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Sable Review: Serenely Satisfying Exploration

Sable is one of the most introspective, beautiful and captivatingly written games I’ve played all year. 

Created by Shedworks and published by Raw Fury, Sable is an exploration focussed open world game built around the coming of age adventure of the titular character, Sable.

An open world adventure platformer with no combat, Sable’s game design style comes down to satisfying movement mechanics, a mesmerising aesthetic for an open world and thoughtful, introspective writing and world design. 

After a brief tutorial area where you’ll acquire your ability to glide and construct Simoon, your companion/hoverbike, Sable begins in earnest. You’ll be directed to a nearby location, but really the entire map and game is open to you from that point.

Because Sable has a (mostly) flat design. And in fact, your enjoyment of Sable is going to come down to how much you can tolerate a freeform adventure that really wants you to involve yourself in the experience of playing. Even down to having a narrative that you can end on your terms after only a few hours. 

Sable’s Gliding (her rite of passage) requires her to go out into the world and acquire Masks. In this setting, your role in society is determined by your choice of Mask. Masks are crafted through spending some time helping people already in those roles. Like Guards, Climbers, Entertainers or more esoteric fare.

By spending time in that life, by helping people who already wear that Mask, they offer you badges. You collect enough badges. You take them to the Mask Crafter. An gorgeously animated sequence follows as the Mask Crafter creates the Mask for you. 

There are pretty much no mechanical benefits to changing mask. But it speaks to who your Sable is, and how the journey has changed them. And as soon as you have more than one mask, you can simply end your time in Sable. 

But you won’t want to. Because there’s just so much to see and do. 

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Sable offers a world that truly understands the benefits offered by that type of game design. An open world comprised of stretches of vast wilderness, dotted with ruins, small villages and ruined technological wrecks of the past. In between these points of interest are stretches of desert, populated only by the stunning visuals and the beautiful score by Japanese Breakfast. 

Every point of interest sparks off the imagination. One of my personal favourites was the Bridge of the Betrayed, a broken span between two towering sets of buildings, with gigantic jade statues locked in combat with each other on one side. This, and every site in the game, immediately encourage exploration. Which is helpful, as it’s this movement that’s the core of the game.

Sable is capable of climbing any vertical surface, which means almost every part of Sable ends up coming down to platforming in some way. It’s a system that’s also assisted somewhat by the fact that Sable can arrest her falls with the gliding ability that she takes on as part of her journey. Then there’s the moments you reach one of the wrecks of the past, steel and wiry constructs beached in the sand. Inside, you’ll find a dungeon-esque platforming puzzle that never quite outstay their welcome or become stale.

So far, so Breath of the Wild.

But what Sable does differently is mostly in the subtleties of this experience.

When Sable moves, her animation skips a frame. It creates a jerky, stop motion effect that causes her to stand out from the art design. Except when she sprints, when she moves with double her frames, which creates an effective illusion of speed. There’s some slight friction caused by the camera that always reads as slightly overexcited. It constantly autoshifts to stay behind Sable but sometimes this means poking through walls or holding at odd angles. With a controller, a great deal of this is eased by constant manipulation of the right thumbstick, but on mouse/keyboard it’s a touch less polished

When you jump and latch on to a wall, there’s a half second every time where Sable slides, and catches herself. 

Because of the fact you can approach any area at any time, it invokes a great feeling where with the basic stamina, climbing always feels to be either just on the cusp of spending all your stamina, or not something you need to think about. It makes the player feel that every challenge is either *just* overcome. It’s these little touches that help make this movement feel so special.

There are some issues with a flat progression/design as might be expected.

One of the ongoing collectibles is a weird egg product created by floating worms called Chum. As I explored the world and continued finding more of these, their purpose was left entirely unclear. Seven hours into playing Sable, while exploring the first available area again, I randomly stumbled upon the location that explained these collectibles. Which also let me trade them in to increase my stamina gauge. 

Now by that point, I had encountered difficulty with some of the platforming sequences. Not enough that I couldn’t use the geometry and platforming tricks to get where I needed to, but looking back at that point it became clear life could have been easier. 

And honestly, it was hilarious. I’d made life so much harder on myself just by pointing myself right instead of left. 

But it felt appropriate. It felt like the kind of story that absolutely could happen to a young kid out in the world for the first time, to be shared after the journey ends. 

With stories like that rising dynamically, the script and quests in Sable have stiff competition. But they rise to the challenge with aplomb. There is no combat, and the fact the population is spread among in small stations and one city limits the amount of dialogue/interactions in the world. 

