Saxons to the left of me, Vikings to the right; and here I am stuck in the middle with Tom Towers (co-writing this review).
War of the Roses was a dirty “pay to win” game; the kind that takes people’s money instead of their time and attention like a prostitute and pimp combo operating in the seediest of backstreet motels: luring horny Yorkshiremen in with the promise of sweaty, rosy sex only for the Lancashire pimp to purloin the Yorkshireman’s purse ere any amorous acts are performed. After an hour or less of War of the Roses I escaped with my dignity and wallet intact.
The shiftiest of War of the Vikings’ vices is the DLC; for £3.99 one unlocks the ability to play as a “Shieldmaiden”, also known as the token woman who, rather than being raped and pillaged, rapes and pillages Saxons with her Viking brethren—she comes complete with two unique spears; the weapon of choice for female warriors. This is as far as War of the Vikings goes in the way of extorting, unlike the grand larceny that was War of the Roses.
Watch as I chop down this tree with a mere axe and a beard.
But in a bygone era, videogames were as a rule moral; and so morality is a limited yardstick—what of the gameplay? Well, never has throwing all strategy out the proverbial window, while flexing into the fray of sweaty, armoured assailants and swinging madly at any beard or muscle that steps in one’s way been so rewarding. War of the Vikings challenges one to leave one’s brain at the door, follow the leader, and swing away, Merrill. Which is contrary to War of the Viking’s mechanics: the particulars of Viking on Saxon violence are relatively complex. One is confronted with a clever blocking system, in which one holds down the right mouse button and flicks the mouse in the direction of the incoming attack: the incoming attacker thus must reconsider his or her assault depending on the blocking prowess of his or her opponent.
However, as one further acclimates to the particulars and cadences of the combat and faces more experienced opponents, well timed blocking offers genuine advantages. In a large brawl, quick, reflexive blocking parries incoming sneak attacks, and in one on one combat blocking delays one’s inevitable death, or can even gain one the upper hand on an opponent who put all his or her effort into one single attack: each attack must be charged to elicit greater potency, which gives the blocking and attacking a rhythmic and strategic (go for a full, predictable swing or a quick, surprise stab?) dimension that it does not always devolve into simple, reflexive dueling.
War of the Vikings also replaces regenerating health with bandages, of all things. While cowering in a corner or in the middle of an intense battle—in true viking style—with the fear of being shot in your chainmailed arse by an archer hiding behind his beard hairs at a distance; or speared in the rectum by a misandrist Spearmaiden with a sadistic sense of humour, hold B to bandage your mortal wounds. Terminal wounds render one inert, but might be healed by one’s Viking brethren; and in team deathmatch waning adversaries must be executed in cold blood to affect the score; it’s a brutal and effective system that adds intensity to battles (revive downed brethren mid-battle at the risk of one’s own life?) and accentuates the viking theme.
As with most online multiplayer games, War of the Vikings features custom loadouts. Sadly, the first beard was only unlocked at level 12, which took around three or four hours of playtime; an unacceptable grind simply to adorn one’s Viking face with his natural and rugged facial hair. Thus War of the Vikings replaces the “pay to win” aspect of War of the Roses with the innovation of actually playing to win—to unlock powerful capes, weapons, armour and skills, one must seriously commit oneself to the Norse grind. However, as one levels up and pillages, the stolen riches unfold at a satisfying pace, gradually but consistently presenting a tantalising new carrot just out of reach.
Many of the perks that you could use, but probably shouldn’t
Perhaps more important than the armour, weapons and beards are the various perks one can unlock for one’s custom loadouts. “Strong Will” lets one pick oneself back up after a foolish Saxon mistakes one for dead, “Hard Hitter” lets one hold one’s fully charged swing for longer; thus shaving off Saxon heads faster, and “Juggernaut” which renders one invincible against Saxon cow tippers whilst sprinting; a mere dagger or tackle enough to otherwise topple even the hardest viking bastard mid-sprint. By mixing and matching the perks, custom loadouts create unique play styles, with certain perks (and beards) useful in different situations and modes.
Regrettably there are only two modes of play: various forms of deathmatch and conquest; the latter of which is rarely played, but functions as a traditional capture and hold—breaking up the inevitable monotony of the other modes. The lack of variety makes proceedings grow somewhat repetitious over long periods of play, especially with unique unlocks like true viking beards and capes being so far down the line compared to more mundane perks and weapons.
As such, War of the Vikings is a great mixture of mechanics and style; successfully fashioning online first person shooter systems and maps (featuring both wide open battlefields and cramped, more intimate affairs; two styles which affect the feel and flow of battle) into engaging melee combat. But the limited game modes and dwindling community hogtie the glorious mechanics. Hopefully, as with the maps, we might see more modes trickle into play…pray to Odin that there are other Vikings left to play with, and Saxons to slaughter when they come.
