Nidhogg II

Nidhogg II is a fantasy side-scrolling action-fighting game where players engage in intense, one-on-one duels using swords and unconventional weapons like bows, spells, and bare fists, progressing through grotesque, procedurally generated levels filled with traps and monsters to ultimately feed the souls of their fallen foes to the colossal serpent Nidhogg. As a sequel to the original Nidhogg, it expands the chaotic multiplayer combat with new arenas, customization options, and both local and online modes for up to two players, emphasizing skillful fencing mechanics in a darkly humorous, medieval-inspired world.

Nidhogg II: Review

Introduction

Imagine a world where victory means leaping into the maw of a colossal, insatiable worm, your bloodied blade still dripping from the throats of rivals strewn across grotesque arenas. This is the absurd, exhilarating realm of Nidhogg II, the 2017 sequel to Mark Essen’s 2014 indie darling Nidhogg. Building on its predecessor’s cult status as a minimalist dueling masterpiece, Nidhogg II amplifies the chaos with expanded weaponry, nightmarish visuals, and a pulsating soundtrack that turns every parry into a symphony of savagery. As a game journalist and historian, I’ve dissected countless fighters, from the pixel-perfect precision of Street Fighter II to the sprawling epics of Mortal Kombat. Yet Nidhogg II stands apart—a gleefully violent party game disguised as ancient ritual. My thesis: While it stumbles in solo play and online consistency, Nidhogg II cements its legacy as the ultimate couch co-op brawler, refining the original’s elegant brutality into a grotesque, addictive feast that influences indie design to this day.

Development History & Context

Nidhogg II emerged from the visionary mind of Mark Essen, founder of Messhof LLC, a small California-based indie studio known for experimental, art-driven titles. Essen, who directed, wrote, and starred in voice work for the game (as per IMDb credits), drew inspiration from the original Nidhogg‘s success—a 2014 release that blended fencing mechanics with side-scrolling progression, earning indie acclaim amid a post-Braid boom in accessible, artistic games. The first Nidhogg was developed using GameMaker, a lightweight engine favored by indies for its rapid prototyping, and this sequel stuck to the same toolkit, allowing Messhof’s lean team of about 66 developers (plus 39 additional credits) to focus on core innovations without ballooning budgets.

The development context was ripe for such a project. By 2017, the gaming landscape was dominated by esports titans like Overwatch and battle royales like PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds, but indies thrived on platforms like Steam, PS4, and emerging Switch ports. Messhof’s vision, as hinted in promotional materials from Day of the Devs (where it debuted in 2016 and 2017 showcases), was to evolve the “tug-of-war” dueling formula without overcomplicating it—echoing the era’s push for “pick-up-and-play” multiplayer amid rising remote work and social isolation. Technological constraints were minimal; GameMaker enabled fluid 2D scrolling and direct control, but challenges arose in networking (handled by Vadim Dyachenko) and porting (Aaron Melcher for consoles). Released on August 15, 2017, for Windows and Mac, with PS4 simultaneous launch, it expanded to Xbox One (2018), Nintendo Switch (2018), and even arcade cabinets (2022 via DSM Arcade), reflecting publishers like Nippon Ichi Software’s faith in its cross-platform appeal.

Essen’s team included key talents like artist Toby Dixon for the grotesque visuals and sound designers Chris Smith and Jake Viator, collaborating with composers such as Mux Mool (Ghostly International) for tracks like “Raw Gore.” Production head Sébastien Paradis oversaw the 105-person credit list, emphasizing a boutique approach that prioritized “fun over fidelity.” In an industry grappling with AAA crunch, Nidhogg II exemplified indie’s agility, launching at $15—a steal that mirrored the 2010s indie pricing revolution, making high-quality experiences accessible beyond big-budget blockbusters.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Nidhogg II eschews traditional storytelling for a primal, allegorical framework, where narrative serves as a scaffold for mechanical mayhem rather than emotional investment. The “plot,” if it can be called that, unfolds in a fantasy realm inspired by Norse mythology’s Níðhöggr—the world-devouring dragon gnawing at Yggdrasil’s roots. Players embody faceless warriors in a ritualistic tournament, vying to reach the opposite side of linear arenas to offer themselves as sacrifice to the titular “wurm” (a pulsating, cosmic beast). As the official ad blurb poeticizes: “The wurm has returned and it must feed! Shed your garments and paint the walls with the flesh of your enemies, for only one can be worthy of sacrifice.” Success means devouring by the Nidhogg; failure, devouring by your foe. There’s no dialogue beyond guttural grunts (voiced by Essen), no character arcs, and no branching paths—just endless resurrection for the duel.

