On my first day investigating the bombing of a goblin tea shop in Esoteric Ebb, Christoffer Bodegård’s self-styled “Disco-like” CRPG, I didn’t let a second go to waste. Was it magic? An explosive? Did it have anything to do with the upcoming inaugural democratic election? Or was it a random act of violence? So many threads to tug on, and I’ve only got five days to figure everything out.
Anyway, here’s what I got up to:
- I tried to eat my way through a mountain of apples until I felt sick.
- I talked a zombie into beating himself to (re)death.
- I then robbed said zombie (and about 40 other people).
- I became politically active and tried to gather support for my candidacy as “Wizard-God”.
- I solved a minor permit dispute.
- I failed spectacularly at flirting with an angel.
- I befriended a booze-guzzling sphinx and was sent on an epic quest.
- I uncovered a huge conspiracy quite accidentally while breaking and entering.
- I strained myself so much climbing up a medium-sized ladder that I had a reality-bending, out-of-body experience.
- Someone made fun of me so hard I quite literally died.
I’m gonna stop at 10 because if I don’t this is just going to go on forever. I was a busy lad. And when I called it a night at 1 am, concluding my time-sensitive investigation for the day, I realised I hadn’t gone to the scene of the crime or done any actual investigating. I’m not going to lie to you: I didn’t do much better on the second day.
Disco Elysium’s Harry Du Bois would be exceptionally proud.
I have been playing Esoteric Ebb’s protagonist—who can go by a bunch of different names and titles, but I’ve been making everyone call me The Cleric—a lot like Harry. Or at least my version of Harry. Chaotic. Messy. Deranged. And occasionally insightful. But the massive range of backgrounds, skills, traits and moment-to-moment choices means that you can play a straight-shooting jobsworth, a revolutionary, a zen-like druid, a power-hungry mage or simply Judge Dredd.
Disco Elysium is my Roman Empire—I can’t stop thinking about it.
The flexibility and depth of Esoteric Ebb’s tabletop-inspired roleplaying systems lets you take the lead and head off in whatever weird direction you want—though the game’s penchant for creative surprises and the fickleness of your D20s means you don’t always get to decide where you end up.
Disco Elysium is my Roman Empire—I can’t stop thinking about it. So my standards are pretty high for any game drawing comparisons with ZA/UM’s impressive debut.
I was excited about Gamedec, Broken Roads and Rue Valley, but that optimism led to disappointment. All this is to say, I ain’t messing around when I say Esoteric Ebb is more than worthy of the moniker “Disco-like”, not just because it successfully draws so much from its inspiration, but because it tries to do something new with it.
The D&D-style setting is not mere set dressing; it recontextualises everything.
Your chatty skills, for instance, largely function like they do in Disco, but they are now traditional RPG attributes like Strength and Dexterity. This means there are fewer of them, but as a result they all get more screen time and start to feel like fleshed out, multi-faceted companions.
They have goals and opinions and other skills they love to argue with, or sometimes side with, and sometimes they’ll come out with something that will even surprise the other voices in your head.
Bodegård even subtly ties these skills to certain alignments, as well as political ideologies, in a way that is both a nod to D&D and Disco but also a fascinating departure from them.
Intelligence is cold and sometimes cruel. It fuels your ambition and tells you that the world needs you to steer it. On its own, it’s effectively lawful evil and apolitical. But you can temper it with Wisdom, which encourages empathy and gives you a more holistic perspective. They are constantly debating in your head, but if you balance them then you’re going to be able to do some incredible things.
The impact of magic also opens all sorts of doors, allowing Esoteric Ebb to take you on much stranger detours as you commune with the dead, befriend animals and cover people in grease. It has Baldur’s Gate 3’s attitude towards experimentation, where you’ve got a permissive DM that lets you get up to all sorts of mischief while you ignore the main quest.
Magic also elevates the text-based combat, offering solutions to seemingly no-win scenarios that will make you feel like a tactical genius.
I don’t think I’ve ever actually encountered a CRPG that nails tabletop combat this effectively. A fight in D&D is as much a conversation between you and the DM as it is a battle of skills and dice rolls. You are always in negotiation with someone. So it is with Esoteric Ebb. Each brawl is a chat between you and your skills. Passive dice rolls will allow those skills to give you insights, and then you’ll debate and discuss your next move.
It’s honestly been a bit of a revelation—it feels so damn good. I still think Disco’s absence of combat was a bold and effective choice, but seeing how Bodegård has adapted this system for proper fights makes me crave more of this sort of thing.
To be very clear, I’ve yet to come out of a scrap without looking like a total muppet. Alive, sure. But unscathed? Never.
Esoteric Ebb might be at its best when you’re an idiot with an irrepressible appetite for failure.
It’s OK, though, because Esoteric Ebb might be at its best when you’re an idiot with an irrepressible appetite for failure. Aside from the very real possibility that you might die, it makes cocking up almost as rewarding as success. Sometimes the reward is just being able to laugh at the absurd consequences of your terrible decisions, but other times you might fail your way into a huge revelation, and no matter what happens you’re always getting XP and making some kind of progress.
What you and I consider progress, though, might be very different. I am almost pathologically incapable of doing the job I’ve been assigned, you see. I keep delving into dungeons, taking on quests, and having hour-long philosophical discussions with gnomes (whom I’ve just robbed).
I am derailing the campaign to the best of my abilities and Esoteric Ebb is more than happy to accommodate me. Wanna spend a day learning about financial agreements between free-market capitalists and bigoted angels? Knock yourself out, it says. Or maybe you’d prefer to reveal state secrets to help install a new socialist state. If that’s too heavy, why not stalk a lich?
Disco might have the trappings of a tabletop RPG, and it’s undeniably full of compelling detours and diversions, but it never really feels like you’re actually playing a tabletop campaign. You’re an investigator, not an adventurer. Esoteric Ebb lets you be both, enthusiastically adding a sense of adventure that ZA/UM wasn’t as interested in pursuing.
You’ve got witnesses to interrogate and crime scenes to pore over, sure, but you’ve also got therapy sessions with vorpal blades, shopkeepers to rob and labyrinths begging to be explored. It’s everything I want from a D&D campaign. And Esoteric Ebb is everything I want from a CRPG.
It’s out today, and I think it’s gonna be huge. Keep an eye out for our full review, and if you’ve yet to be convinced, give the demo a try.