When literally everyone is telling you that something is a bad idea, maybe you should listen. This is perhaps the core lesson of The Excavation of Hob’s Barrow, whose characters spend almost the entire game telling you that under no circumstances should you excavate Hob’s Barrow. Even if it did exist. Which it doesn’t. Go home already!
In this heavily 90s LucasArts-influenced point-and-click adventure you play antiquarian and barrow-digger Thomasina Batemen. It’s the late 1880s and you’re on a trip to the isolated Yorkshire village of Bewlay on the hunt for the titular burial mound.
Bewlay is populated by quickly sketched yet compelling archetypes, most of whom are either hiding dark secrets or playing their cards very close to their chest when it comes to outsiders. There’s the old man furious that the railway has spoilt the village’s isolation, the regretful drunk, the friendly vicar who’s clearly hiding something, and the old lady famed for her delicious Bakewell tarts.
Much of the puzzles are grounded in gentle social engineering rather than esoteric point-and-click randomness. For example, if you need to lure a watchful eye away from a locked door you arrange for a pitched debate down at the pub they won’t be able to resist.
The final act of the game gets more straightforwardly puzzly, but as the game gives you an in-universe hint book it’s unlikely anyone seasoned in Monkey Island-style bullshit is going to have trouble with anything here.
But the low puzzle complexity works, as Hob’s Barrow is about a gradually mounting sense of dread that needs forward momentum to work properly. Key to this is the disconnect between you and Thomasina, who’s dead set on pursuing what’s clearly a bad idea. She’s charismatic, forthright and you only want the best for her, yet you won’t be able to resist marching her onwards towards that god damn barrow.
Hob’s Barrow matches its impeccable folk horror vibes with some truly impressive pixel-art graphics. There’s not a bad backdrop in the game, character animation is intricate, and the game has a fantastic line in sudden eerie close-ups. These are truly a sight to behold: creepily over-animated and straddling the line between naturalism and caricature.
This was a classic case of the right game at the right time. I picked it up over the Christmas break and played most of it curled up on the sofa with my Steam Deck. If this is the kind of thing Cloak and Dagger Games turns out I’ll be there day one for their next game.
Pixel Hunted 