Lazarrien: A Love Story

There’s something recursive about the Single Choice Jam: because the jam’s constraint requires the player to have only a single moment when they can make a choice, the author’s choice of where that choice should go likewise takes on disproportionate weight. The obvious way to play things is to put it right at the end, so that the player is confronted with a dramatic climax after a comparatively longer build-up, but while this orthodox answer is hard to argue with, it’s also a little bit conventional. So I admit to feeling a bit underwhelmed when I realized that’s probably where Lazarrien: A Love Story was heading – the more so because the central dilemma the game was clearly setting up (try to end the curse on the Dark-Souls-esque fantasy land, or turn away from my quest in favor of the sexy demon with whom the main character has an immediate if underdeveloped rapport) also seemed like one I’d seen before. Happily, though, that meant that I was not at all expecting the way things actually played out, with a late-story twist that reconfigures everything that’s come before while sneakily getting an extra choice into the game while still obeying all the rules.

Admittedly, Lazarrien doesn’t put its best foot forward: stop me if you’ve heard this one before, but an amnesiac knight wakes up in an abandoned crypt, only to find the world is a blasted hellscape and the few survivors tell him he needs to climb to the castle on top of the mountain to set things to rights? Meanwhile, the adjective-heavy prose in the opening section sets a mood, but with visible effort:

"He traced the contours of the dusty shrine, taking in details that seemed familiar in a way he couldn’t place. A painting of a storm-battered mountain. A vase of withered flowers. A blackened ring set with a raw, gnarled garnet. Across the room, a strange statue stood on a plinth. Carved with uncanny precision from dark stone, a fearsome horned man reaching, his claws outstretched.

"…

"As he approached, the music grew louder, richer. He peered around the doorway. In the middle of the cobbled road stood a short woman dressed in an impossibly vibrant array of quilted patchwork, frayed paisley that defied the bleakness of its sky."

Happily, things quickly settle down. The game is structured around a series of encounters with four characters – as well as the aforementioned sexy demon, who’s pursuing you as you climb – and all of them have distinctive voices that nicely break up the more portentous narrative voice. And as the landscape gets more outre, the writing doesn’t feel like it needs to do quite so much work to get its point across – this bit is much more understated, and the more effective for it.

"The city gave way to a field of bramble, scorched rose vines that wove a thicket higher than three men. Thorns scraped against his armor and flesh alike as he rushed past. Crisp gray blossoms crumbled to ash in his wake."

Meanwhile, as the confrontations along the way get away from exposition and more into action, I likewise found the story more compelling. Lazarrien has big-time daddy issues that are familiar in broad strokes, but having a candle-wax effigy of his father shout his disapproval at his fleeing son is an effective way to make them more engaging, and while the inevitable sex scene with the demon may feel like it cuts to the chase oddly quickly, there’s an in-story reason for that.

So as I said, my opinion was trending positive when I hit the decision-point and the twist that immediately follows it. I won’t spoil that, but I’ll just say that if you think you’ve played a version of this game before, think again – it’s definitely worth following this journey to its destination at least once. More spoilery thoughts – largely gushing – are in the blurry-text below.

(Spoiler - click to show)So having the big choice of whether to be a loser and kill Agramith, or spare him and try to escape the curse some other way, wind up completely irrelevant to the actual nature of the trial is inspired – it made me literally cackle aloud, and I adored the fast-talking demoness who rolls her eyes at how dense you’ve been on this, your umpteenth time failing the challenge. Admittedly, I’m not sure this late turn into comedy fits completely smoothly with what comes before (in retrospect, it makes Agramith’s slide into the abyss feel even more slapstick – and also, Lazarrien, buddy, if you get told you need to bring the demon, your sword, and a ring to the castle, and you’ve screwed up a million times before, and there’s a giant pile of swords but not a single ring to be found, maybe put the ring first on the list of stuff you’re trying to remember, not last???) There’s still some pathos in Lazarrien’s plight, however, especially since the twist of course made me curious to replay and see how things differ when you encounter the characters in a different order – or see if there’s an invisible link that allows you to actually take the ring when you find it. Going through the same steps time after time, always hoping to find a better ending but always returning to the same place, put me in the shoes of the protagonist in a way a lot of eternal-recurrence stories struggle to achieve. The timed text does make replays a little slower than I’d like, but there is a satisfying level of variation, making the choice of whether to start over as, if not more, significant than whether you kill Agramith or allow him to fall to his doom, which is a clever subversion of the Jam’s constraints.

