It's 2026, and let me tell you, diving back into Avowed for what I call my 'Inquisitorial Compliance' run has been an absolute blast. You know the feeling when you just want to be the absolute worst, most dogmatic person in the room, but in a fantastical, consequence-free world? That's where I'm at. Forget being the gentle wizard I was on my first run. This time, I'm channeling something far more... zealous. I'm bending the very soul of this fantasy setting to accommodate a character who'd be right at home in the grim darkness of the far future. Think less 'wise sage' and more 'grizzled veteran who'd glass a planet over a paperwork error.' It's a vibe, honestly.
The core idea was simple, but a bit cheeky: I wanted to play a Witch Hunter. You know the type—the Victor Saltzpyres of the world, all grizzled scowls, archaic firearms, and a deep-seated, career-long commitment to making life miserable for anything vaguely magical. But here's the rub, and it's a big one: I also wanted to use magic. I'm sorry, but the game throws these gorgeous, crackling magic swords, these humming arcane pistols, and these devastating spellbooks at you. Am I just supposed to ignore them because of some arbitrary 'anti-witch' aesthetic? Not a chance, mate.
So, I bent the rules. I didn't just make a Witch Hunter; I transplanted the entire concept of a Warhammer 40,000 Inquisitor straight into the Living Lands of Eora. Yeah, I'm mixing my sci-fi and fantasy genres like a mad alchemist. What of it? The beauty of roleplaying is making the fiction work for you. 40K Inquisitors are the perfect template: they're brutal, uncompromising tools of a distant, uncaring authority, utterly convinced that any atrocity is justified if it serves the 'greater good' of their empire. Exterminating a city block because you heard a weird chant? Standard Tuesday. Invading a peaceful region to 'civilize' it with an iron fist? Just doing the Emperor's work.
This mindset maps scarily well onto the Aedyr Empire's attitude in Avowed. My character, a self-styled Inquisitor of the 'Ordo Aedyranus,' sees the Living Lands not as a home for people, but as a frontier to be conquered, pacified, and brought to heel. His loadout says it all:
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Main Hand: A flaming greatsword (because a power sword wasn't available).
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Off-Hand: A lightning-charged pistol (a fine stand-in for a bolt pistol).
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Utility: The most destructive spellbook I could find (because sometimes you need to purge from a distance).
He's not here to make friends. He's here to enforce doctrine, root out heresy (which, in his eyes, is any magic not sanctioned by Aedyr), and generally rule with a brutal, unflinching fist. The ends always justify the means. If a few villages get... rearranged... in the process of securing the region, so be it. Collateral damage is just a sign of thoroughness.
Now, this whole power fantasy hit a delightful snag almost immediately. There's already an Inquisitor in Avowed, and she's fantastic. Enter Lodwyn. She's the real deal—polished, intimidating, clad in gorgeous armor, and operating with the full backing of the empire. For a second, I thought my roleplay was sunk. How can there be two top-tier zealots in one story?
The solution was beautifully simple. My guy isn't actually a 40K Inquisitor. I'm not writing fanfiction about a warp portal dropping Eisenhorn into Eora (though... hmm). No, my character is just a particularly grim, fanatical, and trigger-happy Aedyran agent who thinks and acts like a 40K Inquisitor. He's adopted the aesthetic, the ruthlessness, and the single-minded purpose. He's a bloke who took the empire's propaganda a bit too seriously and now has the firepower to act on it. He's not official; he's just... extra.
This creates a fascinating dynamic with Lodwyn. Personally? I kinda admire her style. She's got the authority and the drip that my wannabe-Inquisitor can only dream of.
My 'evil' playthrough has become less about mindless slaughter and more about navigating this twisted reflection. What does my fanatic do when faced with the empire's actual sanctioned fanatic? The options are delicious:
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Total Submission: Become her most loyal, vicious attack dog, carrying out her will with even more extreme prejudice.
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Rivalry: See her as a competitor or a heretic for not being zealous enough, and work to undermine her.
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Usurpation: Dream of the day I can take her place, wearing that fancy armor and making the real big decisions.
It's this kind of internal narrative that makes the run so engaging. I tried a full Dark Urge run in Baldur's Gate 3 back in the day and fizzled out—that game is a massive commitment for a bit of cartoonish villainy. Avowed in 2026, though? It's the perfect size. In a year still packed with huge RPGs, being able to blast through a focused, roleplay-heavy run like this in a week or two is a gift. It respects my time while letting my imagination run wild in the dark corners.
On a more serious note, playing this way has made me appreciate Avowed's design philosophy all over again. It's not that letting you play a bad guy is revolutionary—it's that the game provides the framework for you to build a specific, nuanced kind of bad guy. My Inquisitor isn't just a psychopath; he's an ideologue. He has a warped logic, a perverse sense of duty, and a clear (if terrible) goal. This stands in stark contrast to some modern RPGs where your 'evil' choices can feel like random acts of cruelty, or where your character's personality is so bland it doesn't matter what you pick (I'm looking at you, memories of Dragon Age: The Veilguard).
Avowed gets it. It lets you be the hero, the villain, or the quiet observer who just wants to get paid. And those genuine roleplaying opportunities—the chance to not just choose a path, but to inhabit a persona along it—are what keep me coming back to these worlds. They make the story mine. So, if you'll excuse me, my pistol needs reloading, my sword needs sharpening, and there's a settlement of Paradisans looking a bit too independent for their own good. The Emperor—er, the Emperor-Aedyr—protects.
| My Inquisitor's Creed | The Aedyran Justification | The 40K Inspiration |
|---|---|---|
| Purge the Unclean (Magic) | Secure the Living Lands from wild, dangerous magic. | Purge the Witch, the Mutant, the Heretic. |
| Rule by Fear & Force | Establish lasting Aedyran order and stability. | Compliance through overwhelming force. |
| The End Justifies Any Means | The prosperity of the Empire outweighs local costs. | Innocence proves nothing. A single heresy can doom a world. |
| Absolute Loyalty to the Authority | Unquestioning service to the Aedyr Emperor. | Unwavering faith in the God-Emperor of Mankind. |
It's a fun little mental framework, you know? Gives the whole playthrough a unique flavor. Anyway, duty calls. The xenos—I mean, the locals—won't oppress themselves.
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