I received a promotional copy of Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2, and after playing it, I did something I rarely ever do—I went out and bought a physical copy for my PlayStation 5. Not because I needed it, but because I wanted it. This game is making gaming history, and now I have a memento to remember it. While this isn’t a Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 review, I need to tell you about the moments that made me fall in love with this masterpiece—and how it slowly broke me.
For years, we’ve been told that RPGs are about choice, about playing the role we envision, but so many modern games fail to make those choices feel real. They offer morality meters, branching dialogue, and multiple endings, but the world around you remains static—your actions rarely leave a lasting impact. At best, they give you an illusion of choice, but the moment you step back, you realize the game world resets with every completed quest, every reload. We’ve been yearning for something deeper, something more immersive, where the consequences of our actions truly matter—not just in cutscenes but in the very fabric of the world.
Kingdom Come: Deliverance II is that game.
The Fall of a Righteous Man
At the start, I had a vision. I wanted to play a good Christian—no stealing, no unnecessary violence, no cheating on Theresa. My Henry would be a just and righteous man, a knight in spirit even if not in title. I gave alms to beggars, prayed at every shrine, and made a point of settling disputes with wisdom and scripture rather than with my fists.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” (Matthew 5:27-28)
I even used that verse to settle a dispute between two men, one of whom was lusting after another man’s wife. I felt good about my role in this world. Then, reality set in.
Sin Creeps In Like a Thief in the Night
It started small. A spoonful of stew from a stranger’s kitchen—just to stay alive, I told myself. Food is expensive, and if I die of starvation, I can’t do good deeds, right? Blacksmithing was hard, and hammering out horseshoes barely put enough grochen in my pocket to keep me fed.
Then I started looting bandits. No harm in that, surely? They weren’t using that money anymore, and besides, they probably stole it from innocent people. I wasn’t robbing—I was redistributing wealth. That’s what I told myself. I was still a good man.
Until the wedding.
Drunk at a Wedding, Led into Sin
It was a joyful occasion. I drank, I laughed, I danced with a beautiful girl who had never danced with a man before. She confessed her love for me, took my hand, and led me to the stables.
Theresa.
I thought of her in that moment, but the temptation was too strong. I gave in. I woke up the next morning with a weight in my chest—but no time for regrets.
Then karma came swiftly. I was arrested for a crime I didn’t commit. A wrongful imprisonment. I served my time and told myself it was a sign—a punishment, but also a clean slate. God had forgiven me. I could still be the man I set out to be.
Justifying the Unjustifiable
I told myself I was still good, but the sins became easier.
Why spend money on food when I could just take it? Why waste my hard-earned grochen when I could put it toward better weapons, better armor? I was strong now—skilled enough to steal right from people’s pockets. A drunken vagrant stumbling home? Easy pickings. Why take the risk of getting caught when I could just follow him, wait for him to pass out, and rob him clean? Or better yet—knock him out cold so he wouldn’t wake up.
Small victories turned into celebrations. Celebrations turned into drinking. Drinking turned into addiction. Being just a little drunk gave me a charisma boost—why not stay drunk all the time? I could sleep off hangovers. No harm in that.
One night, I found myself flirting with a barmaid, just to get into her room. I was convinced she had valuable information—she didn’t. But by then, did it even matter?
Violence Feels Good
Drunken bar fights sharpened my combat skills. A man insults me? My fists do the talking. A noble looks down on me? I remind him why commoners are feared. I stopped resolving conflicts with words because it was easier—and more satisfying—to settle things with a blade.
At first, I told myself I was only killing in self-defense. I wasn’t a murderer. But the more I fought, the more I realized how efficient it was to simply end things before they became a problem.
Some bandits deserved to die.
Some nobles deserved to be humbled.
Some people… well, some people simply got in my way.
The man I once spared? I found him in the stocks days later, pelted with vegetables, humiliated. Maybe I should’ve just killed him. At least then his suffering would have been quick.
The Point of No Return
At some point, I realized I had become a monster.
Killing people in their sleep was just easier. The loot was better. I was eavesdropping on private conversations, learning family secrets, digging up graves in search of lost treasure.
Theresa.
It had been so long since I’d seen her. Would she even want to see me now? Probably not. So when a woman with a book I needed asked for 500 grochen or a night in my bed, I took the latter without hesitation. The choice was obvious.
It wasn’t about money anymore.
It was about power.
A World That Remembers
As my playthrough neared its end, I took a moment to step back and look at the world around me. The man I robbed in the streets was now on his knees in the marketplace, begging for food and mercy, his fine clothes now tattered rags. The merchant I stole from had shut his doors for good, his business ruined, his family gone. The man I had killed in self-defense left behind a widow, and now she sat at the inn every night, drowning her grief in ale, her once lively spirit now hollowed by loss.
I told myself I was doing what needed to be done. That I was surviving. That I was still a good man.
But as I watched the world bear the weight of my actions, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
And that’s exactly what a true role-playing experience should be. Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 doesn’t just let you play a role—it makes you live with it. Warhorse Studios has delivered in spades, crafting one of the most immersive open-world RPGs ever made, a world that reacts, remembers, and changes with every choice you make. Whether you walk the righteous path or descend into sin, the game never judges—it simply lets you be. And in the end, when you look back at the life you’ve lived, you won’t just see a game. You’ll see a story that was truly yours.
Full disclosure: We received a promotion copy of Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 on Steam.
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