Adapted from a Review-A-Thon 25 Review

Style: (single) Choice-select
Played : 7/15/25
Playtime: 20m, one playthrough

Fantasy hero awakens with patchy memory and vaguely defined quest - a well-trodden premise, no? This is a one-choice game that does a lot to make you forget you’ve seen this before. For one, it operates in a dreamy unreality where the challenges and tasks feel simultaneously metaphoric, mythic and immediate. It accomplishes this with its prose that I ultimately found to be successful, but not unambiguously so. Moment by moment there were phrases and passages that felt more showy than impactful. Reaching just far enough that the strain was felt. But. Those passages also accumulated over time to create a specific vibe to the thing, one that sang cleanly off its ending in a really cool way. Whether this crests from “on balance good” to “completely justifies its excesses” is a nuanced line I’m just going to leave as an exercise to the player. I found it to be AT MINIMUM the former. Which, if you are familiar with my biases on this score, is no mean feat.

A less ambiguously successful element is the NPC population and our protagonist’s journey with them. A flighty but insightful “bard,” a priestess being reclaimed by the forest, a horrific wax king (a true highlight to the work), and a pursuing demon. I found all of these NPCs to be compellingly imagined, hinting to metaphor and meaning beyond their physical presence but also oh so physically PRESENT. They showcased the fantastical creativity alive in our most beloved fantasy properties and are the overriding strength of the work.

The other major strength of the work was its plot conceits and turns. Which I’m going to endeavor not to spoil. As our amnesiac protagonist progresses, more of their situation is revealed (as is de rigueur for these kinds of things), which ends up being truly surprising. Perhaps more of it is dispensed in a final info dump than I might prefer, but honestly the twist itself is interesting enough (and resonant enough with the work’s not-quite-overwrought vibe) that that is easily forgiven. What felt metaphoric, mythic is both acknowledged and justified in a very satisfying way. The portentous (Spoiler - click to show)room of swords is an amazing image that totally sells the final twist. It is the kind of work whose immediate details sometimes ring hollow or unconvincing (not enough time to remember? emotionality asserted but not felt?) but whose final twist contextualizes those disconnects into a specific kind of mythology.

Notwithstanding all the moaning I’ve stitched into the above paragraphs, by the work’s end all those quibbles were kind of moot and immaterial. Its overriding plot engine, and the wonderful characters that populate it to that point compensate and justify all of it in a very satisfying way.

There is one quibble I have that was not so easily dismissed. The interactivity. It was billed as a one-choice work, in service of a Jam of that theme. One choice works have a unique challenge. As a percentage of the choices available to the player, a HUGE amount of weight is placed on that choice. Here, that one choice is kind of… (Spoiler - click to show)immaterial? The narrative makes quite clear what the impact of the untaken choice is, to the point there is no real need to revisit it. It is effectively a (Spoiler - click to show)no-choice narrative masquerading as something else. This is perfectly aligned with the narrative theme of the game, by the way. This artifact reinforces the tragedy of the piece. I am at a loss to envision a better one-choice this particular work might proffer. What I question is, does the one choice ADD to the narrative in a meaningful way? I’m not so sure. In compliance with the Jam’s rules, the player has no agency up to that point, so it is not really a question of playing with player initiative. It is a choice that reinforces the theme of the piece, but whose ACT OF CHOOSING doesn’t really register as meaningful, either in the moment or certainly in retrospect.

Look, Jam games have their specific rules. Sometimes these rules breed unexpected creativity and resonance. Other times, you get a really cool story, well rendered, that is not necessarily showcasing its constraints. Does that make the work lesser? Not even a little bit.

As a newcomer to the community, this is my very first time reviewing a work of interactive fiction. I stumbled across this game from a couple other reviews over on the IF community forum. I do not think there could've been a better work to introduce me to the media as a whole, being a queer tragic fantasy enjoyer. If you have not played it yet, I recommend not viewing the spoilers.

