I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit wandering the Living Lands in Avowed. Since Obsidian Entertainment’s first-person RPG launched, I’ve rebuilt characters, respecced companions, and filled my stash with what feels like every piece of adra, wood, and monster part in existence. Now, in 2026, I can say the gear upgrade system is still one of the most interesting—and most fragile—parts of the experience. Obsidian was not shy about revealing how upgrades work before release, and that transparency was welcome. But the real test was always going to be whether every upgrade felt worthwhile. The answer, even after patches and community feedback, depends entirely on a delicate balance between material abundance, material rarity, and how long an upgraded weapon or armor piece stays relevant.

The Hoarding Instinct Is Real 🎒
Every RPG with a crafting system trains me to hoard. I pick up every herb, every ore, every glowing crystal. I tell myself I’ll use them later. Later rarely comes. In Avowed, the same temptation exists. Common materials are easy enough to find, but rare upgrade materials make me pause. What if I need them for a legendary weapon? What if a better armor piece is waiting in the next region? That uncertainty is exactly the pitfall the reference discussion warned about. If the risk and security of spending materials are not clearly defined, players will sit on their stockpile until the final boss is dead and the credits are rolling. Then they dismantle or sell the gear they could have enjoyed for dozens of hours. I have done this in other RPGs, and I have caught myself doing it in Avowed too. The fix is not simply more materials. The fix is confidence. I need to know that spending a rare material now will not lock me out of a better choice later. Clear tooltips, visible upgrade paths, and honest previews can reduce that anxiety. When I trust the system, I engage with it. When I distrust it, I become a dragon sitting on a pile of unused ore.
Abundance Versus Reward ⚖️
Filling the world with upgrade materials sounds like a simple fix. If I can always find more, I will spend more. But there is a cost. Rare materials lose their thrill. Finding a unique upgrade component should feel like a mini-victory, not another piece of junk to vendor. On the other hand, if rare materials are too scarce, I will save them for a hypothetical future item instead of improving the gear I actually use. That is the trap. Avowed needs a middle path. Common materials should flow steadily enough to support regular upgrades. Rare materials should be scarce enough to matter, but not so rare that they become museum pieces in my inventory. The best crafting systems make me feel clever, not paranoid. They give me enough to experiment, but not so much that every choice is meaningless.
| Material Tier 💎 | My 2026 Experience | Ideal Balance |
|---|---|---|
| Common | Plentiful, almost too easy to ignore | Should support early and mid-game upgrades without stress |
| Rare | Tempting to hoard for a rainy day | Should be limited but tied to meaningful power spikes |
| Currency | Often spent on companions or respecs | Should not compete so hard that upgrades feel punishing |
Upgrades Must Outlast the Next Chest ⚔️
The biggest pain in any gear-driven RPG is spending a fortune on an upgrade only to find a better base weapon in the next dungeon. Avowed is not Diablo. It is not built around a constant shower of loot. That means its upgrade system carries more weight. If I invest materials and currency into a weapon, that weapon should carry its weight. It should be objectively better than anything I find soon after. Otherwise, I learn to stop upgrading. I learn to wait. I learn to treat every crafting bench as a trap. Diablo can get away with constant replacement because loot is the entire point. Avowed is different. Its identity is exploration, story, and choice. Upgrades should feel like milestones, not temporary buffs. When I improve a blade in Avowed, I want to remember the moment. I want to feel the power spike in the next fight. I want the weapon to remain my companion through several quests, not just one hallway.
This does not mean Avowed should never give me better gear. It means progression should be patient. A new region can offer sidegrades, unique effects, or gear that fills a different role. But it should not instantly invalidate the weapon I just spent hours improving. That is the difference between a rewarding upgrade system and a frustrating one. When upgrades last, I experiment. I invest. I feel attached to my loadout. When upgrades are replaced too quickly, I disengage. The crafting bench becomes a chore, not a choice.
Why This Still Matters in 2026 🛡️
Avowed is not necessarily centered around gear and loot. Its story, companions, and exploration carry much of the experience. But the presence of an upgrade system suggests at least some emphasis on what I wear and fight with. That emphasis is a promise. It promises that my choices at the crafting bench matter. It promises that the Living Lands will reward my curiosity with materials that are both abundant enough to use and rare enough to treasure. It promises that each upgrade will last long enough to justify the cost.
After a year of play, I still believe Avowed’s gear upgrade system lives or dies on that balance. When it works, I feel like a scavenger-turned-hero, turning junk into a legendary blade. When it fails, I feel like an accountant with a sword, calculating whether every adra is worth spending. The best version of Avowed is the one where every upgrade is worthwhile, every rare material is a genuine reward, and every weapon I improve remains my trusted companion for more than a single dungeon. That is the standard I hold it to in 2026, and it is the standard every RPG with a crafting bench should chase.