Hi! I’m a cult leader these days. Let me tell you what I was just doing.
I got up early and cooked something that made everyone have diarrhea. Then I gave a short sermon to cheer everyone up. I planted some seeds so I could make more food, gave everyone diarrhea, disappeared for a while, played dice, donated some mushrooms to an old friend in the woods, and caught up with my fishing, Then head over to the Gold Guys. I bought some cheap tarot cards, one of which promised a nice health boost every time a card was dealt. I go on a mission, kill a lot of nasty things in the woods, harvest resources while I go, etc. I killed a boss and made my way through a water forest to the next super boss. Go back to camp after that to clean up all the diarrhoea, build a few beds because my followers are sulking, water and fertilize some seeds, bang on scarecrows so the birds don’t eat my seeds, make their own A nice new wool allowance, then catch the rising sun and do it all over again. You know, I’d love to get into smelting.
Cult of the Lamb is a management game and action roguelite in which you play as an evil sheep. Its system weight is amazing. You can build dozens of structures to care for your flock, and your flock may complain, get sick, die, and preach in dozens of ways behind your back. You’re always after new cult members, everyone has their own quirks, you’re always after resources that make everyone happy, because happy cultists in turn give you resources to make them happier – when you set Get stronger as you go on an action rogue run, from small bosses to mid-management bosses, and then hopefully whoever is at the top.
This is true pen and paper territory. Or should it be, but it’s no secret: each new complexity basically behaves in a similar way to the previous ones, and what you’re actually trying to do is simple: keep everyone alive and Busy gathering resources, keep the flock growing, harvest their faith in you and turn it into power and a better base, then fight monsters around you. simple.
The administrative aspect was the most daunting part at first, but it quickly became very easy. You can read your followers’ minds and see what they’re after, and a great place to keep them happy is to feed them and give them a break. The deeper you go, the more meals you can cook without making everyone sick, and the beds have a little bit of weather protection. Their needs grow with your options. (I mean growing up. As it happens, I’m a very clumsy Machiavellian, but even that has its own rewards. One of my heretics is causing me so much trouble that I decided to give them a meal Toxic dinner. Sadly after I d baked it, I pressed the wrong button and ate it myself.)
When everyone is happy, you can send them to do various jobs, build things, clean up, collect resources, or worship you – everything feeds back in a loop, so resources allow you to build new things and worship – you know, bigger power and so on. Also sprinkled in are small mini-games that can be unlocked. You can fish or play a real game of chance and strategy dice. It’s a good waste of time in itself, and the developers should really move it to iOS so that the last bits of productivity in my life are completely destroyed. When you do all these things, you are learning what kind of cult leader you want to be. Re-educate dissidents or kill them? Bury the body or harvest the meat? Be your own boss, hum! What a wonderful life.
When all goes well, you can embark on a crusade, part of an action roguelite as you procedurally shuffle the weapons, powers, and perks you’re unlocking, and smash enemies room by room. This part of the game is simple but full of lovely punch. I like weapons that are fast and low damage – whenever I get sent out with a sledgehammer, things always end badly. I have a knife that I sometimes use to drain bad guys’ health, and a knife that summons ghosts! My favorite skill is a Lovecraft-esque four-way tentacle blast, or maybe a cloud of invincibility that deals damage. The enemy type has a pleasant range and is fun, and has a dodge roll that you really only need when you’re actually facing it. I was delighted to find out that enemies can actually kill each other – say, a hooded cultist might get hit by a meteor and be forgotten, or my favorite dude, which I like to call a snooker blast Disco brains, which can be knocked back and collide with each other, and they explode in a lovely chain reaction.
It’s a game designed for “hit them first”: ideally, you take yourself into a new room and smash all the bad guys to smithereens in seconds. As you battle these people, you’re collecting various resources and unlocking new followers. Like any good roguelite, there are lovely variations – like nice novelty rooms, and the occasional optional challenge. The bosses are vivid, and they and their minions often appear in diabolical form on things you wish you’d never sneak in a pond or under a brick. They make the most of the art style, these are flat paper creatures done with thick magic markers. It’s enjoyable to skim through the stuff, and a sort of social networking timeline ticking off the side of the screen telling everyone in your family is starting to poop uncontrollably.
I love the way the two games come together, and I love that Cult of the Lamb is surprisingly honest about the gleaming core of the entire enterprise — the almost mindless hustle and bustle is actually a joy under the right circumstances. In theory, you are doing terrible things, imposing bloodthirsty teachings on your flock, murder and cannibalism, or worse, if anything. But really, it’s all about stats, hits, and power choices. When it comes to obedience, the game is very good – and/or worrisome. Give me rising numbers and I can do almost anything. I’m not fooled by the illusion that I’m in charge.
For me, what excites me more than the artful mix of genres and The Binding of Isaac with clever, shameless clickers like Forager is the art and sophistication in the visual elements. The designs on the tarot cards – and the card back itself, my personal charm – are marvelous, evocative and lightly captured, like the best New Yorker cartoons. Whenever I get into the roguelite bit and start walking through those rooms, everyone recommends me the stage for a particularly evocative school play: the creepy witch hut with giant mushrooms with tea lights burning inside. You could say that the teachers really care about this work by Hansel and Gretel. One set of rooms is accessed by a porch, which itself is knee-deep in gently flapping water. People are eager to build a truly transportable world here, so what? So I was properly shipped.
Being a cult leader in this fun old game is a bit like being a game designer, I guess. It’s complicated on some levels, and using the cute and vivid cliché, you’re herding a lot of cats. But in reality, you are arranging happiness for people. The only difference is that, as a cult leader, if they are not happy, you can cook them to eat.