I have long suffered from RPG FOMO. It’s a debilitating condition that causes me to question every choice I make in roleplaying games. My selected spells, skills, and methods may “work” in the moment, but then I’ll hear about some incredible solution another player found that leaves me feeling inadequate.
I've tried to curb this affliction before: Nearly 20 years ago I began my Elder Scrolls 4: Oblivion adventure as an Orc Barbarian named Smashfist the Plunderful. Through him, I was determined to embrace the core pleasures of smashing and plundering rather than worrying about the endless possibilities. Life was good.
Then I came to “Whodunit?” This Dark Brotherhood quest tasks you with entering a locked mansion populated by five people looking for a hidden treasure. Only you know they have all been marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood. Though the Brotherhood will reward you if you murder everyone without them suspecting it was you, they’re otherwise not concerned with the particulars. They just want Nels the Naughty, Dovesi Dran, Neville, Primo Antonius, and Matilde Petit to die.
The sudden freedom filled me with dread. I couldn’t help but dream of morphing into the Agent 47 of Cyrodiil, if only for one dark and stormy night. But I was merely Smashfist. If murder is an art, Smashfist finger-painted with blood. He lacked the charisma, spells, and skills required to subtly eliminate Summitmist Manor’s doomed guests. So, I resigned myself to being a blunt instrument in a complex world. When Matilde Petit asked who I was, I told her, “I am an assassin, hired to kill you,” and prepared to shatter this subterfuge with the business end of my warhammer.
But that didn’t happen. Matilde just laughed and instantly grew fond of the charming newcomer with the bloodstained fists.
That’s the moment I fell in love. No, not with Matilde. She turned out to be a masquerading aristocrat with as little wealth as common sense. Rather, that’s the moment I fell in love with the concept of the quest, which would turn out to be a standout not just in Oblivion, but in the history of Bethesda's RPGs. I'd looked at it through the lens of the things I couldn’t do and saw it as a stealth mission. It wasn’t that. At least it didn’t have to be. I wasn’t in their murder mystery; they were in my slasher film.
It started with poor Matilde. Using her misguided fondness for me, I convinced her to go to the basement and search for the treasure together. There she learned the meaning of the Smashfist family motto: Si Splendet, Meum Est (“If it shines, it’s mine”). Upstairs, the other guests were somehow aware that Matilde had been murdered but did not see me as a suspect.
That bizarre blend of omniscience and ignorance makes Oblivion’s NPCs wonderful murder mystery victims. They are aware enough to play along but not so aware that they’re above finding a body, gasping, and then pacing the floor like they’re trying to solve the case through interpretive dance. They’re players in your community theater production of "And Then There Were None." Their acting is atrocious and everyone is running around erratically, but I’ll be damned if we’re not all having a good time "Yes, anding" with some great material.
Dovesi Dran was the next to die. When she asked me for words of comfort and I chose not to give her any, she made the rather odd decision to hide in the basement, now formally known as the crime scene, and stare at the corner, Blair Witch style. It turns out shooting fish in a barrel is a good time, actually, when the fish is dumb enough to jump right into the barrel by itself.
Alternatively, I could have convinced Dovesi that Primo wants to meet her in a secluded upstairs bedroom. It’s one of the many interactions between the guests you can discover and exploit. They are so eager to betray each other as you conduct your symphony of slaughter. Sadly, many of those interactions require a silver tongue. I only brought iron fists.
Back upstairs, I was horrified to learn that the nobleman Primo Antonius was not only suspicious of me but referred to me as a worthless peasant. Though I was certainly a peasant and undeniably a murderer, "worthless" was a baseless insult. I'd pickpocketed loads of gold by that point. I followed him to a quiet room and knocked him a few rungs down the social ladder the hard way.
That’s the beauty of the improvisational freedom this quest encourages. It isn’t a stealth mission or a linear winner55 showcase of the clever character interactions the writers dreamed up. You don’t have to stick to your initial plan, and you can mix and match whatever options you can get away with. There are no fail states, only happy accidents.
Unfortunately that's where my plans fell apart: Primo wasn’t quite as isolated as I’d hoped. The cruelly armed Redguard, Neville (who brings a u31 weapon to a party?), caught me in the act and charged at me. His one hit point afforded him more courage than sense.
Yes, the guests in Whodunit? are comically easy to kill. A single blow fells them, and they are often hilariously wrong in their suspicions. They won’t even believe you’re an assassin if you wear your Dark Brotherhood uniform and introduce yourself as one. The quest is closer to being a playground than a logic puzzle. If it were part of a proper immersive sim, that would be a problem.
Instead, Whodunit? is a lone quest in an optional questline far removed from the main campaign. It plays on the roleplaying decisions you’ve made thus far but encourages you to experiment with new options within the unique confines of a cozy murder mystery. Great roleplaying games convince you that anything can happen, even when logic tells you the possibilities are, naturally, limited. Whodunnit? achieves that from the moment you take the job to the moment you decide how to dispose of the last guest.
Credit: SilverSoju on YouTube
Nels ended up being my “final girl." I liked Nels most. He was quick with a joke, generous with his pours, and was the first to realize one of us was an assassin. I respected him for that. I caved his chest in, but don’t mistake a shattered sternum for a lack of respect.
I’ve revisited Whodunit? many times over the years, most recently during my playthrough of Oblivion Remastered. Each time my RPG FOMO has sent me searching for new solutions. I’ve planted poison apples in the guests’ pockets, bribed them to do my bidding only to get my refund from their corpses, and used magic and charm to turn them against each other. I have never been disappointed by the clever ways players have solved this locked room immersive sim.
None of them have been more satisfying than what Smashfist and I accomplished that first time, though. That’s not nostalgia talking: It was my favorite path through the quest because it was entirely mine.
Modern gaming culture’s meta guides, optimal builds, and tier lists can strangle the joy of discovering your own dumb path. “Whodunit?” is flexible enough to be the antithesis of all that. It’s a sandbox designed to organically encourage chaotic creativity. There are no cutscenes forcing drama or timers pushing tension. It doesn’t demand the perfect murder; it celebrates the perfect mess. Though part of me will always worry about the choices I missed out on, Whodunit? taught me that my favorite RPG stories are the ones I make myself.
