Surviving the January Gaming Drought: Your Ultimate Guide!

Every Friday, A.V. Club team members launch the weekend by examining the gaming universe, immersing themselves in the concepts that form the basis of the pastime we cherish with a hint of Game Theory. We’ll express our thoughts in the section above, and invite you to share yours in the comments below, informing us about what you’re engaging with this weekend, and what theories are percolating in your mind.

Typically, January is not the most dynamic period for game releases. No one aims to have their major title available after the Christmas sales surge, and even independent games are likely recuperating from the abundance of sales that most digital retailers conclude the year with. This results in a somewhat lethargic start to the year, as we look forward to eagerly awaited releases later on—our own compilation of which will be presented next week, just as a heads up—or, if we happen to be the individual responsible for coordinating a pop culture website’s gaming coverage for the near future, we gaze at February with a gradually awakening sense of dread. (Shout-out to Ubisoft for postponing Assassin’s Creed Shadows this week; you might have done it for the shareholders, but those of us trying to juggle Civilization VII and Like A Dragon: Pirate Yakuza In Hawaii and Avowed and Monster Hunter Wilds into our agendas appreciate it, too.)

Naturally, you can’t play “looking forward to eagerly awaited releases later on,” so predominantly, January has been a month for tackling my backlog. It means dedicating time to those genres that require extensive engagement, diving deeply into role-playing games and the peculiar puzzle intricacies that ignite my inner indoor child’s enthusiasm. I forfeit practically an entire day last week, for instance, to Epigraph, a title I stumbled upon when I felt a craving for the thrill of “deciphering a fictional language” reminiscent of games like Heaven’s Vault or the more niche aspects of Tunic, leading me to browse the Steam store for similar experiences. What I discovered was a minimalist adventure that often had me exasperated, yet also stimulated all those exhilarating epiphany neurons that the finest puzzle games are adept at engaging.

The idea behind Epigraph—developed and brought to market by a creator named Matthew Brown, who has launched several titles of this nature—is exceedingly straightforward: You are presented with seven artifacts, each adorned with inscriptions in an unfamiliar tongue. A letter provides some context, a few clues on where to begin, and a sample word or two… and that’s all. The following hours will be consumed swinging back and forth between various digital stone formations, attempting to deduce rules concerning grammar, word formation, and even addressing simple inquiries such as “What is an individual symbol in a fabricated language intended to signify?” I wouldn’t claim to have thoroughly enjoyed every second I spent with the game—my threshold for irritation has been significantly reduced by *gestures vaguely to every other aspect of modern living*—but gradually unraveling the meaning and reason concealed beneath the cryptic symbols was a unique experience. I may not have relished all of my moments with Epigraph, but it’s the type of game I sincerely wish we had in greater supply.

On a somewhat less obscure note, I also ultimately concluded my playthrough of Dragon Age: The Veilguard—not due to its completion, but because I embarked on a new playthrough of Owlcat Games’ exceptional 2023 RPG Warhammer 40K: Rogue Trader, and the prospect of returning to Veilguard now feels disheartening to consider. (True anecdote: I booted that game up again a few days ago, walked a short distance, picked up a worthless “5 gold pieces” object from the ground, and immediately succumbed to the urge to shut it off again.) Rogue Trader is not flawless—though I appreciate it more than Owlcat’s previous two RPGs, primarily because I find its combat more intriguing from a tactical standpoint—but the sensation of existing in a universe with a clear viewpoint was so compelling that it eradicated any lingering desire to revisit Veilguard‘s muted fantasy heroism from my mind entirely.

Rogue Trader (and its latest DLC, Void Shadows, which I added for this new playthrough) is profoundly committed to showcasing a vision of existence in the Warhammer universe—with its Gothic charm, body horror, and immense fanaticism—that it can occasionally feel overwhelming. However, the power fantasy of depicting an unyieldingly hierarchical, frequently overtly fascistic society, and then positioning the player at the pinnacle, permitting them to breach almost any regulation with minimal repercussions, is incredibly alluring. (On an entirely surface level, the ability to kick off virtually any conversation with my personal Seneschal heralding my grandeur, and conclude it by commanding whoever I’m interacting with to be executed as a vile heretic, is highly addictive.) All three of Owlcat’s titles—Rogue Trader, Pathfinder: Kingmaker, and Pathfinder: Wrath Of The Righteous—take pleasure in placing players in commanding positions within their fictional realms, but Rogue Trader appears to venture even further, simply because of how dogmatic Warhammer‘s Imperium Of Man is. Veilguard does something that appears similar, thrusting you into leadership roles or having characters promote how remarkable you are. But its authentic regard for player choices is so shallow that it seems like receiving an unwanted pat on the head from the designer. Conversely, when Rogue Traderinvites me to decide, for instance, whether to obliterate an entire planet rather than allow it to fall into the treacherous clutches of Chaos, it conveys that my decisions genuinely bear significance. Void Shadows, introducing a thrilling new (extremely Gothic) companion, amplifies the uneasy amusement by enriching the content surrounding my Rogue Trader’s dynasty, highlighting the peculiarities and sufferings that underpin my character’s life of privilege and opulence, granting each of those significant decisions added consequence.

So, indeed: The January limbo may be a hassle from a coverage perspective. However, as a means of discovering those hidden treasures that reignite my excitement for gaming in 2025 all over again? Quite difficult to surpass.