Achoo! And with that, the Gnome I was chasing – white bearded, pointy-hatted, and absolutely delicious – winked out of existence. Never mind, I’ll catch it later when it reappears. Of more pressing concern is the Orc Warmaiden who, enraged by her lack of Wi-Fi signal, is determined to chop me into little pieces. Fortunately, I’m well equipped for the challenge: along with wielding my über-impressive First WeaponTM, I also look fantastic in my black armour, horned helmet, stomp-y boots, and, of course, my propeller-hat.
Sir Whoopass is a game like no other I’ve encountered. It’s a fast paced hack-‘n’-slash, a light-hearted, tongue-in-cheek send-up of fantasy tropes, and a surreal comedy with a sense of humour which would be at home in any Monty Python film. It’s a game where health-potions are replaced with edible Gnomes, killer sharks inhabit even the shallowest of waters, and the Ancient Ruins of Stubbed Toes beckons the unwary adventurer. It’s also the first game I’ve come across which actually knows the distinction between a dragon and a wyvern.
Whether you find yourself jet-packing across the large overworld whilst wearing the crown you pried from the lifeless fingers of the Immortal Revenue Service agent who attacked you because you refused to pay him (a role combining both death and taxes), or delving into one of the numerous dungeons where the floor really is lava (or an indoors beach-resort, you never know), the world is silly, surreal, and a delight to explore. You never know just what you’ll find, and you can never take for granted how anything will behave, except for 1) you won’t be expecting it, and 2) it’ll often make you burst out laughing.
Made by a small, two-man dev team who clearly love what they’re doing, it’s also rather old-school, in the best ways possible. Ignoring the modern trends to carefully guide your every step, festoon the screen with quest markers and spoon-feed the player precise instructions on how to meet the game’s challenges, it instead turns you loose on its virtual playground, and only gives you the occasional nudge in the ‘right’ direction.
This philosophy also extends to the combat system. Gone are the lengthy combos, context-sensitive moves and dreaded stamina bar. Instead, you can block, you can attack, you can run around, and you can roll into enemies to knock them down. There are three main weapon types (two melee and one ranged), a few throw-able items, and it’s also well worth experimenting with your backpack in the middle of combat (or even in the chicken farm). Combat is simple, straight-forward, surprisingly punchy, and very satisfying. If you like games like the original Prince of Persia or Doom, or even Jedi Academy, then you should feel right at home here.
Combat can also descend into pure chaos. In one boss fight, every time the boss took enough damage, it would temporarily freeze, become immune to damage, and summon a portal, which would, in turn summon a stream of melee and ranged opponents. While I could attack these portals and shut them down, that would mean turning my attention away from both the boss (who would, by then, be flinging boulders my way), and the new enemies that were appearing. This was sort of manageable until I got to about four active portals and several Summoners. A nod to the Revenant from Doom, these can teleport around the map, summon new opponents (including more Summoners) and will periodically launch an area-of-effect attack which forces the player to keep moving or die.
It was utter bedlam. Newly spawned goat-like creatures would charge at me from out of the portals, Orc Shamans would fling fire-balls, whilst grenade-launching knights indiscriminately lobbed explosives. Add to this, flying boulders from the boss-enemy, ogres, more orcs than you can poke a stick at, and Summoners shredding anything unfortunate enough to blunder into their zone of attack. Oh, not to mention the infighting that was occurring whenever a monster accidentally hit one of its fellows in its enthusiasm to get me. It was glorious. It took every ounce of my tactical awareness (and my tasty Gnomes) to survive long enough to take down the boss, then the portals, and finally the Summoners who kept teleporting out of range and bringing new foes to the fight. By the end of it, not only was I amazed I was victorious, I knew that I’d well and truly earned it.
While the silliness won’t appeal to everyone, for those who get it, Sir Whoopass manages something truly remarkable: a fun, comedic game which is just as funny at the start as it is at the end – which in my case was fourteen fun and chuckle-filled hours later. An indie gem, it’s more than worth the asking price (just a shade over $20AUD), and I have no hesitation at all in recommending it. ■