Oh boy, where do I even start? So, this whole review thing… I’m diving into the Early Access version of “Game of Thrones: Kingsroad.” Honestly, it’s all based on what I played so far, and man, I have thoughts.
Game of Thrones, right? We’re talking epic fights, families tearing at each other’s throats, and dragons flying about. Netmarble decided to cash in on that vibe for their new mobile-friendly RPG. You’re dropped smack dab in the middle of the HBO show with one aim: Get. That. Power. But here’s the kicker: after twenty hours in this Early Access realm, running around with the northern gang, I’m getting these vibes. Like, I’m stressed about the grind ahead, not because of scary monsters or snakes in the grass down south, but how much time (or money) this is gonna burn.
So, set yourself in Season 4-ish. You play as a so-called “bastard” (awkward title, right?) of House Tyre. Daddy’s sick, so it’s up to you to snoop around Westeros, gather supporters, and eventually ditch that “bastard” label. You get to rub elbows with some known faces like Jon Snow (the broody one) and Samwell Tarly (the smart yet charming one), and a few baddies like Roose and Ramsay Bolton. It might seem overwhelming at first, but there’s a quick crash course to get you situated, touching on themes and taking you north of the Wall to remind you, “Yup, White Walkers are still a thing.”
First thing? Pick who you wanna be. Archetype, that is. Three choices: Knight with a sword, Sellsword with an axe, or an Assassin with daggers. Went for the hulking Sellsword—I mean, who doesn’t want to be like Tormund, right? That rage and brute strength can clear rooms. If you’re indecisive like yours truly, you can swap classes via the main menu and share loot. Sure, you’ll have to replay the core missions, but hey, sharing’s caring.
Oh, and the character customization? Surprisingly detailed. You can adjust face muscles (weirdly specific, I know), beard vibes, scars—paint your warrior however you like.
But anyway… getting into King’s Landing to rule isn’t a cakewalk. You gotta schmooze your way up, doing errands like a medieval freelance gig worker. Quests, bandit-busting, loot collecting—sounds like fun, yes? Well, not so fast. The technical side doesn’t quite pull you in.
At first, Westeros looks fab. The Wall, Winterfell, all of it! But hang around too long, and the magic fades. Grass and NPCs start acting strange, and the world feels like a broken record. Conversations are no better. People move like creepy mannequins or are as stiff as boards… and their eyes, gosh, they’re always watching.
Movement? Ugh. On foot or horse, it’s like slipping on banana peels. Sure, icy ground should feel slick, but even on normal dirt, I’m skidding around. The first time I lost control and flew off a hill was hilarious, until it wasn’t. Same goes for combat—it’s rinse and repeat. You whack a bunch of dudes, dodge, return fire, rinse, repeat. A couple of the quests forced me to think (like separating enemies smartly), but too often, it’s just a repetitive face-off till the too-familiar boss rolls in.
I mean, the scripts and cutscenes tug on those heartstrings a bit—missing kids, farmer woes. But actually doing the tasks? Meh. Lots of upgrade pathways could spice things up in the full game, but so far, nah.
Platforming puzzles are a breather from the monotony. Hidden goodies around the map bring some joy, though the floatiness of movement can still irk. Kingsroad feels like it wants to be a mobile “Assassin’s Creed Valhalla,” borrowing the open-world, map-ping features. It’s not bad, I guess.
But—and this is a big but—there’s this whole Momentum system (kinda like Gear Score) that locks much of the world behind stat walls. Buff those numbers! Or don’t progress. It’s kinda par for the course, but the loot flow starts drying up, making you grind or shell out cash. The microtransaction pressure is real. Want to revive faster? Pay. Fast travel efficiently? Pay up. All keeps nudging towards the wallet, blurring the joy of exploring this mythical world.
The truth? Kingsroad has its charm, buried under layers of cash-grabby stuff. Running with dire wolves in snowy fields can feel epic, but the constant reminders of payment prevent true immersion.
And here’s the kicker: Even after twenty hours, I’m barely scratching the surface. There’s loads I need to dive into—artifacts, estates—before my pen’s final word. But right now, one thing stands out: in this game, just like Westeros, you pay or you die.
