crucial. You never know when clues are going to bubble up from a seemingly incidental chat. Your long list of questions and their detailed responses now feel justified.
Cop quirks
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Owlcat promises a more condensed game compared to the gargantuan, sprawling Rogue Trader, but one with more roleplaying flexibility, and this is very much on display in the alpha build’s myriad dialogue options.
I particularly enjoy the ones that let me be the absolute worst detective. Inquisition agents are typically pretty sneaky, but not me. When I arrived in the hive city’s slums, I immediately pulled a ‘do you know who I am?’ by whipping out my sigil of office and throwing my weight around. I wanted a Prince Ali-level parade.
By flashing my badge and demanding respect, I managed to lose the respect of a fellow Inquisition agent. When she approached me for a clandestine meeting, I asked how she knew where to find me, to which she disappointedly responded that I hadn’t exactly made it hard when I announced my presence to everyone only a few minutes earlier.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Before long, I’m being asked to double-cross a colleague, I must interrogate a broken man, and I have a shady meeting with an alien—one of the enigmatic aeldari, Warhammer 40k’s haughty space elves. Another opportunity to embarrass myself. I begged her assistance in helping solve my case, to which one of my companions responded with an “Are you kidding me?”—fraternising with the enemies of humanity is not encouraged.
In a short space of time I encountered a lot of small moments that helped to define the kind of Inquisitor I wanted to be, but there are more substantial decisions that help shape the entire misadventure.
The alpha build let me jump into two different world states, created by decisions I would have made in the previous section of the game. The order in which you visit areas, and the calls you make during your investigation, have significant ramifications, opening and closing doors for you.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
In my second playthrough, I selected a world state where I’d failed in my mission in the previous area, and had then taken a detour before going to this part of the hive. My failure and delay meant that this place I’d become quite familiar with in my first playthrough now looked dramatically different, with the lower levels completely flooded and everyone flocking to a radical cult. I felt the changes immediately, and they were meaningful—not just impacting my quests, but even simple exploration.
Regardless of world state, I spent a lot more time investigating than fighting, but when the lasguns came out, things got bloody. Rogue Trader vets will already be au fait with the turn-based combat system, which is propped up by a dense list of skills and traits—too many, perhaps, though Dark Heresy does seem to show a bit more restraint in this regard, and you won’t need to schedule a whole afternoon to go through everyone’s level up screen.
Excessive force
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Otherwise, it’s all pretty familiar; most characters have a mix of single-target and AoE attacks, depending on their class and weapons, and even this early in the game hardly a turn goes by without each member of my party being able to do something, even if there’s nobody nearby to smack with a giant mace.
The most notable difference between Rogue Trader and Dark Heresy is the introduction of precision aiming, with various abilities letting you target specific body parts, each with their own chance-to-hit percentage. I’m a sucker for this mechanic, as it offers both flexibility and an exciting element of risk. Going straight for the headshot might take your enemy out instantly, but when you’ve only got a 10% chance to make the shot? Is it worth possibly achieving nothing that turn?
Dark Heresy also includes an armour system, giving everyone a second healthbar. It doesn’t really feel like a second healthbar, though. Enemies seemed to go down just as quickly, so I’m not seeing the benefit yet. At the moment, it feels like change for change’s sake.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Still, I enjoyed occasionally taking a break from rummaging around for clues to smash some faces. My first fight, for instance, saw me outnumbered by criminals, who had taken defensive positions and had hostages behind them. Every two turns, a hostage would be executed. There was also a gate, which one of the hostage-takers can close a couple of turns into the fight—unless you take them out with a sniper.
The setup wasn’t especially novel, but it was undeniably an engaging first battle with a lot going on, and a lot of avenues for approach. And it was completely avoidable—I could have negotiated, but after not killing anyone for a couple of hours I felt the bloodlust. Besides, when you’ve got an angry ogryn on your team, it would be rude not to let him blow off some steam.
I’m still just getting to know my companions, but so far so good. Since the alpha build begins in medias res, you begin with three companions already in tow, so there are no introductions for them, unlike later additions such as your aforementioned ogryn and aeldari pals. The build isn’t substantial enough for them to grow from strangers to trusted colleagues, but they certainly make themselves invaluable.
(Image credit: Owlcat)
Companion interjections are common, and each has a speciality that goes beyond their role in combat. CSI-style skills, knowledge of the warp, Astra Militarum training, preternatural alien tracking skills—they’re a handy bunch. They even lend a hand when you’re studying your investigation board. They’ll have thoughts on some of your clues, for instance, which can in turn unlock new clues, helping you work towards a solution.
Again, everything ties into the detective theme. It’s not just a bit of flavour; it’s the heart of the game.
Owlcat RPGs always have a compelling hook, whether it’s commanding an army as a dragon, a god of mischief or a lich in Wrath of the Righteous, or running multiple planets and a city-sized spaceship in Rogue Trader, but Dark Heresy might have landed on my favourite. Being a tyrannical space cop is comparatively grounded, but the way this elevates the quest design and recontextualises dialogue leaves Dark Heresy feeling like something properly special.
