In a similar way to how Obsidian's The Outer Worlds played very closely to a space-faring Fallout, Avowed sticks closely to the sensibilities of The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Its fantasy world isn't as expansive and seamlessly stitched together, but you'd be forgiven for confusing the two at a glance, especially when you're engaged in its first-person combat. Avowed lifts some of the best aspects of the seminal RPG and improves them, especially when it comes to its refined combat. These changes extend to a move away from traditional leveling in favor of a gear-focused approach, as well as the option to experiment with wild weapon combinations. But not all of Avowed's experiments are successes, leading to an uneven role-playing adventure that surprises as much as it frustrates.

Washing up on the shores of the Living Lands, you play as one the Godlike: a select few kissed by the grace of a god at birth and left with some distinct (and sometimes frightening) facial features to show for it. On a mission from a distant monarch whose influence within the Living Lands has many of its inhabitants up in arms, your job is to track down the source of a plague that's turning the land's people into mindless, bloodthirsty creatures, before it manages to make it back home. Although it is set in the same universe as Pillars of Eternity, Avowed does a good job of immediately siloing you into an area that requires little knowledge of what is happening across the ocean, but does reference some historical events from time to time. A glossary of important names and places is available as they're brought up in conversation, providing a handy guide that contextualizes some attitudes characters have to certain factions and events around you.

Avowed makes a strong initial impression, quickly establishing your Godlike status but with the odd quirk of being the first not to know which god chose you. This isn't the main purpose of your mission, but that changes after a surprising event in the early hours of the game that sets the stage for a more intriguing answer to the plague ravaging the Living Lands. This setup is ultimately squandered, however, with the two big narrative hooks coalescing with one another in routinely expected and uninteresting ways, making the broader strokes of the story largely forgettable. The conversational writing does have its moments of charm, with equally serious and snarky retorts letting you inject some levity into otherwise dire situations with great comedic effect. But the severity of the plague you're trying to stop and the personal journey of finding out why you're the only Godlike without a god is not as captivating as it could be, taking steps along a narrative path that rarely deviates into surprising avenues.

There is no game series out there that means more to me than Virtua Fighter. I spent my weekly allowance to play VF and VF2 in arcades, cavorted cross-country in search of rare Virtua Fighter 3 cabinets, and eventually connected with overseas friends by playing VF4 Evolution and Final Tuned in Japan. So when I see a new--or new-ish, in this case--Virtua Fighter game get released, I want it to be the best it can possibly be. Not just for myself, but so others can pick it up and understand why we longtime Virtua Fighter players adore these games so much.

Virtua Fighter 5 Ultimate Showdown--released a few years back on PS4--was a solid attempt at this, bringing the much-loved VF5 Final Showdown to PS4 with a fresh coat of paint. However, it fumbled in some key areas--particularly the netcode, which was a bizarre delay-based system in an era when fighting game developers were quickly and vocally embracing superior rollback systems. Now, with a new Virtua Fighter in active development and people talking about the series again, Sega has given us Virtua Fighter 5 REVO: another revision exclusively for PCs with the much-longed-for and player-demanded rollback netcode.

The rollback netcode is clearly the major selling point here, as much of the game is still built upon the foundation of VF5 Ultimate Showdown: The menu graphics, interface, and character models are largely the same, with a bit of extra polish and visual flair if you've got solid graphics hardware. But that's fine--those areas didn't need much improvement, so why fix what isn't broken?

There's a tavern in the town of Troskowitz where the barmaids must be sick at the sight of me. I've been there twice, and both times been involved in messy brawls despite not tasting a lick of alcohol. The second of these fisticuffs was against a small group of Cuman deserters. They seemed nice enough, but I was still wary considering the Cumans are who killed my parents a few months back. I wasn't the only one, and after failing to ease the growing tension, I decided to side with the local townspeople when push came to shove.

Needless to say, we didn't put up much of a fight. Once the Cumans left, one of the locals implored me to track them down and deal with them once and for all. After eventually tracking them down, the sole Czech-speaking Cuman was so welcoming that I ended up getting drunk with them. I got so inebriated, in fact, that my night revolved around almost drowning, playing matchmaker for one of the soldiers, and then having a conversation with a talking dog that definitely wasn't real. This night of revelry would've been fine on any other evening, but I promised two new acquaintances that I'd be up bright and early to join them on a critical mission. Even after sleeping for seven hours, I was still completely plastered when I arose from my stupor. And let me tell you, fighting bandits with blurred vision, a swaying body, and a soundtrack of frequent farting isn't ideal.

To some, this last part might sound utterly infuriating. To me, and others like me, this is part of what makes Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 utterly enticing. This is a game that sings when you're swept up in an entertaining series of events ignited by the consequences of your actions; where the game's quest design and emphasis on player choice wonderfully intertwine with its systems-driven sandbox to create a wholly immersive experience. While its 2018 predecessor was often disrupted by technical issues--which were further exacerbated by a frustrating save system--and clunky combat, Kingdom Come 2 refines and improves upon it in every respect. The obtuse nature of some of its RPG systems still won't click for everybody, but this is a confident sequel that builds on the foundations established by the original game, presenting a rich and sprawling adventure that effortlessly oscillates between medieval drama and slice-of-life hijinks in a world that feels distinctly alive.

Sid Meier's Civilization VII is the newest mainline entry in Firaxis' long-running 4X strategy series, which is built on exploring, expanding, exploiting, and exterminating across procedurally generated maps. Taken on its own, each campaign remains a superbly engaging escapade across eras that will keep you playing for "one more turn" until you realize you're late for your sister's birthday party. Civilization VII is not just a game that you play to pass the time during weekends--the experience is compelling enough that it is the weekend, and maybe several weekdays of your life, too.

For Civilization VII, Firaxis has made some sweeping changes, most notably with how you progress through each historical period. Several of these new features are welcome, given that they address concerns from previous titles while also making campaigns more dynamic. However, a few design decisions are bound to be contentious, especially for longtime fans, since these mechanics tend to impact the player's control over certain outcomes.

One of the biggest changes in Civilization VII is how you choose leaders and nations separately. Gone are the days when picking Augustus Caesar or Napoleon meant automatically playing as Rome or France, respectively. Instead, leaders have a unique trait that defines their playstyle, and you can select a country independently to complement that playstyle.

Eternal Strands weaves together a deeply intriguing scene from its earliest moments, stitching together a picture of a fantasy world built around the concept of magic emulating threads. It's a world I wanted to dive into from the jump, if only to uncover more of how it came to be and what the cultures of the different locations are like. And as much as the worldbuilding retains that wonder with incredible-looking environments that make for engaging play spaces for the physics-based magic system, the beat-for-beat details of Eternal Strands' story aren't nearly as rewarding to unravel.

Eternal Strands' story too often hits on familiar fantasy tropes, such as an inexplicable magical disaster that changed everything and a corrupting force that seemingly has no weakness and must be avoided at all costs. But the history that story is built on adds a semblance of life to the world, building memorable NPCs that you want to come back to again and again to talk about what in their life led them to where they are now, and painting a somber undertone to the world that begs to be uncovered through its detailed lore notes and optional collectibles.

I especially love how Eternal Strands packages aspects of its history so they're viewed through the art of weaving--not a typical choice for action-adventure games. Concepts like spells are recontextualized, transforming from arcane runes into fashion choices. You can largely avoid the historical exposition if you'd rather spend your time swinging a sword and spewing fire, but there's some great writing to uncover here for lore hounds.