Haeven

Haeven is a turn-based Japanese-style RPG (JRPG) developed by Cleril Calamity Studios, released for Windows on August 5, 2016. The game features a diagonal-down perspective and direct control mechanics, leveraging the RPG Maker engine to deliver a classic role-playing experience centered on exploration, combat, and character-driven storytelling.

Haeven: Review

Introduction

In the ever-expanding landscape of independent RPGs, few titles dare to venture into the surreal corridors of the human psyche. Haeven, a 2016 release from Cleril Calamity Studios, stands as a bold, unorthodox experiment—a turn-based JRPG that transplants players directly into the fractured mind of its creator, Cleril the insane poet. This ambitious premise promises a deeply introspective journey, blending psychological horror with existential philosophy. Yet, does this high-concept vision translate into a cohesive gameplay experience, or does it remain a fascinating, albeit flawed, curio? Drawing from its development, narrative, mechanics, and reception, this review argues that Haeven is a game of striking artistic merit and profound thematic depth, ultimately constrained by technical limitations and design inconsistencies that prevent it from realizing its full potential. It is a testament to indie creativity, a flawed masterpiece that lingers in the mind long after its conclusion.

Development History & Context

Developed single-handedly by Cleril Calamity Studios and published via Steam on August 5, 2016, Haeven emerged from the fertile ground of the mid-2010s indie RPG renaissance. This era saw RPG Maker—a historically maligned engine—garner critical acclaim for titles like Undertale and Lisa: The Painful, proving that constrained tools could yield profound storytelling. Cleril leveraged RPG Maker’s versatility to craft a deeply personal narrative, eschewing commercial pressures for a singular vision. The game’s development was fueled by a desire to explore mental illness and determinism, with Cleril explicitly aiming to translate abstract psychological concepts into tangible gameplay.

Technically, the engine imposed significant limitations. Haeven inherits RPG Maker’s signature diagonal-down perspective and tile-based aesthetics, which Cleril mitigated through custom hand-drawn sprites, animations, and environmental art. The soundtrack, spanning from delicate piano melodies to abrasive hard rock (with “wub-wub” for good measure), was a deliberate stylistic choice to reflect the mind’s chaotic duality. Released for Windows with minimal system requirements, Haeven targeted players seeking narrative-driven, art-centric experiences—a demographic starved for unconventional themes in an industry dominated by AAA spectacle. Its arrival was a quiet, niche event, yet its premise marked it as a cult-in-waiting.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Haeven’s narrative is a surreal odyssey into self-destruction and survival. Players embody Cleril, an insane poet confined in a physical prison, who retreats into his own mind to escape reality. This internal sanctuary, “Haeven,” is a floating island paradise—green fields, wispy clouds, and giant, watchful eyes etched into the earth. Yet, Cleril’s latest metaphysical journey goes awry. Instead of Haeven, he awakens in a desolate realm: a purgatory for abandoned ideas, populated by “inklings”—manifestations of repressed thoughts ranging from playful infants to grotesque abominations. Here, he must ally with his own fractured psyche represented by alters: The Jester (humor), The Bookkeeper (memory), and the exiled The Flirt (sexuality), to battle his oppressive subconscious and reclaim control.

The plot unfolds through dungeon-crawling expeditions into personified mental domains—the Hippocampus (a library of floating books), the Ego (an empty stage), and more. Cleril’s goal is existential: to break free from determinism and assert his free will, or succumb to the chaos of his own mind. Thematically, the game interrogates the cost of sanity. Cleril’s “sanity” and “ink” (mana) resources underscore this internal war—every action risks fracturing his psyche further. Mature themes permeate the narrative: references to cannibalism suggest self-destruction, while The Flirt’s banishment hints at Cleril’s repression. The HonestGamers review notes the narrative’s strength lies in its ambiguity, with quests hinting at Cleril’s long history of mental erosion. Yet, this ambition is undermined by gaps; unfinished side-quests and abrupt transitions reflect the game’s development constraints, leaving the psychological tapestry frayed at the edges.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

Haeven’s core loop blends traditional JRPG elements with cerebral puzzle-solving and resource management. Turn-based combat is the primary focus, but it eschews standard RPG tropes. Health and mana are replaced with “sanity” and “ink,” forcing players to balance aggression against mental stability. Cleril and his alters—each with unique skill trees—form a party. The Jester unleashes area-of-effect attacks at the cost of his sanity; The Bookkeeper can “bookmark” battle states to revisit, enabling strategic reversals. Combat is designed as a puzzle: some enemies require specific tactics (e.g., pacifying vs. eliminating), while others are environmental hazards.

