Olden Era: A Worthy Successor, Still Baking in the Oven
Look, I’ve been playing this series since before half of you were born. I remember the chunky pixels of Heroes I, the opera singers of Heroes II, and the sheer, timeless perfection of Heroes III. I’ve seen the franchise handed from developer to developer like a cursed artifact, each one chipping off a piece of its soul. So when Unfrozen announced Heroes of Might and Magic: Olden Era, I approached it with the weary skepticism of a man who’s been burned by every sequel since the third one. I expected a corpse dressed in familiar clothes. What I got, somewhat to my surprise, is a game that actually understands what made the old ones great.
Let’s get the main question out of the way: does it feel like Heroes of Might and Magic? Yes. Absolutely. The core loop is intact. You have a hero, you tromp around a colorful map, you gather resources, you build up a town, you recruit an army of fantastical creatures, and you smash that army into the enemy’s face. The turn-based tactical battles are still the heart of the thing, and they feel right. The new Focus system, which gives you tactical points to spend on unit abilities in combat, is a genuinely smart addition that adds depth without overcomplicating things. The spell system, while a bit more obtuse than the old elemental schools, offers interesting choices with its upgrade paths. The new factions—Temple, Necropolis, Dungeon, Grove, Hive, and Schism—each have a distinct identity and playstyle, even if the bugs of the Hive and the jellyfish of the Schism take some getting used to for a grognard like me. The town screens are gorgeous, animated dioramas that make me want to just sit and watch the water wheel turn. The music, while not yet as iconic as Paul Romero’s masterpieces, is solid and sets the right mood. In short, the foundation is strong. The developers clearly love this franchise and have poured their hearts into getting the gameplay right.
But here’s where the weary old veteran sighs, takes a long sip of lukewarm black coffee, and starts pointing. Because Olden Era is, at this moment, an Early Access game, and it has all the rough edges that implies. The single-player experience—which, for a player like me who spent countless hours on hot-seat matches and campaign maps, is the entire experience—is currently deeply flawed. The most glaring issue is the AI. And I don’t mean “slightly predictable” AI. I mean “this thing is either a brain-dead sloth or a cheating, omniscient god” AI. On Normal difficulty, the enemy hero often wanders around its starting area like it forgot why it left the house, never pushing out to challenge you. You’ll build up a respectable army, stroll over to its castle, and find a paltry defense. It’s a boring, hollow victory. Crank the difficulty up to Hard, however, and you get a completely different, equally broken experience. The AI will be at your doorstep on Week 2 or 3 with a ridiculous army that it could not possibly have built under the same rules you’re playing by. We’re talking about stacks of 200 tier-1 units and a dozen tier-7 creatures—impossible numbers. The AI doesn’t play the same game you do; it cheats, and it cheats hard. This isn’t strategy. This is a race against a script that has been told to win at all costs. The fact that the AI also refuses to retreat or surrender, leading to tedious mop-up operations after its main hero is killed, just adds insult to injury. There is no middle ground between “boring cakewalk” and “impossible rush.” This is a fundamental problem that needs to be addressed before the game can be seriously recommended for single-player.
Then there’s the campaign. Oh, the campaign. I’ve read better worldbuilding on a bar napkin. The story is standard-issue “ancient evil awakens (it’s bugs)” fare, which is fine, but the writing is painfully juvenile. Characters blurt out exposition like they’re reading from a wiki page. The dialogue is peppered with “umms” and “hmphs” that might work in a voiced cutscene but just look clunky in text. It lacks the charm and the slightly darker edge that the best M&M writing had. You’re stuck playing as a Dungeon hero for the entire first act, which feels restrictive, and the campaign is short—only one act is available. It’s a tutorial in spirit, but a poorly designed one. I appreciate the attempt at branching choices, but they feel superficial and the payoff is nonexistent. If you buy this game for the campaign, you will be disappointed.
The visual design is another point of contention. The game looks good in motion—spells are flashy, unit animations are smooth, and the world map is vibrant. But the readability is terrible. Units on the battlefield, especially for factions like Hive and Schism, blend into the background and into each other. I’ve lost track of my own upgraded units because they look almost identical to their base form, or to a different unit entirely. The town screens, while pretty, are a navigational nightmare. You can’t tell at a glance where your buildings are; you have to rely on the sidebar icons. The map is cluttered with resource piles that are hard to see among the foliage and terrain. In Heroes III, you could tell an Ore Mine from a Sawmill at a glance. Here, they all look like generic fantasy huts with a few props scattered around. It’s a step backward in functional design, even if it’s a step forward in graphical fidelity. It’s like they sacrificed clarity for a prettier screenshot.
And the bugs. Oh, the bugs. It’s Early Access, so I expect them, but some are real head-scratchers. Spells from entire schools of magic have been completely blocked for an entire battle for no discernible reason. The spellbook UI can become unresponsive, locking you out of your abilities. The game has crashed a few times on my fairly beefy system. These are things that will hopefully be ironed out, but they’re frustrating nonetheless.
Now, let me give credit where it’s due. The bones are good. The combat is fun. The new skill system with its subclass specializations is a welcome depth. The Law system, which lets you pass empire-wide edicts, is a clever way to spend a secondary resource and customize your strategy. The fact that you can now purchase any spell you want from the mage guild, rather than being stuck with a random roll, is a fantastic quality-of-life change. The simultaneous turns in multiplayer are a godsend for anyone who wants a faster-paced game. The map editor, even in its rudimentary state, promises a future of endless custom content. The developers are incredibly active on forums and Discord, listening to feedback and pushing out patches. They get it. The potential here is enormous. This could very well be the best Heroes game since the third one. It could, with enough time and care, even surpass it.
But “could be” is not “is.” Right now, what you’re buying is a solid competitive multiplayer game with a deeply broken single-player mode. If you want to build a ladder-climbing duel opponent, or if you have a group of friends willing to commit to a long hot-seat session, you’ll find a lot to love. The PvP foundation is rock-solid. For those of us who want to conquer a believable world against a challenging but fair AI, or get lost in a well-written campaign, the game is not ready. It feels like the development focus has been entirely on the competitive side, with the PvE elements treated as an afterthought. The road map, which focuses on balance and PvP features, doesn’t fill me with confidence that the single-player experience will be prioritized.
So, what’s my verdict? I’m stuck in the middle. I’m giving it a cautious, hopeful… let’s call it a 6/10. It’s not a bad game. It’s an incomplete game with a fantastic core. The devs are good people who care. If they fix the AI, flesh out the campaign with competent writing, improve the UI readability, and squash the bugs, this could be a 9 or even a 10. It could be a game I play for the next 20 years. But right now, I can’t in good conscience recommend it to someone who, like me, just wants to fire up a random map against the AI on a rainy Saturday. Not yet. Wait for a few more patches. Let it cook. The recipe is right, but the oven ain’t done yet.