The consensus is that Crimson Desert has terrible storytelling—it's not true

Even among Crimson Desert's most ardent fans, like myself, the consensus seems to be that the game's weakest element is its storytelling. And despite everything I'm about to write (and my spicy headline) that's a pretty fair assessment. But it's not remotely terrible.

Sure, Crimson Desert's narrative is constructed in such a way that it's impossible to not be baffled. What are Kliff's goals? What are we, the players, meant to be trying to do here? It's hard to parse, and I doubt anyone has a clue what's going on for the first 20-30 hours, and even beyond.

But while the game's main story is often a mess, I've been surprised to find plenty of compelling yarns—sometimes outside of the main quest, but not exclusively.

Expect some spoilers after this point, but just for the first area.

Kliff, for the most part, is a classic RPG adventurer cast in the well-trodden D&D mold. He spends most of his time just helping the locals out—be they pig farmers or the high nobility. In Hernand, the game's first main area, you'll spend hours and hours stabilising the region and claiming it back from bandits and assorted ne'er-do-wells.

This brings me to the Reed Devil quest, which is directly tied to the construction of your Greymane camp. So we're in main quest territory. I don't want to give too much away, but this is a corker of a quest.

A pair of Kliff's Greymane buddies had gone there to protect a nobleman, and Marius, another Greymane, is worried about them. What this kicks off is an exciting romp that includes the exploration of a blood-soaked mansion, complete with some optional puzzles and secret rooms; a whole bunch of murder; an exciting cliffside chase, where you'll fend off hundreds of teleporting villains; all culminating in a thrilling duel inspired by samurai fiction and anime.

You've got mystery, family drama, a close-call rescue and a fun, scenery-chewing villain. This is Crimson Desert firing on all cylinders, and it's bloody brilliant.

Prior to that, I had to visit a corrupt asylum run by a shady religious order—a quest that began with me trying to sneak in using a disguise, and which ended in an asylum-wide brawl where everywhere I looked there were guards and patients engaged in wonderfully-choreographed beatdowns.

These take place in the early game, so if you've not reached them yet, you soon will. And while I wouldn't call them complex stories, they are undeniably fun quests elevated even further by entertaining characters and quality voice acting. And they wouldn't seem out of place in an RPG like The Witcher 3. Sure, they don't reach the heights of The Bloody Baron quest—but few quests do.

I'm really enjoying all the Greymane-associated storytelling more broadly, too. And I'm surprised! We're barely introduced to them in the game's prologue before the Black Bear attack, which effectively destroys the faction; but as I've gathered up my lost comrades, I've found that there's a lot to like.

The aforementioned Marius is at the heart of this. He's quickly established as the soul of the Greymanes, and the way they react around him humanises this band of gruff, bants-loving warriors. Whenever we get a new arrival at camp, one of the first things they do is worry about Marius's injured leg, promising to avenge him and fretting over his limp. It's genuinely sweet the way they clearly love their hurt buddy.

We might have Kliff's voice actor, Alec Newman, to thank for this. He recently discussed how challenging the project was for him because of the haphazard way the story came together—largely late in the game's development.

He said he "just kept pushing and pushing and pushing about story and character" as much as he could, and while Kliff remains a pretty stoic, quiet protagonist, there are other characters who have much stronger personalities. His fellow Greymanes in particular.

"This idea of family and trying to bring something back together … I don't want to say they started panicking, but they were like 'Oh yeah, we really want this—we really want Kliff to care about his comrades', and I said 'Well, he does, but you haven't written that monologue.'"

I think it is clear now that Kliff cares, but he's still a bit of an enigma. The idea of the Greymanes being a family who have been brought back together, though, comes through loud and clear.

Crimson Desert is never going to win any awards for its story, but there's some genuinely good writing in here, accompanied by quite a few quests that any RPG would be proud to have. And I'm still firmly in the first half. Heck, the first quarter, if I intend to do as much as possible—which I do.

The problem is that it lacks a clear narrative structure. I've encountered plenty of great stories, but there's always this loose, flying-by-the-seat-of-your-pants feel throughout the game. This is a symptom of the game's messy history, but it's pretty common in game development. Despite the fact that, especially in RPGs, the narrative underpins everything else, it's often settled on very late in the day.

So while Crimson Desert is perfectly capable of telling compelling stories, and often does, the overarching narrative struggles to coalesce. It's simply not very good at tying everything together. But that's a separate—albeit just as important—issue.

If you've been holding off on checking out Crimson Desert because you're worried it's all sandbox with no good yarns, don't be. Storytelling is at the top of my list when I'm looking for new games, especially of this ilk, and I haven't found Crimson Desert's approach too offputting. And like most good sandboxes, there's a lot of potential for emergent storytelling. Just strike off in a random direction and you'll likely find something entertaining and engaging on the journey.