Speaking as a grizzled completionist of everything FromSoftware has ever inflicted upon humankind—from Demon’s Souls to Erdtree—I figured Nightreign would be one more purgatory to persist through. You know—another video game equivalent of a Gobstopper—built hard enough to hurt you but conquerable and delicious if you suck at it for a while.
Even with that understood, however, this roguelike spin-off still represented a new type of underworld that not even masochistic me was fully prepared for. Because apparently, in the eternal fire of From’s abyss of abuse, situated several circles below the pain of Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree, exists a darker place.
It’s the time-wasting, controller-biting Hell of other people and server reliance.
It’s the time-wasting, controller-biting Hell of other people
You can play Nightreign solo, and it will scale down some. But that’s like saying you can steer a car with your feet. You could do it, but it’s not to be done. Co-op is what this has really been designed for, but unless you’re organised on Discord or possess the charisma stats to have actual pals, expect at least some trouble ahead.
Most of you are going to play this with strangers who can only communicate through the mediums of emote and poor life decisions. And, worse, there are penalty systems in place to tether you to these random yahoos for 20-to-30 minute runs—be that a great and profitable venture, an average result, or a hopeless, pride-swallowing cycle of deaths that I will never fully tell you about.
I cannot stress this point enough at this juncture. When it was firing on all cylinders, and RNGesus was slinging me great gear, and I’d lucked into a 3-player crew of savvy veterans, Nightreign was GOTY material. Euphoric. More addictive than heroin pancakes.
Conversely, if you’re not motivated to set up a posse outside of the game, then there’s a way too high chance that the name of this game will become phonetically literal—your hopefully pleasant evening in Nightreign shall precipitate into tears.
Now, before I dive too deep into what makes this beast tick, let’s talk plot in a non-spoiler fashion. You will arrive at the Roundtable Hold, a gothic hotel lobby for interdimensional heroes summoned to purge Nightlord avatars across the realm of Limveld.
your hopefully pleasant evening in Nightreign shall precipitate into tears
You are not, however, You—you (as in your beloved create-a-character from full-priced Elden Ring). Nightreign deals in premade heroes, or “Nightfarers,” who undertake online Expeditions. Think of those as FromSoftware’s version of “escape room meets Battle Royale”—you get two “day phases” to farm gear, grind to a 15-level max, and tackle environmental events in a sandbox as you see fit before you’re all inexorably hemmed into nighttime boss fights. If you’re not all killed at once, your run will culminate in a boss fight against something with too many limbs, too much health, and not nearly enough chill.
Except the ice dragon. He’s super cool with everybody.
Defeating those behemoths will trigger some cutscenes with From’s usual understated but engrossing storytelling. Plus, you’ll find smaller opportunities to find out about your favourite Nightfarer in these multi-part mini-questlines. It’s all fascinating stuff that I loved, though it has to be said (and the lower RRP probably forewarned you of this), Nightreign’s entire tale is nowhere near the length of Elden Ring nor Shadow of the Erdtree.
You’re getting something bite-sized, though it’s a morsel that had me licking my lips for more.
You should buy into this for an incredibly replayable and addictive gameplay loop, not Gobs of Lore.
buy into this for an incredibly replayable and addictive gameplay loop, not Gobs of Lore.
Even if you’ve only caught a glimpse of Nightreign in action, it’d be abundantly clear that this is a zippier beast that is borderline power fantasy (right up until you get too cocky and get your arse handed to you). Nightreign’s take on traversal is Elden Ring Express—Surge Sprints, Vortex Lifts, Hawk Hangliding Points, no fall damage, and wall jumping all make every class highly mobile.
That said, and this is a minor nitpick right out of the gate, the latter cliff-humping mechanic feels frustratingly imprecise when the chips are down and that big poison wall is shepherding you to the next objective.
Being fleet of foot is just one skill needed to survive an Expedition, though. Complementing the abilities of your two teammates and selecting smartly from a pool of five (plus) Nightfarer classes is also key. A few more archetypes can be unlocked—including the Duchess, who was available in the server test—but I’ll leave you to discover those.
For now, just know that Nightfarers are more than cosplay options, as each brings their own minor and major flavours of carnage—and those can be made spicier still with the application of three perk slots filled with collectable randomised runes. They’re basically the only things that survive each round.
My least used hero in this roster was the Recluse. She’s a Nubian queen, Gandalf, who specialises in magically syphoning from mid-range, typically with poison, frostbite, and rot. She takes finesse to master, but watching a Nightlord’s life plummet while you’re dancing outside aggro range is rather satisfying.
watching a Nightlord’s life plummet while you’re dancing outside aggro range is rather satisfying.
Meanwhile. The Executor class is a cross between SoulCalibur’s Mitsurugi and an armoured gimp suit. I had tonnes of fun using their deflection skill to “sword out” incoming attackers, and the satisfaction of transforming into a Primordial Beast is a clawful lot of fun that speaks for itself.
