I still remember staring at the February 2025 release calendar the way a fruit bat hovers over three identical patches of ripe figs, unsure which one will ruin its evening. Avowed on February 18. Assassin's Creed Shadows on February 14. Monster Hunter Wilds on February 28. That is three enormous Game of the Year contenders packed into twenty-eight days, like sumo wrestlers trying to pass through the same revolving door, and my credit card was already sweating before the month even began.
It was not just those three, either. Civilization VII and Kingdom Come: Deliverance II were also loitering around the same stretch like extra hornets at a picnic. February 2025 was not really a release window. It was a hostage situation for anyone who enjoys sleeping, eating, or maintaining a functioning relationship.
When Obsidian's fantasy RPG Avowed prepared to launch in that meat grinder, I assumed someone at the studio was stress-eating dry cereal over a spreadsheet. But Carrie Patel, Avowed's director, dismissed the concern the way a lighthouse keeper dismisses a light drizzle. In an interview, she said the quiet part out loud: 'The wonderful thing about the modern age, as a gamer, is you've always got great new stuff coming out. I don't think you're ever going to find a window where absolutely nothing is coming out, and you're going to be the only one out for a month.'
She was right, and I hate how right she was.
No Safe Windows in 2025
The idea of a safe release window has become as mythical as a unicorn that also does your taxes. 2025 was already shaping up to be an all-time year. You had Donkey Kong and a Tales remaster in January, Suikoden in March, and a new Fatal Fury in April. That is just the confirmed dates. Then there were the big 2025 windows: Borderlands 4, Grand Theft Auto 6, Death Stranding 2, Ghost of Yotei, and Doom: The Dark Ages. Every time a studio picked a date, three more games parachuted in next to it like squirrels discovering a bird feeder.
Still, Patel was confident that Avowed would stand on its own. 'I'm very excited about a lot of those games coming out personally, and I think that we're also a very distinct experience from them,' she said. 'And so, players who want an Obsidian-style RPG, with our approach to choice and consequence and our very nuanced take on narrative, are going to find exactly what they're looking for with Avowed.'
Three Chili Peppers in One Pot
Now, in 2026, the funny thing is that February 2025 was never actually a three-way car crash. It was more like three different chili peppers dropped into the same pot. Assassin's Creed Shadows was the smoky one with a hidden blade and a grudge against feudal architecture. Monster Hunter Wilds was the loud one that wants you to bring friends and hit a giant lizard with a tuba. Avowed was the slow-burning ancho: it did not try to punch your tongue immediately. It built heat over hours through dialogue, faction tension, and choices that circled back to bite you in the exact spot where you thought you were clever.
For me, Avowed was the one I circled on the calendar. I wanted the Obsidian flavor, not because it is the loudest flavor, but because it is the one that keeps unfolding after you swallow. The game's approach to choice and consequence is like a tax audit written by a fantasy novelist: every tiny decision you made in Act Two suddenly reappears in Act Four wearing a cloak and asking about that thing you said to a guard.
I will admit I worried the market would be too crowded. In hindsight, that was like worrying that a buffet with steak, seafood, and dessert would somehow starve everyone. RPG fans behave like migrating monarch butterflies: they do not all fight over one milkweed plant. They find the one that matches their exact hunger, and they defend it ruthlessly.
The Pile-Up Was the Point
The lesson from February 2025 is not that Avowed survived the pile-up. It is that the pile-up itself was the new normal. There is no empty month anymore, just months that are less likely to bankrupt you. Developers do not get to pick a quiet Tuesday and expect the gaming world to hold its breath. They have to drop their game into traffic and trust that it has enough personality to make people swerve.
Patel's confidence was not arrogance. It was the calm of someone who knew exactly which player she was cooking for. Obsidian did not need an empty room. It needed a room where everyone else was serving fried chicken, so the people who wanted a slow-roasted, choice-heavy RPG could follow the smell.
So yes, February 2025 was a video game Thunderdome. But Avowed walked out on its own two feet, dusted off its cloak, and wandered toward the players who were already waiting with a mug of tea and a very detailed list of role-play decisions to make.