Summary
There’s something special aboutindie RPGsthat swing far above their weight class. Without the luxury of bottomless budgets or sprawling development teams, these games lean harder into clever writing, meaningful player agency, and worlds that feel genuinely lived-in.
They’re passion projects, and it shows. Some of them are so well-built, so well-written, so mechanically tight that they blur the lines between AA and AAA altogether. These aren’t just “good for AA games.” These are just good games, period;some of the best RPG experiences around. They just happen to be indies as well.
WhatGreedFalllacks in polish, it makes up for in sheer ambition. Spiders Studio built a colonial-erafantasy RPGwhere diplomacy, swordplay, and politics are tangled in a morally gray narrative, all without AAA backing. The island of Teer Fradee isn’t just a backdrop; it’s a melting pot of native mysticism and foreign greed, where every quest can be approached with steel, science, or a silver tongue.
What really sells it, though, is how choices ripple outward. Siding with factions like the Bridge Alliance or the Coin Guard can lead to wildly different outcomes, and companions will leave or turn on players if pushed too far. It’s rough around the edges, sure, but there’s a beating heart beneath the wrinkles, one that’s earnedGreedFalla devoted following since launch.
CallingSystem Shocka remaster would be underselling it. Nightdive Studios rebuilt this cyberpunkhorror classicfrom the ground up, staying faithful to the original’s labyrinthine Citadel Station while updating its UI, combat, and atmosphere for modern sensibilities. And somehow, SHODAN is even more terrifying.
The rogue AI doesn’t just insult players; she deconstructs them, watching from every corner of the station while pulling the strings behind genetic horrors and twisted machinery. With no level scaling and no handholding, players are left to survive on their own wits, scrap together weapons, and unravel a mystery that’s more unnerving than any space horror blockbuster. It’s not just a piece of history—it’s a fully playable, fully terrifying RPG in its own right.
Piranha Bytes doesn’t make smooth games. They makedenseones.Elex 2continues the studio’s tradition of clunky brilliance, dropping players into Magalan, apost-apocalypticworld where sci-fi, fantasy, and good ol’ fashioned jetpacks all co-exist in wonderfully strange harmony. What makes it work is the studio’s stubborn commitment to freedom.
From the opening hours, players can run into areas they’reabsolutelynot ready for, talk trash to powerful leaders, or join a faction just to betray them later. The writing is direct and occasionally awkward, but the systems are deep, and the world doesn’t care whether the player is ready, it just exists. It’s that unforgiving, “figure it out" attitude that makesElex 2feel more alive than plenty of more expensive RPGs.
Divinity: Original Sin 2is often pointed to as the gold standard for CRPGs, and for good reason. Larian Studios didn’t just create aturn-based RPG, they created a sprawling narrative playground where nearly every interaction, choice, and dice roll carries weight. Players can play as custom characters or pre-written ones with deep personal arcs like The Red Prince or Lohse, and the world of Rivellon reacts differently to each of them.
Combat is a delightfully chaotic mix of elemental manipulation and positional tactics, where setting a puddle on fire or electrifying a cloud can change the tide of battle in an instant. What really elevates it is how free it feels. Want to kill a key NPC? Go ahead. Want to teleport a merchant off a cliff and loot his body? That works. And that’s exactly why players love it.
There’s no magic inKingdom Come: Deliverance, no chosen one, no prophecy. Just mud, blood, and a blacksmith’s son trying to survive 15th-century Bohemia. Warhorse Studios built the game with obsessive attention to historical accuracy, from the architecture of villages to the clunky reality of sword combat.
Combat is physics-based and stamina-driven, and even winning a duel with a bandit can feel like a life-or-death struggle. Conversations often depend on the player’s clothing, cleanliness, or skill in Latin. And quests rarely have neat, clean outcomes; they’re messy, like the real world. The game doesn’t hold players' hands, and that’s what makes it stand out. It’s ahistorical RPGthat treats history not as window dressing, but as a harsh, often unforgiving sandbox.
There are no boss fights inDisco Elysium, unless an existential crisis counts. It trades combat for dialogue, relying on internal monologs, psychological checks, and wildly unpredictable conversations to drive the entire experience. Players step into the shoes of a ruined detective in the city of Revachol, where poverty, ideology, and the ghosts of failed revolutions paint every interaction.
Instead of stats like strength or dexterity, players invest in skills like Inland Empire or Authority, literal parts of the protagonist’s mind that argue, bicker, and comment as he unravels the case. The writing isn’t just good; it’s surgical. Every line is crafted to cut, confuse, or coax, and by the time it’s all over, players don’t just understand the world; they feel wrecked by it. No AAA budget could buy that kind of narrative precision.