Known as the Tony Hawk of tanking, the Guardian class is all about attracting aggro and redistributing it as avian-based abuse. Obviously, that big shield he lugs around makes him ideal for defensive absorption, but I’ve also saved many a team with his showy, divebomb Ultimate Arts.
Raiders, meanwhile, are jack-of-all-tarnished built for pressure, raw power, and stagger-tastic knuckle sandwiches. I loved using his Leeroy Jenkins tendencies, especially through his Ultimate Art that basically drops a bloody big Thwomp block down. Said cube can even create the old Obi-Wan advantage (read: high ground) for my actual favourite class…
And that would be Iron Eye aka Legolas on steroids. He’s defined by a bee’s dick of a health bar but also a bottomless quiver. I honestly never thought I would dig playing Elden Ring like a third-person shooter, but I have to say it’s brilliant fun, especially if you know when to dash-stab in to mark targets for hellacious damage. And there are big numbers aplenty when you combine that with an Ultimate Shot fired from what looks like God’s favourite harp.
I’ll leave you to discover Duchess and Revenant on your own; suffice to say, they’re absolute units who slap hard. Again, Nightfarer choices aren’t just about personal style—it’s about syncing with your team. That conformity is balanced, I think, by weapon drops and rune assignments that give you reasonable opportunities to inch a Nightfarer into a subclass that’s more your style.
But, it has to be stressed, if you’re too rigid and can’t adapt, you’re probably going to get locked into a cycle of downed Nightfarers, lost levels when everybody wipes, and then, ultimately, a failed Expedition.
if you’re too rigid and can’t adapt, you’re probably going to get locked into a cycle of downed Nightfarers
I spent a week before launch playing Expeditions and I never once got sick of it. In fact, just talking about Nightreign now has amped me up to go play it again and again, and probably again. FromSoft has the formula down pat here, but there are other layers that dig those hooks in deeper.
Mid-run, your HUD may gently ping you about the “earth shifting.” That means an event has warped Limveld’s terrain—think a giant volcanic crater seething with lava slimes or a woodland bathed in Scarlet Rot. Complete a novel objective in these volatile zones (like solving the fire-monk puzzle or navigating the rot-cured flower map), and you’ll earn an absurdly useful mission-long buff.
Big risk: potentially boss-shredding reward. Yet more addiction to have one more go. You’re going to be playing this for triple-digit hours.
When it comes to presentation, Nightreign toes the line between bleak gothic horror and vibrant fantasy. There are some deliciously diverse biomes, freaky caves, and fetching vistas to drink in as you’re threading your way through an interesting new cast of monsters.
The audio is where things get spine-tingly. The choir-backed trumpet fanfare before a boss entrance? Chef’s kiss. Ambient tracks drift between dissonant strings and pulsing synths, reminding you that peace is fleeting. And those sound cues—bosses snarling, lava bubbling, your teammates’ panicked yells—heighten every swing of your blade.
When it comes to performance, however, I wasn’t particularly happy with some random framerate chugs, which manifested in especially crowded brouhahas. Intermittent stuff and nothing I couldn’t take in my stride and deal with, but disappointing nonetheless.
I also had three crashes to desktop, which pissed me off greatly. The good news there: Nightreign does have a system where you can try to establish contact with your previous session, which worked for me. That said, you’re unfairly penalised by automatically losing a hard-earned level, which makes you the weakest link in the group. You also have to leg it over to your posse in the world, a journey that will cheat you out of yet more XP.
Sometimes clawing your way back is futile. Especially if you’ve been slumming it with a bunch of idiots who don’t coordinate objectives on the map or are underleveled and armed with a feather duster and harsh language but still insist on starting beef with every Cthulhu-level monster in sword range.
They’re armed with a feather duster and harsh language but still insist on starting beef with every Cthulhu-level monster
Again, if you try to divorce from this clearly toxic three-way marriage? You’re going to pay for it in your next run. And no matter how much I love this game, this facet of Nightreign is Dung Eater levels of crappy.
With all that being laid out, is Elden Ring: Nightreign a must-play? I still say absolutely—if you go in with your squad primed, a willingness to adapt and support, and an appetite for chaotic roguelite shenanigans. As for soloists, it is possible to eke out some better runes and progress some Remembrance storylines and dabble in the craters, but it’s hellaciously tough and devoid of the true magic of emergent and surprising co-opportunities that deserve to be shared.
At present, Nightreign is technically temperamental and occasionally unfair, but I believe it’s just a small polish away from true greatness. Its “just one more go” appeal is undeniable. I can’t wait to finish this review and get back into it, and I expect to see each and every one of you in Limveld at launch. All I ask: don’t hog Iron Eye. Because he’s mine.
