There’s so much delightful intrigue to uncover with Cabernet’s core message of monsters being hereditary, a concept that initially seems solely meant to draw parallels between the protagonist’s vampirism and her father’s alcoholism. But Cabernet dares to go deeper with its message, delving into the cyclical nature of humanity’s cruelty to each other, especially regarding the treatment of the lower class, and how society’s many ills are often the result of the new rich inheriting the evils of the old. It all makes for a deeply compelling consequence-driven story where every choice carries the potential to surprise you with terrifying force. Some late-game glitches mar the game’s fantastic conclusion, but even if developer Party for Introverts doesn’t address those issues in post-launch updates, the journey to get to Cabernet’s final hour is an incredible piece of interactive fiction.

A 2D narrative-driven RPG set in 19th century Eastern Europe, Cabernet begins with protagonist Liza’s funeral, as you briefly roleplay as her uncle and give a eulogy that determines the direction of Liza’s life and which skills she specializes in. Control then shifts to Liza as you awake in a dungeon. Unsure of how she got there, Liza makes a pact with an unseen and silent presence for freedom, before finding herself at a party filled with vampires. It quickly becomes apparent that she is now a vampire as well, and this new life comes with a ton of rules, like needing to satiate a constant thirst for blood and staying away from sunlight. But there are immense freedoms associated with the transformation as well, as Liza is empowered with supernatural abilities that allow her to go to places she never could before, get away with acts others are often swiftly arrested for, and pursue passions and love most mortals of her station cannot yet readily do.

In this sense, Liza is a stand-in for the middle class, which was emerging during this period in real-life history. Liza cannot relate to the centuries-old Countess who commands all the vampires in the region and lives in a mansion filled with wealth, nor can she completely empathize with the poor farmer girl who dreams of learning music and bettering herself but must toil away in the fields for hours so her family can eat. But Liza can take small steps into both of their worlds to see their respective trials and tribulations, and although she cannot fundamentally change the relationship between the poor and rich, she is one of the few in town who can affect the lives of people in both social spheres. This setup grounds the otherwise supernatural fantasy in real-world politics, implementing considerations into the story that give even the simplest of choices substantial narrative weight.

There’s something horrifyingly poetic about Liza’s new vampiric station as she must now serve the whims of a wealthy and immortal elite while sustaining herself on the blood of mortals, the easiest of which to feed on are the poor. You can fight against the metaphor by having Liza take time out of her nights to buy bottled blood, but doing so leaves little money left to better Liza’s own lot in life with books and dresses that can boost her skills. For Liza to get ahead at all, she’ll have to feed on people at some point, and Cabernet ensures the wealthiest characters are regularly out of reach of Liza’s fangs.

Cabernet frames this conflict with a morality system that balances Liza’s humanity versus her nihilism. I’m a big fan of the distinction because, unlike a lot of other morality systems, this doesn’t put your choices in a good-versus-evil framework. Though most choices that increase Liza’s humanity are generally moral, they’re not all wholly good. Similarly, while having Liza embrace nihilism is generally a darker route, not all of those choices are wholly evil. For example, feeding on the blood of rabbits to save money or lying to spare someone’s feelings are both nihilistic actions, while preaching to a rebel that they should abandon any and all forms of violence and trust those in power to do what’s right is a humane action. There is some strategy to pushing Liza to be more of one than the other, for as Liza’s humanity and/or nihilism grows, you’ll unlock unique dialogue options with certain characters that allow you to better navigate difficult conversations. But Liza can also unlock unique dialogue options by raising her expertise in specific skills–I opted for a Liza who excelled at understanding art and science but struggled to talk about history or literature–so there are regularly many ways to approach one problem.

Trying to find a solution is most of Cabernet’s gameplay. Liza only has a limited amount of time per night to complete tasks, some of which take up a lot more time than others, so you have to carefully map out and plan a schedule. Though it could be possible to do everything for everyone and complete every optional objective, my experience was that I had to more carefully pick and choose, and the order in which I helped individuals had ramifications too. The pressure of keeping on top of Liza’s job as the town doctor’s assistant and cultivating relationships with the two dozen major characters is further compounded by her need to drink blood. As previously mentioned, you can buy bottled blood, but you’ll find your money quickly drying up on other expenses.

