Game Review: The Pawn

One of the Amiga titles that has stayed with me for decades — despite being 35 years old — is The Pawn. Originally developed and published for the Sinclair QL in 1985, this text-only adventure was written by Rob Steggles at Magnetic Scrolls. It quickly gained attention for its sharp wit and its playful send-up of a well-established — and by then somewhat stale — genre.

Text adventures were hugely popular at the time (as I’ve touched on in my articles about Zork and A Mind Forever Voyaging), but technology was moving fast, and players were beginning to expect more than pure text.

After Magnetic Scrolls secured a publishing deal with Rainbird, a graphical version of The Pawn was produced for several additional platforms. These included the Amstrad CPC, Amstrad PCW, Apple II, Archimedes, Atari ST, Atari 8-bit, Commodore 64, MS-DOS, Macintosh, ZX Spectrum — and, of course, the Amiga version we’re looking at today, which was released in 1986.

I never experienced The Pawn on any platform other than the Amiga, but what truly stood out on the Miggy was how it blended classic text adventure gameplay with beautifully illustrated visuals. With a simple drag of the screen downward, the text would give way to stunning, carefully crafted artwork.

It felt like getting the best of both worlds — the depth and imagination of a traditional text adventure, enhanced by visuals that added atmosphere and immersion. That seamless combination played a big part in making the Amiga version feel special, and undoubtedly contributed to the game’s overall success.

For those who have never played The Pawn or even heard of it, here’s a brief recap of the story.

You awaken in the fairy-tale land of Kerovnia with a silver bracelet locked around your wrist — one that cannot be removed. After a short but intense encounter with the sorcerer Kronos, your journey truly begins as you set out across the realm in search of answers. You’re a stranger from our own timeline, with no understanding of how you arrived there — or what it will take to return home.

Meanwhile, Kerovnia is on the brink of political upheaval. A general election is imminent, determining whether King Erik will remain on the throne or be replaced by a dwarf whose rather bold campaign promise is to “rid dungeons of mazes of any sort.”

It’s absurd, witty, and wonderfully British in tone — and that’s only the beginning.

As with many other adventures of the time, the point was to interact with other characters and perform tasks for them, collecting objects that will be needed for later tasks in order to escape from your “prison” and win the game. What was special about this title though, is that it was full of humor (British humor, that is…) in a way similar to Infocom’s ones, but the entire purpose of it was actually making fun of a genre that was becoming way too similar to itself with no innovation or whatsoever.

One of the best examples of the game’s tongue-in-cheek humor is the sign you can stumble upon that reads, “The maze you are about to enter is totally irrelevant to the adventure.” Brilliant. You can even choose to abandon the sweet Princess to her fate instead of rescuing her. It’s that kind of mischievous, self-aware writing that makes the whole experience so memorable.

The Amiga version also came with a few welcome extras. There’s a short piece of opening music to set the mood, and you can enable speech on the fly, allowing the built-in voice synthesizer to read the text aloud instead of forcing you to scroll through endless paragraphs. At the time, that felt incredibly advanced and added even more personality to the game.

Over the years, The Pawn has earned its place as a true classic — and rightly so. If you haven’t played it yet, I strongly recommend tracking down a copy. Be warned, though: it’s challenging. We’re not quite used to these old-school mechanics anymore, and it’s a lengthy adventure that demands patience and attention.

Still, if you stick with it, you’re in for a great time.

And remember: The Guru is watching you!