Maid of Sker hardly set the world on fire when it launched back in 2020, but it had its merits and deservedly attracted a cult following of sorts. Which is rather fitting if you think about it, given the title’s folk-horror themes.
As we pointed out in our review, Wales Interactive’s chiller managed to (just about) distinguish itself from all of the other first-person spookathons that were clogging up Steam at the time, thanks to its uniquely British setting and an understated, gothic atmosphere. One that evoked the feeling of a classic 19th -century ghost story.
Fusing together aspects of pan-Celtic folklore and Greek Mythology, its breezy 3-hour campaign was rife with intrigue and gripped us right from the off. Among other things, we were fascinated by the legend of an ethereal siren that somehow washed ashore on the Welsh coastline; the aristocratic family that then exploited this creature’s power in order to lure trade ships to their doom; and the treacherous murder hotel that they subsequently opened to ensure that their new pet had a steady supply of food.
Even from a gameplay perspective, Maid of Sker had a few neat ideas. While the vast majority of your time was dedicated to the kind of escape room puzzle-solving that’s been honed to perfection by the Resident Evil franchise, there were also some Amnesia-esque helpless horror encounters to keep you on your toes. And, for once, those forced stealth sections didn’t entirely suck!
The clever gimmick here was that the so-called “Quiet Ones” (a religious sect of burlap sack-wearing zealots, who looked like they had emigrated en masse from The Town That Dreaded Sundown) happened to be totally blind. As such, these antagonists relied on sound to track your whereabouts and could even pinpoint your exact location if you made too much of a racket.
It was a cool mechanic that forced you to consider any potential noisemaking as a matter of life and death. Whether you were being careful not to trip over buckets, avoiding the inhalation of hazardous fumes that could trigger a coughing fit, or simply monitoring the volume of your character’s breathing; it led to some highly suspenseful moments. The point is, Maid of Sker wasn’t a masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination but it still had a lot going for it. You could easily see how, with a bit of refinement, the same development team might be able to conjure up something truly remarkable for their follow-up effort.
And now here we are — almost four years later — ready to dive back into the tantalizing world of Sker with a brand-new instalment in the series. One that aims to build upon its predecessor’s creepy foundations by leaning even further into *checks notes* multiplayer, round-based, zombie-horde survival, FPS gunplay. You know, because that’s the logical next step!
Bigger, Louder, Dumber
All joking aside, Sker Ritual is one of the most baffling spin-offs we’ve played in quite a while, as it seems to go out of its way at nearly every opportunity to renounce its forbearer’s strongest qualities.
Gone is the enthralling ghost story that captured our attention the first time around, with any paper-thin continuation of that narrative being relegated to collectable documents (which can only be accessed from the main menu, as if to emphasise how inconsequential they’ve become). Likewise, the slow burn approach to horror and the effective stealth have been replaced with brainless action, as you absent-mindedly mow down endless swarms of nondescript grunts (all of whom instinctively know your position. regardless of how cautious you’ve been). Even the original’s distinctly Welsh identity and folkloric influences have been downplayed in favour of a generic “evil scientist experiments on monsters” premise.
If we didn’t know better, we’d swear it had been made by a completely different studio — one who’d never so much as glanced at the store page for Maid of Sker. Yet, lo and behold, Wales Interactive are at the helm once again. Perhaps they earnestly believed that they’d be able to pull off that winning Alien-to-Aliens evolution for their IP, by expanding upon its scope and upping the ante. Or maybe they just thought a multiplayer shooter would be a more commercially viable product. Either way, the end result is far less compelling than what they had before.
In terms of the narrative set-up, Sker Ritual takes place a couple of decades after the last game’s (now-canonical) bad ending. The Industrial Revolution has been & gone, Britain’s just declared war on Wilhelmine Germany, and Elizabeth Williams — “The Maid” whom you were previously trying to rescue — is no longer in danger. Rather, she is the danger. You see, Lizzy has been corrupted by the intoxicating power of the siren song and seeks to harness it as a means of exerting her own terrible influence across the globe. Having already conquered her native island through the use of this mind-controlling hymn, she is now hoping to weaponize the very latest in modern technology to broadcast it further afield. In the process, she plans on subjugating the human race itself and creating an army of subservient drones.
That is unless you’re able to put a stop to her malevolent scheme. As a quintessential silent protagonist, your job is to thwart Elizabeth’s goals of world domination by sabotaging her
infrastructure and, well, just shooting at things. A lot!