In Cabernet’s lore, vampires must only drink from people they’ve enchanted first, lest humanity learn of their existence, and Liza can only enchant those who trust her. This requires getting to know your would-be victims and, in your most desperate moments, deciding whom you’re willing to feed on. Even though Liza’s victims do not remember what she does to them thanks to the enchantment, the underlying sensation of feeling like they were taken advantage of remains, subconsciously lowering their opinion of Liza and potentially impacting future conversations. To add a dash more excitement (and dread), you cannot see the physical state of Liza’s victim while she’s feeding, only how much blood you’ve taken and how much Liza is enjoying the sensation of the moment as color returns to her face. When you think Liza has had enough, you can command her to stop–take too little and Liza may need to feed on someone else before the week is out, but take too much and the person in question might just die.

There are clear comparisons between vampirism and alcoholism throughout Cabernet, but the game misses the mark in how the mechanics work. Though the game warns you there’s some risk of becoming nothing more than a feral leech and draining and killing someone, I never did. And while the game mandates you keep track of Liza’s blood levels, it feels more like keeping on top of a food meter in a survival game, not confronting and managing an addiction. This doesn’t ruin the gameplay, but it does create a bit of a disconnect in the story as numerous times Liza will be confronted by vampires who warn her of becoming too dependent on blood or lament that this need to feed will negatively impact her relationship with friends and loved ones, but neither ever became an issue. There is an interesting consideration in that overfeeding and making Liza’s blood meter overflow causes the blood meter to deplete faster, so overfilling the meter too often could feasibly make it all but impossible to go even a full night without feeding on someone, but that’s easy to avoid. I could easily get by having Liza only feed once or twice a week, which left a minimal impact on her relationships.

Regardless, it’s the human element of the story that’s the star, not the vampiric one. Cabernet is all about making choices, but its strength exists in the story around those choices. Each scene is captured with a dark vibrancy that resembles paintings of the era, and composer Jim Fowler (Bloodborne, LittleBigPlanet) lends a beautiful gothic mysticism to it all. And almost every major character leaves behind a memorable narrative footprint, thanks in no small part to the superb voice work. The reward in seeing how the individual arcs of Liza’s friends, enemies, and acquaintances can play out is only trumped by the reveals of how each of their stories weaves together, informing the greater narrative and Liza’s place in the world.

One of the first tasks Liza is given is a mission from the Countess: She is asked to befriend either the husband or wife who lives down the road, earn an invitation to their home so that she can cross the threshold, infiltrate the house, steal some documents, and deliver said documents to a handler. It’s up to you whether you have Liza agree to the Countess’ demands and even if she does, how to go about it. Your mark is a couple struggling through severe marital and financial problems–the wife is a talented musician who feels stifled by a husband who demands she be a housewife while he struggles to find his creative groove at the bottom of a vodka bottle. Do you focus on befriending one or both targets? And once you have the invitation, when do you break in? Do you snoop around and steal from your new friends once inside, and do you disobey the Countess’ orders and look through the documents upon finding them? Do you even pass along the documents to the handler or lie that you never found them?

There are quite a few different ways this one mission can end, and it sets the stage for how at least four major characters see Liza going forward, with ramifications I was still dealing with all the way up until the game’s final moments. Cabernet is filled with stories like this, each of which you can choose to pursue or ignore while time marches onward. (Do you promise a girl you’ll save her brother, knowing that he’s across town and the time limit that pops up to let you know when he’ll bleed out is not very long? When a spurned lover asks you to find her former paramour and kill him, do you fulfill her dark desire? Do you help two unhappy people find love again or split them up so you can date and marry one of them?) Every choice I made paid off in some way, and although there were quite a few unexpected surprises and welcome twists, never did the game’s consequences feel unfair or unearned. And when the credits rolled, I sat back immensely satisfied but also eager to replay the game and see how different choices might affect the final outcome.

Cabernet was not a wholly smooth experience, as several late-game glitches made it impossible for Liza to mail letters and complete the last steps of two side quests that I was really hoping to see the conclusion of. Another glitch also soft-locked me during the finale, preventing me from ending a conflict with the incredible persuasive speaking chops Liza had honed over the playthrough. After restarting the mission several times and being unable to progress how I wanted, I restarted again and instead had Liza force her way out of the predicament. It wasn’t how I intended to do things, but it worked and I was able to keep playing and finish the game. These glitches soured the final moments of what had otherwise been my favorite RPG in quite a while, so hopefully, these issues are ironed out with post-launch patches.

Issues aside, Cabernet is an incredible RPG. The concept of comparing vampirism to addiction is nothing new, but framing that storyline within the real-world history of the middle class during the 19th century adds a compelling undercurrent to Liza’s story and the various people she befriends, betrays, and smooches during her struggle to come to grips with her new existence. The consequences of Liza’s actions feel impactful, and seeing each character’s arc all the way through is narratively fulfilling. This is the level of quality that stories about vampires should strive for.