In its first few hours, Red Thread Games’ Dustborn showcases so many of the qualities I look for in a story-driven adventure game. It’s full of relationship building with complex characters, the stakes are high enough to draw me into the meaning of every dialogue choice I make, and its supernatural elements don’t feel so intrusive that they distract from the humanity at its core. I’m hooked. I want to know more about protagonist Pax and her band of nomadic, superpowered road trippers. But, my god, I’ve never experienced a moment-killer like Dustborn’s action combat in a game I’m otherwise instantly hooked into.
Dustborn follows a group of four smugglers, three of whom are “anomalies,” basically X-Men mutants who deal with similar types of persecution. Pax can use her words to force emotions, feelings, or actions on others. Her ex, Noam, can turn off emotions entirely, which is good for defusing a hostile situation or calming someone down after a panic attack. The secret use of these powers is one of Dustborn’s core tensions, as it can both expose the group to authorities who would gun them down if they knew they were anomalies, and use of Pax’s abilities can create a toxic, controlling dynamic between the cast. This makes every dialogue option feel weighty as you try to do your nationwide smuggling job without being noticed.
Dustborn makes it clear from the start that your relationships with your squad will lead you down different ending paths, and I already cringe when I feel like my relationships with characters like Pax’s best friend Sai are on the brink. Did I use my powers too hastily to resolve a tense situation immediately? Did I offer a gift at an inopportune time when I still had to figure out how the dialogue mechanics work? We’re criminals with the police on our doorstep. I thought I was being efficient, but now I see that I was also shortsighted. Hopefully I’ll have time to make up for these mistakes as the game progresses, but Dustborn effectively manages to create intense moments that test your patience and understanding of the person you’re working with. Every character has baggage from the start, like the unresolved relationship between Pax and Naom, or the lack of trust between the group and their boss, the enigmatic absolute daddy Theo. Dustborn already shows several paths these relationships could follow, and I’m already intrigued by the possibilities.
But talking to your teammates is only half the battle, as you’re all undercover as a punk band. Dustborn throws in rhythm minigames while you keep up the facade. The music hasn’t impressed me much so far, but there are more performances to come. The rhythm minigames themselves were a gamble, as rules about what the keys I press mean in the music made it difficult to really get into the swing of things at times. Sometimes it feels like the required inputs are in time with the strums of a guitar, other times they correspond to the vocals. The rules seem to change between songs, so I’m left wondering what I’m actually supposed to be paying attention to as I wait for each key press to be in time with the on-screen prompts. But while I expect to get the rhythm down soon, I’m already dreading the next time I’ll put down the guitar and pick up a bat to play Dustborn’s fight again.
Maybe I’ve been spoiled by growing up on character action games like the Devil May Cry series, but I’ve always felt that my standards for the genre were pretty high. Even reasonably competent action games like Nier fail to satisfy my cravings because they lack interesting enemy design to test my skills and reflexes. Dustborn, meanwhile, makes such a weak attempt to emulate those games that its action becomes an active hindrance to my enjoyment of the game. Pax is given a bat that she swings imprecisely, and at times it feels more like a half-hearted, superficial attempt at a beat-em-up than something with any depth. There are a few gimmicks that add variety, like Pax using her powers to push enemies away or a quick rhythm interlude to deal major damage to a single target. But overall, Dustborn’s attempt to add an action-focused pillar to its gameplay loop feels unwise and overambitious. It is always better to do fewer things well than to try to do too many.
Thankfully, after the second combat encounter, I had the option to de-emphasize combat for the rest of the game. This is supposed to make the game easier for those who are only interested in the story, but Dustborn’s bat-wielding brawls weren’t even challenging. They were just a trivial obstacle on the way to the things Red Thread Games does exceptionally well. President Theodore Roosevelt once said to “speak softly and carry a big stick,” but Dustborn doesn’t need a big stick to make an impression when the power of his words far outweighs the alternative. I hope I don’t have to pick up Pax’s bat as often as I continue her road trip, because so far it’s only made me want to turn this tour bus around.