The story follows the titular knight Lazarrien on his journey across a cursed land. A journey with the purpose to lift aforementioned curse. Though a single playthrough is short, with my first one lasting roughly 15 minutes, it is a wholly satisfying experience that does not leave me feeling like there is something missing. Additional playthroughs only enhance this experience.

Lifting the curse, is of course, a Fool's errand. This is deliberate phrasing on my part, as the knight, along with the other characters, bear resemblance (or are direct parallels) to the Major Arcana. I personally quite like Tarot allegories, so this was right up my forte.

It is however, also a Fool's errand in the more literal sense. You can never truly lift the curse. (Spoiler - click to show)Lazarrien is forced to redo the trial over and over again. Forgetting the most crucial detail about the trial every single time. You as the player have no influence on this. You do not even have influence over what order you meet the four other characters in. This creates emotional value for replaying the story. And even though (Spoiler - click to show)I so desperately wish I could make Lazarrien remember to bring the ring, I feel adding a "good ending" would undermine the game in the end.

All in all, I loved this. I could talk about the emotional impact it had on me (I haven't touched on the love story part!), but this review is already getting quite lengthy. If you're looking for a short, but satisfying and emotional experience, take half an hour of your time and give it a try.

Lazarrien is a fantasy story that follows the eponymous knight journeying through cursed land, as he attempts to recover his memory, particularly why he roaming these lands, and what he has to do with the curse. During his travels, he meets a child, a priestess, a musician and a king – the order differing per playthrough – each, he finds, having a link to him and each other. And a demon, trailing behind him, never approaching until the ultimate hour.

For most of the story, I struggled to see what made it a love story. None of the characters on Lazarrien’s path display romantic feelings towards him, some being far from friendly, and one even hunting him. So how does it even relate to love? Is our knight going to love himself and change his fate? Will we find one of the aforementioned characters at the end, because it turns out they fell in love with the knight? Or will he turn back, return to one of them, and damn the curse and the quest? Is Lazarrien going to find a happy ending?

I think I should have known from the start it was going to be more tragic – my first playthrough started with the priestess, who warned me of sins that unravelled the world. And what better sin than forbidden love, the one that cannot be, the one you fight against and for regardless, the one that never ends well.
Lazarrien’s reticence to accept his feelings in that fateful meeting changed everything, about who he was, what he was trying to do, the meaning of the others’ words, and ultimately, what I thought I would choose when faced with the curse. I’m a sucker for love, even if I can see its end a mile away. His change within gave me hope – how he describes his body, how his true words escape his mouth without realising, tout semblant comme une évidence – you want to hope for him, that things will work out, that he could get his cake and eat it too.

So, when faced with that single choice, I did not hesitate once. I didn’t consider the other option to be an option either. I think Lazarrien would not suppress his feeling – the morning after’s regret told me so. I hung to that hope, even with the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that this was a love story, not a happy ending story. There was no surprise when it happened, for tragedy always makes its entrance when you want it the least: so close to your goal you can taste it.

But there was still a glimmer of hope, even when we were past the eleventh hour, even as I was grieving what I wished would be, when all the pieces finally fit and the picture was complete… There was a way, she said. Things might be different if we’d go back to the start. If we’d tried again. Lazarrien had done so many times before, but maybe this time will be the right one. I could go back to the start and lift the curse. I just need to remember the—

Having enjoyed Radiance Inviolate a great deal, I played and rated Lazarrien last month, but I thought I might write some words about it now. It has only one review at the moment!

I’ve said–somewhere–that that I enjoy the “adjectival opulence” of DemonApologist’s prose. It feels lush and indulgent without ever overdoing things. It has the savor of smoke, salt, and a bit of fat. The initial setup of Lazarrien reminds me of a more darkly-inclined William Morris story, if only Morris were a better writer. I should qualify myself. What feels like Morris are its grounded assertions of otherworldly types. Tarot archetypes for instance, or clothing-as-signifiers. The whole work feels drunk with significance.

“Drunk” is a fine word in this case, as protagonist Lazzien is as confused as we are by the horrors of a land under an unnamed and unexplained curse. As in allegory, our protagonist stumbles through a world of symbols.

Even without choices, the mystery of the world will pull many of us through. We learn more, but not enough. Information is artfully drip-fed. Others know us, even though we do not know them. Lazarrian is a lousy son, it seems, and a musical–witch? is it a witch?–finds us amusing. A High Priestess, straight out of tarot, is frozen solid. Are we the Fool, then?