Not only will this insurgency see you going up against the extended Williams clan, and their ever-obedient Quiet Ones, but you’ll also be forced to duke it out with what are essentially regular old zombies. Because — in a revelation that is hastily glossed over in the intro — Elizabeth has inexplicably become some kind of steampunk Dr Frankenstein figure now, cooking up ghoulish abominations in her lab.
To say that the jarring pivot towards sci-fi is “underdeveloped” would be an extremely generous way of putting it. Indeed, as far as plot points go, this one is barely even a Zygote.
We suspect that the true reasoning behind such a wild departure is that Wales Interactive wanted to justify why you’re plugging away at undead hordes, and not just some backcountry cultists). After all, they’re touting Sker Ritual as the heir apparent to Call of Duty’s popular Zombies mode. So, they’ve naturally got to have some zombies in there to back up their claim.
Going With The Crowd
The way that the walking dead have been inelegantly shoehorned in here kind of sums up the whole title in a weird way. Everything interesting about Maid of Sker has been either
minimised or outright removed in a desperate bid for broad appeal, while incongruous elements have been bolted on presumably because they worked so well in COD. So you’ve got things like insta-kill power-ups, rounds that get progressively tougher as they go on, and cash that can be used to upgrade your weapon loadout in the fleeting respite between enemy onslaughts.
What you end up with is a hollow shell of a game that’s had any discernible personality stripped out. If you’ve played any given horde shooter then you know the drill. Wave by wave you’ll gradually unlock more of the arena, as you battle with your friends to see how long you can survive. At first, you’ll be going up against a meagre handful of opponents, but over time new variants will get chucked into the mix, their health bars will get steadily chunkier, and you might even have to deal with the occasional boss.
Granted, it is a tried and tested formula. Yet Sker Ritual does nothing to innovate upon it, besides introducing some fiddly puzzles and awkward story objectives that don’t really gel with the horde survival idea.
The most maddening thing is that the genre switch-up could feasibly have worked if the developers thought outside the box a little. Case in point, there could have been a fun way of incorporating the old sound-based stealth mechanics into proceedings, if only they toned down the sheer number of aggressors that are thrown at you.
Imagine the tension that could be mined from dynamic scenarios in which one fatal misstep from your teammates could alert the docile Quiet Ones to your presence (ala The Witch in Left 4 Dead). Instead, we’ve gone from carefully monitoring every last decibel when trying to outsmart just a couple of these guys, to raucously slaughtering them in droves amidst the din of constant machine gun fire. You wouldn’t experience this much whiplash if you were transitioning from watching A Quiet Place to Transformers 5.
Similarly, there is so much that could have been done with the mythology angle and it’s disappointing that pretty much all of the possibilities were left on the table. We’ve played countless titles wherein we’ve been asked to fight bioweapons, but very few that have explored the idiosyncratic horrors of Celtic legend.
Yet despite that being one of the key draws of the original game, the closest that we get to it in Sker Ritual is the “Miracles” system. In a nutshell, this is a mechanic that allows you to stack multiple buffs over time by invoking various obscure deities; whether that’s the Zeus-like Taranis, the prophetic Draig or the phantom Goon Brenn cat of Cornwall. All of whom sound really cool and should have been featured way more prominently than they are.
One particular standout that caught our eye is the Nuckelavee demon; a skinless amalgamation of horse and rider that spreads pestilence wherever it treads. Or, at least, that’s what the bestiary tells us. Alas, you never get to actually interact with the bloody thing in any tangible way here, with its presence being limited to the aforementioned miracles which, at best, apply status effects to your Molotov cocktails and, at worst, merely adjust some damage percentiles in the background. Why they couldn’t bring some of these more intriguing characters to the forefront is anyone’s guess, because all we’re left with in their stead is bog-standard enemy types that have been done to death elsewhere.
To give them the teensiest bit of credit, that have attempted to link Sker Ritual to its predecessor through some call-backs and familiar assets. For instance, you’ll revisit the iconic hotel setting in one level, the helpful pooch returns as a pot-luck vendor, and Mr. X’s non-union Welsh equivalent, Abraham (another hulking, jacketed brute who loudly stomps around the place) makes a contractually-obligated comeback. They’re not enough to salvage the experience by any means, but they are appreciated nods for fans.
