Nidhogg 2 Review

Intro:

Nidhogg was a wonderful surprise when I first played it years ago. Its simplicity seemed like a revelation at the time – when the industry was demanding bigger, louder and more complicated, Nidhogg delivered one of the most fun multiplayer games I’ve ever played with a laser-focused premise, minimalist visual style and controls so simple literally anyone could play. It was also a game I never thought needed a sequel, nor did I ever expect to see one. Turns out I was wrong on both points.

Gameplay and Multiplayer:

Nidhogg II retains the incredibly simple premise of its predecessor: run to the other end of the screen whilst your opponent, who will always spawn in front of you, tries to stop you with the business end of a pointy stick. If they kill you, they start charging the other way, and whoever reaches their final screen first wins. Of course it’s never as easy as that, with control shifting so often these matches devolve into a mad scramble for the slightest bit of ground. It’s one of those ‘even grandma can play it’ experiences, which gaming needs more of. Not necessarily so that grandma can get in on the fun more often, but because a simple premise is always going to be one of the most enduring and replayable in the months and years to come. It also helps a game like Nidhogg remain understandable and playable even when you’re two or three (or six) pints in, which if our sessions are anything to go by, is a huge boon. I don’t encourage you to make a drinking game out of Nidhogg, but there are few games out there as well suited to the idea.

Whilst the first game only offered you a fencing sword, Nidhogg II randomises your weapons to mix things up. It’s a change that could have spoilt Nidhogg’s simple charm, but luckily it works, and adds an extra element of madness to an already hectic game. All the weapons – including a large claymore, a tiny dagger, the standard sword and even a bow and arrow – all feel well balanced whilst having their own strengths and weaknesses, meaning that no dual feels unfair, you just need to change the way you play to match what your opponent is wielding. This is helped by the fact that you’ll both spawn with different weapons upon every death, forcing you to stay on your toes. It adds another layer of strategy you need to think about on a split-second to split-second basis, where reading the opponent’s loadout is as important as understanding your own.

For the purists these inclusions can be turned off, but my party loved playing with the random weapons. They turned the loud, manic tug of war battles into even more unpredictable beasts, and allowed for surprising upsets of the best kind. Plenty of our matches where eternal battles where we won or lost a single screen over and over before someone finally got a good streak and gained a worthwhile amount of ground. Alternatively, there were also plenty of great matches that were over within a minute. It’s that kind of pace – or lack thereof – that gives Nidhogg its unique pulse, and its one I haven’t found elsewhere to date. The original Nidhogg has been a party mainstay since my group of friends discovered it, and Nidhogg II – with its extra features and brilliant art direction – will be replacing it going forwards. If that isn’t wild approbation, I don’t know what is.

Presentation:

Speaking of the aesthetics, now might be a good time to address that particular elephant in the room. Check out a screenshot from the first Nidhogg and compare it with the second, and you’ll probably be as bemused as the rest of us were when the sequel was announced. The first game’s look was, without a doubt, its defining feature. Its stark, pixelated visual style meant that no part of the screen was wasted on something that wasn’t vital to the dual going down. Compare that to Nidhogg II’s bizaare, cluttered and dense visuals and you’ll see why there’s been a huge amount of controversy and upset about Messhof’s strange decision. Within an hour of playing Nidhogg II, I was very happy the devs didn’t cow to the pressure to redact the new look, as it is one of the best reasons that this sequel has in deserving to exist.

Nidhogg II has to be my favourite looking game of the year so far. The brutal executions of the first game always felt … gooey. This was helped in no small part thanks to the coloured blood that would run down the environments after a particularly long battle. Now, everything in the game matches that gooey feel. From the goofy looking customizable characters, to the absolutely stunning background art, everything pulsates and throbs and bleeds. The colour palette switches with each world and every one of them feels coherent, unbelievably detailed and – most importantly – always instantly readable, despite the mass of interesting and incredibly animated clutter that bobs and sways both in front and behind your characters. It’s a phenomenal look, an overly complex mess of animation that turns the minimalism of the first game on its head. It’s a style that everyone won’t get along with, but I’m absolutely in love with it.

I would love to see a more fully featured single player component to make the most of this stellar art direction, and it’s the only point of contention I can really level at Nidhogg II, though it’s a completely unfair quibble. Nidhogg wants to be multiplayer game and it succeeds at that, but part of me selfishly wants them to knuckle down and put their awesome combat system and top-notch fantasy world design to use in a sidescrolling hack-and-slash campaign akin to Salt & Sanctuary. It’ll never happen, but I can dream.

Conclusion:

“Nidhogg 2“, more than most sequels, had to prove why it should exist – its mechanics and premise were pretty much perfected the first time round, after all. For my money, some smart variations and modifiers, along with new weapons and an absolutely stunning new look, absolutely warrant the reasonable price tag – especially if you never checked out the original. It’s still one of the purest experiences you can have with a group of mates – and one of the wildest, too.