That dialogue is consistently charming, without fail. There’s a thoughtfulness and care with the way in which the language has been chosen. Not least in how Sable herself reacts. Sable is a character prone to deep introspection and daydreaming even mid conversation. You constantly get little insights into her thoughts as she explores this world and meets the inhabitants. There aren’t great dialogue trees, and the largest settlement only holds around twenty people total, if even. But Shedworks imbue this small setting with a great deal of texture, meaning every interaction feels special. 

What this means is that there’s a concentrated sense of place in Sable. People are memorable because there’s so few of them, and every quest tends have a unique spin as a result. 

Of particular note may be that Sable has Zero handholding in its story and quests. If you want to advance, quests expect you to pay attention to the dialogue from the questgiver to resolve the situation. All the menus will do is mark locations or give general requirements. Not methods of solution or hints. Even the non quest led puzzles in various locations really do tax the imagination at certain points, offering limited guidance on how to advance. 

It’s an attitude that won’t be for everyone. For some people, this will do nothing build frustration and lead to looking up guides. But I read this as Sable bucking some trends of the open world. It isn’t designed for dozens of hours of gameplay. You shouldn’t be filtering through all your quests, trying to work out what’s next. You’ll not be travelling to the same place half a dozen times to complete several missions there. Instead Sable infers a more holistic approach, of addressing requests as they arise in the story. Specific journeys to destinations, travelling through the vast expanses with Simoon, your bike. 

In Simoon, the developers have created a surprisingly endearing steed. Sure, she often doesn’t come when called. Her tendency to pathfind by herself is poorly thought out. And she takes to the air far more than any speeder bike should, with landings as messy as any 10 year old skater. But she’s a character in her own right. After the game’s introduction where Sable brings her into being from collecting old parts, she’s the second protagonist. She has a hum. A constant throbbing heartbeat that accompanies you across the deserts. And so when I find various upgrades or parts to exchange for her, I found myself thinking what would be best for her, not just mechanically for me. 

It’s an effect of spending so much of the game travelling with her, watching as she throws herself around after landing a too fast jump. The world of Sable is almost lonely, but for her.

That world, it must be said, is unparalleled though. It’s not like stepping into a Moebius art print, it’s exactly that. Inspired feels a little reductive, this makes the paintings and drawings of the 20th century French artist into living, breathing worlds to explore. 

Even the character design speaks to a philosophy that goes beyond the norm. There’s an entire community of crystal beings, who use crutches to bear the weight of their frames. Each individual character has a specific mask and design, not just for artistic reasons but clearly marked with utilitarian additions. The world is dotted with naturally shaded newly constructed settlements in a North African style, even down to having a serai in the main city. This contrasts effortlessly with the wreckage of the past, hard angles, neon and deep green and blue shades. 

Even the passage through the overworld is beautiful. There’s a colour shift as the night changes from day. The rise of the moon washes all the colour of the desert out into blue tones, which creep back into brilliance as the sun rises. There’s an entire area where a raging sandstorm leaves cobweb thin trees silhouetted in black against a sepia sand shroud. 

It’s incredibly hard not to be drawn in by the gorgeous aesthetics of Sable. It’s harder still to leave when the writing and design all click perfectly into place with the themes of Sable.

Sable starts by leaving her village to find out who she is. As I became satisfied that I’d seen everything I wanted, the ending of the game required Sable to return home. As I rode back into town, I expected a fade to credits, maybe a montage of all the characters I’d met along the way. 

Sable continued. I was greeted by the village, welcoming me home. Each had their own mask, and their own suggestion on who Sable should be. Who Sable was to them. 

Even down to a truly beautiful piece of writing about how choosing to return to my first mask would not be a failure. 

Because you choose your mask. 

You can’t go home again. Not the same way you left. Maybe you can take the same route, talk to the same people, even repeat the same phrases. But the you that returns is different. Tempered. Both more and less the you that left.

Sable is a game about choosing who you want to be. The parts of your life you want to display, or choose to hold secretly.  The sense of self you project for others and hold for yourself. The mask you wear. 

It should be a mark of great pride for Shedworks as to how much I agonised over the final Mask I chose for my Sable. 

I cannot recommend Sable enough. I’m sure that some will find the bugs, the cameras, the lack of guidance to be frustrating. But for me, the sheer exploration offered by Sable was what was important. Both of that world and the self. 

Sable is currently available on Steam, Xbox Store and Xbox Gamepass

(Several Images courtesy Sable Presskit)