Pendragon Rising

I came to Pendragon Rising expecting the familiar Arthurian furniture -- Excalibur, Camelot, knights in gleaming plate -- and got something far more interesting instead. Author Ian Thomas plants you in a fractured, post-Roman Britain where barbarian clans squabble over cold hillsides, old gods still hold sway over frightened people, and the title of Pendragon is something you bleed for rather than inherit gracefully. That dissonance between expectation and reality is, honestly, part of the point. This is a 112,000-word choice-based interactive novel -- pure text, no graphics, no sound -- running on Choice of Games' ChoiceScript engine. You play as Arthur or Arta (a full gender-swap that extends to most of the supporting cast), returning to Britain after seven years studying in Rome, only to find your aging parent Uther gravely wounded and succession up for grabs. From there the game tracks four core stats -- Bravado, Compassion, Cunning, and Ruthlessness -- that shift as you make decisions, opening and closing dialogue options as your reputation solidifies. The stat system has real teeth: lean heavily on warrior instincts and then try to broker a diplomatic alliance, and the numbers will remind you that credibility is earned, not declared. Community players note this stat fluidity can feel erratic at times, with values swinging sharply after a single scene, which occasionally breaks the illusion that you are the one steering. What the game does beautifully is treat honesty as a liability. Being a virtuous, chivalric Arthur is often the fastest route to an early death. Alliances require negotiation that isn't always clean. The religious layer -- choosing to honor the old Celtic gods or embrace the incoming Roman faith -- adds genuine weight to a handful of key decisions, and the cast of rival lords, childhood companions, and shadowy antagonists is written with enough individual voice that you actually feel the cost when someone turns against you. There are multiple endings, and the path to the best ones is narrow enough that most first playthroughs end badly, which the game wears without apology. The criticisms are fair and worth naming. The branching is tighter than typical Choice of Games releases -- false choices, where two options converge on the same paragraph, appear often enough to erode immersion. Romance options are thin. And the whole story runs short; three playthroughs can fit inside a single afternoon. Players hoping for a sprawling, deeply customisable RPG will feel the walls. Those who prefer a well-crafted, literary-minded experience that happens to be interactive will find the compact length works in its favour -- Thomas knows exactly when this story needs to end, and he ends it. Kai, Scout Team