Diese Rezension ist noch nicht übersetzt — wir zeigen das Original (English).
Sometimes all it takes is one room, a handful of characters, and a heap of lies. Sleuth from 1983 proves it — a computer adaptation of Michael Cooke's famous game, where two players become detectives in an English drawing room game full of suspicion. There's no action, no graphics, no sound effects. Just text, questions, and trying to figure out who actually stole the diamond.

The game works as a set of questions and answers. One player picks a character who is the culprit — the detective on the other side then tries to nail them with logical questions. They spend time investigating, gathering clues, taking notes on who lied when. The goal is to expose the liar and win by revealing the right answer. It's an intellectual game where every sentence the computer delivers can mean a breakthrough in the investigation — or even more confusion.
Today it might sound tedious. Typing, waiting, repeating procedures. But if you play it against a real opponent over the network or taking turns at one machine, it changes everything. You remember the first lie. You recognize when your opponent improvises. You laugh at absurd characters and their failed attempts at logic. Sleuth isn't about how good the computer AI is — it's about how well you can lie and how well you can spot a lie.
An eighties DOS text adventure is nowadays mainly a curiosity. Who would freely choose this game over anything else? But that's exactly why it's worth it. It shows a time when shooting and graphics hadn't taken over yet, and creators believed that an intellectual duel was enough. Today you can find it in a browser as a simulator of a boring party — or as a fascinating piece of history from which all future logic games and detective games emerged.
You can play it today if you're curious about how old games approached fun without pixels. Or if you want to play against a friend and only need questions, answers, and the guts to lie. Sleuth is old, slow, and unfiltered — but it's not cowardly.