Caves of Qud Review (Switch eShop)

The legends of Caves of Qud stretch back into the ancient times, through mists of lore, to a moment of destiny. That’s right – all the way back to 2007, when American team Freehold Games began development on this ambitious roguelike RPG. After a 17-year journey to version 1.0 in 2024, gathering a devoted PC following, this intimidating, systems-heavy cult classic has rolled a new character on Switch.

The game is set in the post-apocalyptic, science-fantasy land of Qud. It’s populated by factions with either allegiances or animosities, ridden with organisms that either tolerate or seek to devour you, and driven by either rich spirituality or advanced technology. The either/ors are key, because whenever you start a run in Qud, it recalculates the decisions that set the whole scenario going. Your quest, as a new adventurer, is simply to get out there and survive in an exceptionally vivid open world.

Before setting out, you must choose between two genotypes: mutated humans and true kin. Mutants possess biological traits like a beak or slime glands, while true kin are humans enhanced by cybernetics like night vision or dermal insulation. Mutants are more fleshy and vulnerable at first, with a latent power ready to explode outwards as they level up; the true kin start tough and precise from the early game, but feel more and more dependent on technology as the levels climb. The two options are distinctive and fun.

At this point, though, we need a reality check. “Yes,” you say, “I’ve read that there are three-armed mutants and winged cyborgs and a stunning open world – but I’ve also seen the screenshots! Aren’t we getting a little carried away?”

It’s true that this harks back to an era of astonishingly over-imaginative cover art and flickery ASCII graphics, but the effort to see the wonder in Caves of Qud is only needed for a few minutes. Barely has its stingy tutorial dropped you in at the (very) deep end when the efficient visual style and humour-lined, Hugo-Award-winning scenario reach out and grip you. The pixelated rectangular tiles that sometimes look like they could be ASCII writhe into life as robots and mysterious creatures. The sweeping music and ambient soundscape rouse into epic scores with triumphant melodies and the bustle of thriving towns.

And once you’ve leapt into the world of Qud, what happens? Well, anything, really. You’re free to play as you like, just aiming to survive and become part of its procedurally generated history.

You won’t survive, though. My first achievement was collected by dying. It’s simply called “Welcome to Qud”. And this being a true roguelike, when you see “You died”, that’s your lot. No save points; no meta-progression: back to square one. It’s sad when your level-10 mutant croaks it after several hours’ play, but it’s also just part of their story. Qud is about making stories, and in that regard, it’s excellent.

However, there’s more to Caves of Qud than just regenerated lore and maps. A human spine of authored content runs through the cybernetic flavour text from the algorithms.

Firstly, the basic topography of the world map is unchanging. This gives the sense of new progress made each time you restart – it’s the same world, so how long can this character live in it?

Secondly, there is a quest line that’s completely authored. This epic takes you through caves, markets, and townships, hunting artefacts and running rescue missions for droids.

Or does it? Given how much danger is out there in Qud, trying to follow a plot amidst it all is hard work. It’s one thing to lose a dozen hours’ playtime when it’s a throwaway run of survive-until-you-don’t. It’s another to say goodbye to this week’s questing, knowing you’ll need to replay from the start. There’s also a massive difficulty spike – an evil trap from the developers, you might even say – designed, surely, to kick your character’s bucket just as you feel you’ve surmounted the early game.

There’s a grossly unfair dungeon, and given the roguelike rules, you’d better be in the mood to laugh it off and go again. (If you’re like me, you’ll fall for it repeatedly, finally clear it, after many hours, only to discover your character’s tongue has rotted and they cannot talk.)

On the other hand, the ingenious and fan-favourite edge cases of the deep system interactions — melting through walls, falling in love with inanimate objects, becoming formerly inanimate objects — are unlikely to come about without being forced into the dire straits of desperately keeping a run going.

There are additional play modes to address this. Besides “Classic”, there’s “RPG”, which lets you save your game at settlements – not ideal as these are infrequent stops on your quest. Rounding it out is “Wander”, which means most creatures won’t attack you and you gain experience through discovery, not combat.

This is a real tension at the core of Caves of Qud: without the authored content, it would lose the wonder of uncovering a story, but without the roguelike rules, the elaborate mechanics don’t get a chance to play out. None of the available game modes really squares that circle.

However you look at it, though, Qud is massive. The map is expansive, the systems are ornate, and the lore is compelling even before all the generated embellishments. But the interface is small. Text can be enlarged only at the expense of the play area, which itself is most effective when zoomed in. I found a playable balance, but you’ll want to consider your setup: a bigger-screened handheld, a big TV, or a monitor-on-desk scenario would probably be best – the vestiges of Qud’s PC past are clear to see.

The control scheme, meanwhile, is clever – clicking or holding 'ZR' to pass turns becomes the main interaction and it’s satisfying. Given all the behind-the-scenes number-crunching that makes the systems run, load times can drag slightly, and occasionally this translates to sluggish movement as the game gets ready for your next turn, which is usually instantly available.