A Chaotic Shambles
Ignoring the fact that it’s about as representative of its source material as it is of Pikmin, Sker Ritual still isn’t very good.
Should you manage to wrangle up a decent posse, who are willing to share in the tedious bloodshed and frankly confusing mission types, then it just about scrapes by. After all, there’s a decent amount of content and a fair bit for you to spend your cash on; whether that’s unlocking doors, stocking up on revive tokens, purchasing better firearms or upgrading the ones you already have. Furthermore, there is something to be said for the cheap, lizard-brained thrill of blasting monsters away with your buddies. Yet the limits of this appeal are sorely tested when you try to grind through the same ordeal by yourself, as you quickly realise just how monotonous the core loop can be.
Not only will your mileage vary depending on the quality of your company, but it’s also somewhat dependent on how you choose to play. As aforementioned, the game’s single biggest innovation to the genre is that there are story objectives associated with each of its four maps, which you can elect to ignore or pursue at your leisure.
For those who are craving that old-school Call of Duty Zombies kick, it’s possible to focus exclusively on the more arcade-y aspects; tallying up high scores and seeing how long you
can withstand the unrelenting horde. Alternatively, if you want a bit more structure, then there is always that critical path you can follow for a nice, definitive ending. In theory, it’s a welcome option to have.
However, we’d advise that you make a decision as soon as possible (and that everyone on the team is on the exact same page) because the two strategies aren’t at all compatible. Overindulging in the slaughter and leaving it too late to complete objectives puts you at a huge disadvantage, on account of the way that enemy ranks swell and the difficulty scales the further you progress into the rounds. That’s all well and good if you’re only attempting to crack the leaderboards but, on the other hand, if you’re attempting to get shit done then it becomes a real pain in the ass.
Even when blitzing the assorted errands you’re given, the spike will hit eventually and it’s not uncommon for a match to wrap-up with you being forced to kill over 1,000 creatures. That’s
the kind of trigger-happy, bombastic excess we’re talking about here. So it’s a little weird when the game asks you to multitask in the middle of this senseless carnage.
For example, there’s a puzzle relatively late on in the opening level that requires you to use a lantern in order to illuminate clues that will, in turn, help you bypass a nearby combination lock. And you have to do so in a ridiculously confined interior that doesn’t accommodate the inevitable World War Z mob that’s guaranteed to be on your heels by then.
You’re thus hunting for the relevant hints, adjusting agonisingly slow dials, and fending off an army all at the same time; in what increasingly resembles one of those pat-your-head-while-
rubbing-your-tummy exercises. It can only be described as an irritating clusterfuck.
The same applies to many of the other objectives, including a particularly vexing chore that demands you rack up kills within a designated circle (that’s less spacious than a battery cage). As you’d expect, trying to herd the undead into this infinitesimal area, like they’re bewildered cattle, kind of robs them of their intimidation factor and the whole farcical affair soon devolves into a lot of running around and undignified bunny-hopping.
And don’t get us started on that one ungodly section that gets you to babysit a flock of sheep through a pitch-black labyrinth. With no obvious landmarks to get your bearings, a dismal lack of light, and a temperamental bunch of followers who move at a glacial pace; it’s enough to make you wonder if you’re in fact the unwitting participant of some kind of heinous social experiment. One designed to figure out the precise breaking point of the human spirit.
In general, Sker Ritual is bad at explaining what it wants you to do and, short of being on the development team itself, there’s very little you can do to anticipate its whims. If you want to know the exact moment I started seeing red, it was when the HUD instructed me to “Use the Howler in the Dark to Enter the Cryptic Code”. Which, I assure you, makes about as much sense to you reading this review now as it did to me 4 hours into the fucking game.
In all fairness, many of these tasks are supposed to be puzzles but they’re not remotely enjoyable to solve and often the most inscrutable thing about them is that the goal isn’t properly communicated to you. Or there’s some kind of contextual button prompt that you have no way of knowing about.
In case it’s not clear, I wasn’t overly fond of Sker Ritual. It’s obtuse, chaotic, repetitive and, worst of all, incredibly bland. The only silver lining is that it made me re-evaluate just how much I did like Maid of Sker in comparison. So check that one out if you haven’t already.
Sker Ritual will be released on Steam, PS5 and Xbox Series X/S on April 18th. Review code provided by publisher.
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