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The Outer Worlds let me be an utter jerk, and I duly obliged

The Outer Worlds let me be an utter jerk, and I duly obliged

Signposts are wondrous things, when you think about it. Especially ones that point in all directions. They are laconic guides, yes, but not pushy ones. Signs are spaces, cities, even worlds, in microcosm; they rescue lost explorers mid-adventure and herald the promise of more, the name of each destination teasing infinite possibilities, bewitching yarns, and the electrifying thrill of the new.

For me, now, it’s the latter: the names Cascadia, Fallbrook, Amber Heights, and Stellar Bay gleam in inviting neon lettering, bright against the blackness of space, as I contemplate a signpost on the planet Monarch. My one-hour sojourn into The Outer Worlds begins at the Fallbrook Crossroads, and I can stroll at my own pace to whichever spot I please, or none. I am unburdened by any active quest or objective, without the veiled hand of a developer thrusting me towards an orchestrated set piece.

I’ve heard stories about Fallbrook. Something about the production of questionable pork from mutated pigs. I’m going to skip that for now, thank you very much. Cascadia sounds a bit hectic for my liking, so, eventually, I turn right towards Amber Heights. I’m not sure if it’s that the name of my destination reflects my current state of indecision but I set out on my own, anarchic path, and I’m soon knee-deep in Mantiqueen gore.

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RELATED LINKS: The Outer Worlds release date, Best RPGs, Best space games


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The Outer Worlds let me be an utter jerk, and I duly obliged

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