Esoteric Ebb Review: The Disco Elysium Successor That Rolls a Natural 20 on Fantasy Roleplaying

Released March 3, 2026, exclusively on PC via Steam for $24.99 (10% launch discount through March 14), Esoteric Ebb from solo developer Christoffer Bodegård and publisher Raw Fury is the isometric CRPG that’s igniting the genre like a fireball spell in a crowded tavern. After 35 hours across two full playthroughs (one Nationalist cleric, one rogueish Freestrider sympathizer), plus demo revisits and boss rematches on Steam Deck OLED and a beefy RTX 4080 rig, this is the most reactively hilarious RPG since Disco Elysium. OpenCritic’s “Mighty” 89 average (100% recommend, top 2% of games from 15 critics) and Metacritic’s 88 (Generally Favorable) cement it as an early 2026 standout, with PC Gamer’s 90 hailing it “the best Disco-like since Disco.”

You awaken as The Cleric—a helmeted government stooge of the dead god Urth—in a dingy Norvik morgue, fished from the river with amnesia about your would-be murderer. Tasked by the magistrate to probe a tea shop explosion mere days before the city’s inaugural election, you’re thrust into Tolstad district’s underbelly: a warped arcanepunk fantasia where sphinxes guzzle wine, cats speak Spanish, and clerics pedal bikes. Political factions clash—Urth-worshipping Nationalists cling to tradition, opportunistic Freestriders push “revolutionary” hustles, dwarven Azgals demand worker rights—while you schmooze voters, uncover conspiracies in the City Below’s mimic-infested tunnels, and befriend oddballs like goblin rogue Snell (your snarky sidekick) or halo-eyed angel Ettir (dateable via Charisma shenanigans). The five-day structure ticks via conversations (time only advances on NPC chats or long rests), building to election-day reckonings. Choices ripple: back the wrong faction, and streets sour; befriend a telepathic ant, unlock hidden dialogues. Multiple endings hinge on alignments, feats, and whether you crack the case sans crime scene entry (yes, achievable). It’s Disco Elysium‘s introspective despair swapped for madcap fantasy satire—probing class warfare, faith’s farce, and electoral absurdity—without railroading. By my second run, picking pockets mid-boss fights or debating ideology during combat felt like cheating the DM.

Gameplay masterfully fuses Disco‘s thought cabinet with D&D 5e’s crunch, streamlined for narrative punch. Six core attributes (Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Intelligence, Wisdom, Charisma) aren’t silent stats—they talk, their voices shifting by investment (high-Strength: paternal quest-bark; low-Wisdom: paranoid whisperer). Allocate points at creation, pick two proficiencies, and select presets like “Dick-Ass Rogue” for guided builds. Checks roll d20 + modifier (ability + proficiency), with gear/slots boosting (swap a +2 amulet mid-chat). The Questing Tree—a gorgeous, branching mind-map—melds journal, skill tree, and web, where feats (unlocked post-quests via attribute introspection) reshape playstyles: “Gelatinous Insight” reveals mimic traps; “Voter Whisper” sways elections.

Dialogue is king: branching trees explode with zingers, screwball archetypes (river-wine sphinx riddlemasters), and “fights” as turn-based verbal duels—initiative rolls, spells interrupt barbs, companions assist (Snell backstabs arguments). Combat? Tense, text-based set-pieces: dice dictate flavorful carnage (e.g., Strength uppercut vs. gel-cube), but avoidable via talk or tricks (Mage Hand yoinks keys from oozes). Spells, memorized from scrolls, shine—brute Fireball clears mobs, clever Druidcraft exposes illusions, Speak with Dead grills corpses. Reactivity astounds: carry a “useless” trinket? Trap a boss. Pickpocket an NPC? Unique follow-up chat. Exhaustion from all-nighters hikes check DCs, risking permadeath. Exploration rewards curiosity: Tolstad’s streets evolve daily, City Below crawls with traps, “Behold” checks reveal NPC sheets for secrets. No handholding—stumble into mimics, learn via failure. Post-game? NG+ carries feats, achievements (25+, fair: no-death bosses, minigame highs), and replay for alignments.

Art pops in hand-drawn isometric glory: vibrant arcanepunk—neon-veined tunnels, fog-shrouded canals, bioluminescent fungi—evoking Disco‘s painterly grit but fantastical. Character models ooze personality (Cleric’s floppy helm, Snell’s mischievous grin); animations fluid (dialogue head-bobs, spell flares). UI? Questing Tree mesmerizes, but inventory clunks on Deck (slot-swapping fiddly).

Soundtrack? Atmospheric electronica-orchestral swells (tavern fiddles to abyss drones); SFX crisp (dice clacks, spell whooshes). Attributes’ VO? Minimal grunts/quips, but text conveys pathos/humor masterfully—no subtitles needed for immersion.

Performance? Flawless. Native 4K/120fps on high-end (GTX 1060 min, 8GB RAM); Steam Deck Verified (800p/60, 3.5-4hr battery OLED). Rare gamepad glitches (multi-highlighted options) and typos patched day-one; feats fixed in 1.0.1.

Esoteric Ebb evolves Disco Elysium: denser laughs, TTRPG dice tension, fantasy flair sans bloat. Vs. Baldur’s Gate 3: intimate detective-RPG over party epic. Pillars of Eternity? Wittier, reactiver. At 16-20hr main/25-40+ completionist, it’s value-packed.

Pros:

• God-tier writing: hilarious, philosophical, reactive gold.
• Innovative Questing Tree, attribute banter, spellcraft.
• Dense worldbuilding, lovable weirdos, political bite.
• Steam Deck perfection, replayable endings/builds.
• Unbeatable value—Disco soul in fantasy flesh.

Cons:

• UI/inventory clunky on controller/Deck.
• Minor launch bugs/typos (mostly patched).
• Familiar Disco/D&D beats; light on spectacle.
• PC-only (consoles?).

Esoteric Ebb isn’t mimicry—it’s a mimic with teeth, devouring tropes and birthing RPG joy. Bodegård’s homebrew shines: laugh at cat-Spanish, weep at electoral despair, triumph via rogueish ploys. CRPG fans: mandatory. Demo converts. In 2026’s sprawl, this 25-buck gem endures.

Final Score: 9.5/10 Roll for initiative—your next obsession awaits.