We're on the threshold of the final step of a long and arduous quest. The macguffin is in sight, and all that stands between it and us is this one goblin guard. So. Seems easy enough, right? Pick the right option(s) and win?
That's when the game starts questioning our choices. The concerns range from the strictly logistical (how is this plan going to work?) to the philosophical (do the ends justify the means?) and the "game" ends up being a deconstruction of the heroic fantasy genre. There are some interesting points raised, such as the question of where honour fits in when the fate of the world hangs in the balance, which I found quite interesting. The way we handle these questions provides for a pretty wide variety of endings (some satisfying, many less so) just coming off of this one final moment of the epic quest.
I do get the sense that this is a highly moralistic game, though perhaps it says more about me than about the game that I was most satisfied by the endings that came about after passing the narrator's moral scrutiny.
Not all of it is that intelligent, though. At least one branch devolves into what seems like a pointless sequence about job hunting in the modern day (better philosophers than I might be able to make a connection, but I doubt it) and there can be quite a bit of silliness involved as well. The silliness may be a natural development of the game's central idea of a conversation between a overly-scrupulous narrator and a hero who just wants to get this thing done, but I think that an author ought to know when to stop and how far to go. I feel that the game's fussy examination of the moment is a good idea, diluted to weakness by over-extension.
The tone of the narrative voice is, for the most part, quite amusing. As I said earlier, it's the idea of an overly-scrupulous narrator at odds with a more practical-minded hero. It's when one or the other starts recognising that they're in a game that things start to go awry for me. There are, I think, a few places where the hero ought to have had the option to agree with the narrator instead of insisting on pressing on. The dialogue is amusing, but the fact that the hero's part is framed as player options makes those single-response moments feel like annoying "turn the page" links.
As a breakfast, it's a healthful Greek yoghurt with granola and fruit: apples, bananas, tomatoes ... wait, tomatoes? Yes, tomatoes. Because conflating scientific categories with culinary usages makes us both smart and funny. But hey, it's good for you.