Arkane’s first masterpiece still deserves more love.
We all have that one game – the one we’ll defend against every “it’s outdated” argument, the one we’d recommend to anyone willing to dig a little deeper into gaming’s hidden treasures. For me, that game is Arx Fatalis. Released in 2002, it’s the debut title from Arkane Studios, and in many ways, it laid the foundation for everything the studio would later become famous for in Dishonored and Prey. It’s a dark, atmospheric RPG that dared to do something different, and it still holds up remarkably well today.
For those who missed it, Arx Fatalis isn’t your typical fantasy RPG. It takes place in a world where the sun has died, forcing every race to retreat underground to survive. You wake up in a dank, claustrophobic dungeon with no memory of who you are, and your journey is about much more than just leveling up and looting chests. It’s about uncovering the world’s secrets, mastering a surprisingly deep spellcasting system, and slowly realising the scope of the ancient evil threatening to wipe out what’s left of civilization.
A world worth losing yourself in
What made Arx Fatalis so special to me – and still does – is its world design. Every cavern, tunnel, and underground city feels – and is – hand-crafted, from the eerie Goblin Kingdom with its flickering torches to the human town bustling under layers of stone. The game’s underground setting could have been a limitation, but instead it became its greatest strength. The lack of sunlight creates a constant tension, a sense that you’re truly trapped beneath the surface and that danger is always a shadow away.
There’s a texture to Arx Fatalis’s world that you rarely see anymore. Cooking meat over an open fire. Baking bread by mixing flour and water and putting it in an oven. Scrawling spells directly into the air with your mouse to cast magic. It all works together to make the world feel tactile and alive – a place you inhabit rather than just pass through.
The magic of… well, magic
And then there’s the magic system, still one of the most unique in any RPG. Instead of clicking an icon to cast a spell, you draw runes in real time with your mouse. It’s clumsy at first, especially in the middle of combat, but once it clicks, it’s deeply satisfying. You’re not just pressing “fireball”; you’re actually casting it, shaping the arcane energies with your own movements.
It’s the kind of mechanic you’d expect to see in a niche indie game today, not in a 2002 release from a fledgling studio. It encouraged experimentation, mastery, and a level of player involvement most RPGs didn’t even attempt at the time. Learning the rune combinations felt like acquiring forbidden knowledge, and the fact that you could pre-cast and store spells for quick use in battle added layers of strategy. The way magic intertwined with exploration made every encounter feel like a puzzle, leading naturally into the game’s immersive sim elements.
Systems that reward creativity
Beneath the RPG surface, Arx Fatalis plays like a true immersive sim. Most challenges have multiple solutions, whether through combat, stealth, magic, or environmental trickery. Need to bypass a guard? You can sneak in the shadows, knock him out with a blunt weapon, or distract him by tossing an object down a corridor. Spells can be used just as creatively – casting “Extinguish” to snuff out torches and cloak yourself in darkness, or using “Telekinesis” to move a key from a locked room to your hands.
The game’s item interactions are equally deep. You can bake bread, forge weapons, brew potions, or set traps. None of this is filler – these actions can meaningfully impact your survival. It’s the freedom to experiment, to try things “just to see if they work,” that makes Arx Fatalis stand out. This design philosophy also enriches the way its dungeons are built, where every corner feels like it could hide a clever solution.
A story that unfolds with the world
While Arx Fatalis thrives on mechanics, it’s the story that keeps you pushing deeper into its caverns. You start as a blank slate, but the plot gradually reveals your role in a conflict involving ancient gods, forgotten magic, and an impending apocalypse. Rather than front-loading exposition, the game lets you uncover lore through conversations, books, and environmental clues. NPCs feel like part of the world, each with their own routines and agendas, which makes their alliances and betrayals more impactful.
Because the setting is so contained – entirely underground – the stakes feel immediate. Every faction you meet is fighting for survival in a world with finite space and resources. This pressure adds weight to your choices, whether you’re negotiating with the Ratmen or forging alliances with the Dwarves. The narrative pacing is deliberate, matching the slow burn of exploration, and by the time the true villain emerges, you feel personally invested in the fate of this underground worl.
Not without its flaws
Of course, Arx Fatalis isn’t perfect. Its combat can feel stiff compared to modern action RPGs, and the early hours can be punishing for newcomers. The interface is a little clunky, and some of its systems aren’t explained well, leaving you to figure them out through trial and error.
But these quirks are part of the game’s charm. Much like the best immersive sims, Arx Fatalis expects you to pay attention, experiment, and sometimes fail spectacularly. In return, it offers the kind of emergent moments that stick in your memory long after you’ve finished the story.
Why it’s worth playing today
What strikes me most, looking back, is how Arx Fatalis foreshadowed Arkane Studio’s entire design philosophy: player choice, interconnected systems, and worlds that feel alive. The DNA of this game can be traced directly into Dishonored, Prey, and even Deathloop.
Its atmosphere is still unmatched, its magic system still brilliantly weird, and its underground world still richly detailed. With modern patches and widescreen support available, it’s easier than ever to experience Arx Fatalis as it was meant to be played.
It may not have had the critical or commercial impact it deserved in 2002, but I firmly believe it’s worthy of a modern reappraisal. If you’ve never played it, or only remember it in passing, give it a chance – because Arx Fatalis isn’t just a forgotten RPG, it’s a blueprint, no, the foundation for everything Arkane would become eventually. Dishonored, anyone?
