It’s probably not the smartest approach, but I spend most of my time in Dark Souls games running from one boss to another, hitting my head against a wall until it finally clicks and I figure out a way to dodge their attacks and land my own. It’s not very pretty but I didn’t see much wrong with it, until I was on the other side of this strategy.
The Dark Queen of Mortholme sees you take the role of the fearsome eponymous boss, and wait around for some little nobody covered in rags to fight you again and again. Fighting this upstart for the first time in my boss room took as much effort as stepping on an ant, I only had to use one move on him, and the so-called Hero fell with no resistance. But as I headed back to my throne, I could hear the patter of footsteps approach my door once again: He was back.
This pretender kept coming back no matter how many times I crushed his tiny soul or spilt his blood across my throne room, and each time he’d become a little stronger. Soon Hero learnt that he could avoid my dash by jumping over me, or that if he dodged my pentagram spell at the last second, it couldn’t damage him, meaning that I had to start switching up attacks and try out new ways to corner him. It was bloody annoying going up against some chump who was allowed infinite retries to kill me, and not at all fair.
After one particularly close fight, Hero even asked me whether I’d think it best to change, learn new moves, or at least try to become better in some way. My answer was quite stubborn, and I stayed firm in my belief that I was the pinnacle of all evil, the greatest warrior to ever live, and far too stuck in my ways to try out any new tricks now. So the fighting continued, and even though I beat Hero, I did cut it a little close at times.
It wasn’t until I was whittled down to my last quarter of health that I decided a bit of change may be a good idea and showed off my final form, an eldritch beast that let out a hideous screech that killed Hero instantly.
Unfortunately, even that attack didn’t work for long. Eventually, Hero returned with a new golden glowing shield which could repel my screams, and before long he had all my tricks figured out and was at last able to kill me. But I put up a pretty good fight before all of that.
Despite the aggravating premise, The Dark Queen of Mortholme was a neat inversion of the usual, and between the increasingly demoralising fights lay a smartly told story that was a nice surprise for such a short game. I was just expecting to fight for as long as I could, but I didn’t count on coming to terms with how to dig yourself out of a rut when you’re going nowhere or learning how to accept one’s own mortality.
The story only progresses during the short conversations between the evil Queen and Hero before a fight commences. At first the Queen looks down on Hero, but by the end of the whole ordeal, I think she sort of warms to his persistence and admires his can-do attitude, even if I found it a little irritating. Even so, it was a wholesome way to frame the story of a Hero fighting and eventually winning against the world’s greatest evil.
The Dark Queen of Mortholme, is a 20 minute game that explores the capacity for change as well as a slightly unconventional relationship, it’s fun, cool to look at, and just the right amount of frustrating. It’s also irrevocably changed the way I look at boss battles from here on out. I feel as if I need to hobble back to Morgott’s final resting place in Elden Ring just to apologise for how annoying I must have been trouncing up those stairs time after time, donned in his half-brothers armour, the strongest sword I could find, a mimic tear, and Melina to help me out—that wasn’t fair or very nice of me at all, I’m sorry.