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Sovereign Tower
Developer WILD WITS GAMES • Publisher Curve Games • Release August 6, 2026 • Reviewed On PC
My title for this review comes from a ballad sung in-game by a renowned traveling bard. She casts a spell with her soaring song and it gives voice to all my hopes for Sovereign Tower. The lyrics sing of a crumbling edifice which once, in a misty past, had been a beacon for the realm’s people. Its light had long been snuffed out when I, a nameless leper, flee the burning destruction of my village. In my flight, I stumble upon the steps of the legendary spire and unexpectedly claim the throne.
The bard comes before me early in my reign, eager to craft the tale of the new king. Meanwhile, I listen with the hope the game will replicate its angelic essence. I want it to reach the same heights, inspire the same wonder, and make me feel equally invested in bringing my land back to its former glory. Sovereign Tower managed that and more.
First and foremost, I can not overstate the beauty of the art style. Its conspicuously hand-drawn images recall the illustrations in an old leather-bound book of lore. Each character is replete with details to give the player an immediate sense of who they are. The arrogant and noble knight Gwendan, for example, appears in a shimmering suit of mail which can’t quite distract from the fact he literally turns his nose up at everyone around him.
Meanwhile, the stablehand Rowan’s shyness manifests in the way his hair is drawn over his eyes, like he can barely stand to peak out at you. I also deeply need to note that the characters, like in Hades before it, are some most dripping hot versions the artists could have drawn. And you can choose to romance many of them. In fact, the fate of the game can and will change wildly depending on whether you make that choice.
Anyone who knows me understands my admiration for this kind of hand-drawn art. So when I say it is not even close to the most impressive part of the game, I hope you can understand what a serious sentence that is.
Choice is the true ruler of Sovereign Tower.
It boggles my mind how many branching nexuses I personally encountered, let alone how many there must be in total. The narrative flows like a rocky river under an autumn tree. The falling leaves strike the once smooth surface, sending ripples across its entire span before the flow is disrupted by immovable forces sweeping you into the rapids.
In my day-to-day court life, I hold audiences for any that would petition the king. My responses to these can change my own stats. A particularly wise approach might grace me with a higher wisdom level where as a snarky comment may increase my audacious stat. These choices open up new doors, or maybe it closes them but unlocks a window.
Beside my tone, the actions I take can draw in allies, in the form of both individuals and nations. Some who come before me wish to join me either as knights of my round table or as servants to the tower. The latter offer helpful consumables, needed knowledge, and chance-boosting services. While the former become the tools to shape my reign. Others will ask for me to intervene in geopolitical affairs.
Accepting people into my service can cause neighboring lands to feel differently towards me — like if I give the noble nephew of another land’s ruler a position of pride, for example. And how I treat the realms around me can excite or disgust my retinue. All the influence combines to create a new drop in my churning river.
The people surrounding me, from advisors to allies, have their own past, moralities, and concerns. My first knight loves animals, and so will desert my table if forced to harm them. By this act and their absence, I may not be able to access certain story beats. I may not inspire the loving interaction necessary to prompt a dark knight to turn towards the light. I may not be able to complete a quest that begs for a animal lover.
And that’s only one choice made regarding one character. It seems like every moment of my royal life holds opportunities. I have no idea what unintended consequences might stem from dismissing a debt-ridden supporter or acquiescing to a character’s dearest wish. In the cases above, one path leads to careworn redemption and the other remorseful mastery.
That’s not to mention that tabletop-like stats that accompany each knight. By successfully completing my commands, my champions can gain experience and level up. That offers me the choice of which stat I’d like to increase. I can push timid souls into fighting demons.
However, their characters’ are marked by set personality aspects. Pushing a scholarly knight into fighting my simply result in them abandoning me. Members of my round table may or may not match up to the quests I’ve promised to fulfil in my audiences. This can be especially dire when, in every new act, a world-changing threat descends upon me. It requires me to satisfy the various factions in my kingdom and muster my strongest warriors to see the dawn of a new day. Failure in these moments do mean the end of my rule.
So what decisions will you make when you take up the crown? The choices I made stuck in my throat when I first rolled credits, prompting me to turn to the powers hidden deep in my dungeons to give me one more chance. The option is masterfully tempting throughout the game. And though I felt more settled with my second fate, I still craved an ending I know I could reach. An ending that would truly leave the tower standing proud and fair.
So even though I am technically twice-over finished with Sovereign Tower, it is not finished with me. I need to see where other paths might have taken me, discover friends waiting for help, and look over a realm ruled over by peace.
Recommended For
- Art appreciators
- Romance fiends
- Players seeking choice
- Fans of branching narratives
- Tabletop pros
- Anyone willing to take up the fate of the tower
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