Exploration, however, reveals the game’s structural fragility. Dungeons are visually distinct but mechanically repetitive—climbing, platforming, and solving light puzzles dominate, with sparse enemy encounters. The HonestGamers review highlights a critical flaw: a post-battle screen that dispenses “gold” despite its irrelevance, a remnant of RPG Maker’s template that shatters immersion. Additionally, quest design is inconsistent; some objectives are hinted at but missing (e.g., a quest prompt stating, “Go away, press guy; this side quest isn’t ready”). The five-hour runtime feels both merciful and underwhelming, as the game’s ambition outpaces its content. While the skill trees offer strategic depth, they feel underutilized in a world that feels vast yet empty.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Haeven’s world is its crowning achievement—a breathtaking fusion of surrealism and psychological symbolism. Cleril’s mindscapes are rendered in vibrant, hand-drawn detail. The Hippocampus resembles a library where books float like islands; the Ego is a grand, empty stage reflecting Cleril’s fractured identity. The “giant brown eyes” embedded in landscapes (as noted in HonestGamers) serve as an unnerving motif, suggesting surveillance and self-obsession. Enemy designs—from skittering inklings to scythe-wielding reapers—are grotesque yet poetic, embodying the chaos of a mind in turmoil.

The art direction amplifies the narrative’s themes. Warm, pastel hues dominate Haeven, contrasting with the desaturated, oppressive tones of the inkling realm. This visual duality mirrors Cleril’s struggle between escapism and reality. The soundtrack, composed by Cleril, is equally evocative. Ethereal piano melodies underscore quiet exploration, while discordant industrial tracks escalate during boss fights. The inclusion of “wub-wub” (a dubstep element) injects modernity, reflecting the mind’s collision of chaos and order. Sound design is minimalist yet effective, with ambient whispers and clanging chains enhancing the atmosphere. Despite RPG Maker’s constraints, Haeven’s art and sound create an immersive, unforgettable aesthetic.

Reception & Legacy

Haeven’s reception was a study in contrasts. On Steam, it holds a “Mixed” rating (64% positive from 48 reviews), with players praising its artistry and ambition but criticizing its rough edges. The HonestGamers review commends its “wealth of options” and cerebral approach, noting, “you’re left to figure it out as you go along.” However, it lambastes the “ragged edges”—unfinished quests, technical glitches, and immersion-breaking UI elements. Steam user reviews echo this dichotomy; one lauds its “lovely story” and “fantastic music,” while another dismisses it as “boring” and “cringy.”

Commercially, Haeven was a niche success, finding its audience among fans of experimental RPGs. Its legacy is twofold: as a cult classic that inspired discussions on mental health in games, and as a cautionary tale about overambition without polish. While it lacks the industry influence of Undertale or Catherine, it remains a touchstone for developers exploring psychological themes. The game’s Mature Content Descriptor (references to cannibalism) also sparked conversations about mature narratives in indie spaces. In hindsight, Haeven is remembered not as a perfect game, but as a brave one—a flawed vessel for an unforgettable journey into the human mind.

Conclusion

Haeven is a game of audacious vision and profound artistic integrity. It succeeds brilliantly in its core mission: to translate the chaos of the psyche into a playable, visually stunning experience. Its hand-drawn art, evocative soundtrack, and existential narrative create a world that is as beautiful as it is haunting. The themes of determinism and free will resonate deeply, offering a meditation on the fragility of sanity. Yet, its technical limitations—rooted in RPG Maker’s constraints and Cleril’s solo development—prevent it from achieving greatness. The clunky UI, unfinished quests, and repetitive exploration act as constant reminders of the gap between ambition and execution.

Ultimately, Haeven is a flawed masterpiece. It is not for everyone; its pacing and mechanics may frustrate players seeking traditional RPG polish. But for those willing to embrace its imperfections, it offers an unforgettable journey—a testament to the power of indie games to tackle the darkest corners of the human experience. In the annals of video game history, Haeven stands as a bold, vulnerable, and deeply human artifact—a game that dares to ask whether the mind can ever truly be its own haven, and in doing so, leaves an indelible mark on those who dare to explore it.