(Spoiler - click to show)Mystery compounds upon mystery when we learn that Lazarrien is the lover of demon Agramith. We thought he was stalking us! Our only choice looms: spare Agramith, or sacrifice him before castle?

The choice doesn’t matter much programmatically, but it does matter. The zinger here is as good as any Twilight Zone episode (I am a Twilight Zone superfan): Lazarrien is playing a game to free Agramith, a prince of hell. The game? Reaching the castle with a ring, a sword, and Agramith. Player Lazarrien can choose various factors for his “run.” This is a sort of roguelike game. In the other room: a mountain of swords stories high, one for each failed attempt.

This a good story. It’s just really good. There’s a very clever self-awareness with the roguelike backgrounding. </spolier>I feel Lazarrien draws from a number of sources and uses them effectively to weave a surprising and satisfying tale.

This is a short game with a lot of depth, and one of my favorites in the 2024 Short Games Showcase. It starts with a classic “protagonist wakes up with amnesia” conceit, but not as an excuse for having a second-person AFGNCAAP protagonist; this MC is a specific character, a knight named Lazarrien, and his story is told in third-person past tense. We don’t play as him, but we share his disorientation as both he and we work to piece together his backstory and what’s happened to wreck the land around him.

The latter is depicted with vivid imagery—a field of burning roses, hills made of wax; evocatively described devastation. And through a series of encounters with NPCs, our hero gains a sense of purpose: to break the curse that’s caused all this. We follow Lazarrien as he makes his way toward the mountain peak where the solution apparently lies, with a demon in slow but steady pursuit. As he draws closer to his goal, the straightforward narrative he’s been given is slowly called into question. The story starts with uncertainty, then provides clarity, only to make us and Lazarrien question it.

This game was written for the Single-Choice jam, the conceit of which is that there can only be one point in the story where the player is given a choice between multiple options. Lazarrien builds to that choice and gives it momentous-feeling weight, letting the player decide whether Lazarrien will continue to doggedly pursue his mission at all costs, or whether a new desire has supplanted that. (Spoiler - click to show)However, the game then quickly subverts the importance of that choice, revealing that both options ultimately lead to the same result—which doesn't at all undercut the choice’s emotional impact.

The ending finally reveals the full truth of what’s going on, but even beyond that there’s one more layer to the game that I didn’t discover until I replayed it to write this review. Which path you’ll take through the story is randomized every time you start a new playthrough; it’s possible for you to encounter each of four NPCs in any order. And this is cool not only because it means you’ll see a slightly different story on a replay, but also because it’s diegetic: the story’s ending reveals that Lazarrien is undergoing a trial, for which he’s allowed endless attempts (although his memory is wiped at the beginning of each), and the only thing that might change each time is the order of the encounters.

In a different game, this could be a setup for players to try again and eventually succeed—but here, it’s made very clear that Lazarrien will never pass the trial. Players can repeat the game over and over, seeing the different iterations of the encounters, but no matter what choice you make at that single choice point, there’s only ever one ending—he fails. And this feels fitting; I’ve avoided stating the one big spoiler, but I will note that the subtitle is “A Love Story”. Lazarrien is repeating this endless, doomed cycle for love—what could be more romantic than that? (Here I will break my big-spoiler avoidance to add: (Spoiler - click to show)Especially when, in addition to being an outright queer story with the m/m romance, there are queer resonances to the “forbidden love” aspect, such as Lazarrien’s father decrying him as a sinner for loving a demon.)

The fatalistic ending does clash a bit with the fact that the game rewards replays; I’m typically a big replayer, but after my first playthrough of Lazarrien, having made my preferred choice and then seeing that it didn’t ultimately matter, I didn’t feel a need to play again. But after I replayed the other day and discovered the trick, I found it a cool design choice as a way to maintain the linearity but still give the player a fresh experience. I just think there needs to be a little more of an incentive to replay (maybe instead of the ending going back to the title screen, the game starts again automatically?).

All in all, I found it an excellent work of IF. As a bonus to everything I discussed above, it’s also presented stylishly, with a nice layout of the text and good use of color (I would just up the contrast of the brownish text a bit). I very much look forward to future work by DemonApologist!