
What initially feels like having a crutch kicked out from under me, I soon learn to appreciate. I’ll come to rely on that mountain, central and tall enough that it’s visible across the world, because there are no quest markers in the game, or even a marker on your map to show where you are. In the distance are mountain slopes encircled by an enormous, ornate bridge. Outside the village gates are open fields, and I notice the shadows of trees shifting with the sunrise. I’ve been promised payment if I venture to a nearby cave to retrieve a rare mushroom for a villager in a settlement nearby.

So, I start my journey an hour before dawn, to stretch out the daylight hours. But money is tight at the start of your journey and a backpack big enough to hang a lantern on is expensive. Players hoping to see further than three feet in any direction will need a lantern when night falls. A real hindrance, not just a filter gesturing at the absence of light. When night falls, darkness is heavy and impenetrable. Daylight itself is a resource, vital but limited. There are fights with wolves and beasts, but mostly this is about the difficulty of travel, not combat. But yes, Outward is somewhat reminiscent of the popular action RPG, but a survival version of that game. There, I managed the whole intro without mentioning Dark Souls.

In this survival RPG, it’s the perfect time to start a journey. It feels like stealing something from the sun, enacting some celestial heist to gain a foothold on the day. I’ve always loved the hour before dawn, simultaneously blessed with twilight tranquility and electric with promise. Waking up so early it's still dark outside, and being wide-eyed with wanderlust. Outward is the first game I’ve played to capture a feeling I remember from childhood.