Thematically, this setup delves into absurdity and existential violence, critiquing chivalric honor in a world that “cares not for chivalry.” Drawing from the original’s silhouette minimalism, the sequel’s grotesque exposition amplifies themes of futility and excess: Warriors customize head-to-toe (hats, outfits, even intestines post-death), turning combat into a carnival of dismemberment. One achievement, “Bloodlust,” demands 100 kills in a single match, underscoring gladiatorial excess; “Comeback Kid” rewards near-defeats, symbolizing resilience in ritualistic cycles. Subtle lore emerges in levels—from crumbling castles evoking medieval folly to the worm’s innards, a throbbing viscera of birth and consumption—mirroring themes of sacrifice in games like God of War but subverted into farce.

Critically, the narrative’s shallowness is both strength and flaw. It invites philosophical readings: Is the worm a god demanding tribute, or a metaphor for gaming’s addictive grind? Yet, as reviews note (e.g., Digitally Downloaded’s lament on lacking “lore”), it prioritizes emergent stories from player rivalries—trash-talking friends over cosmic worms. In historical context, this minimalist mythos echoes Bushido Blade‘s lethal duels or Qix‘s abstract tension, positioning Nidhogg II as a postmodern fable where violence begets hilarity, not tragedy.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

At its core, Nidhogg II is a side-viewing, 2D fighting-platformer hybrid, distilling dueling into a “tug-of-war” loop: Advance rightward through arenas while fending off foes, only for them to counter-push left. Matches span 1v1 (local or online) or 8-player tournaments, with victory hinging on reaching your goal and feeding the worm. Controls are direct and gamepad-optimized—intuitive thrusts, parries, and jumps demand split-second timing, evoking fencing sims but with cartoonish flair.

The deconstructed loop begins with face-offs: Players spawn equidistant, arrow in tow, racing to seize it for progression. Weapons randomize per section (no player choice, adding chaos): The rapier offers poking range for safe pokes; the broadsword swings in disarming arcs, perfect for close-quarters; daggers excel in speed for rapid stabs; the bow riddles distant bowels with arrows; bare hands enable throws and grapples, squishing “brains between your toes” as the blurb delights. Throwing any weapon mid-fight introduces silliness—hurl a sword like a boomerang, disarm foes bare-handed. Levels dynamically influence play: Hide in tall grass, sink ice floes, or plummet into abysses, per Gameplay (Benelux) reviews. UI is minimalist—health-less combat relies on positioning, with a clean HUD showing progress and timers for sudden-death tiebreakers.

Innovations shine in customization (head-to-toe outfits) and variables (10+ modifiers like speed tweaks), fostering replayability. Tournaments add bracket tension, while arcade mode pits you against AI waves for “Flesh and Blood” achievement (beating single-player). Flaws emerge here: Solo play feels “illusory” (Jeuxvideo.com), with AI cheesing paths and no difficulty scaling (Way Too Many Games critique). Online matchmaking (2-player max) suffers lag inconsistencies, per player anecdotes, though local split-screen thrives. Progression is absent—no unlocks beyond cosmetics—emphasizing skill over grind. Overall, the systems blend accessibility with depth: Simple inputs yield chaotic emergent combos, like bow-sniping into a dagger rush, making it “addictive” (Garage Band Gamers) yet punishing for newcomers.

World-Building, Art & Sound

Nidhogg II‘s world is a fever-dream fantasy of medieval grotesquery, spanning ten stages from fog-shrouded castles to the Nidhogg’s pulsating innards—a throbbing, vein-riddled hellscape where walls undulate like living flesh. Atmosphere builds through environmental hazards: Perilous platforms in sandy dunes or frozen tundras force adaptive play, turning arenas into characterful battlegrounds. This progression mirrors the tug-of-war theme, with the worm’s belly as climactic payoff, evoking a journey from civilization’s facade to primal consumption.

Visually, Toby Dixon’s art direction (with Francis Coulombe’s additions) is a polarizing masterpiece—vibrant, hand-drawn grotesques that trade the original’s black-and-white elegance for garish, fleshy palettes. Characters burst with “ugly, super bright” designs (WeTheNerdy), limbs flailing in ragdoll physics, entrails spilling in absurd detail. It’s consistent and immersive, akin to Donkey Kong Country‘s pre-rendered whimsy but twisted into Tim Burton-esque horror-comedy. Minor gripes include menu tearing (non-impactful on frame rates) and cluttered foregrounds (Rock, Paper, Shotgun notes lost “elegance”), yet details like background Easter eggs reward exploration.

Sound design elevates the madness: Chris Smith’s effects—wet thuds of dismemberment, arrow whirs, worm gurgles—punctuate combat with visceral punch. The soundtrack, curated from indie luminaries, is a revelation: Mux Mool’s “Hog Knuckles” and “Thrust” pulse with electronic drums and glitchy rhythms, fitting arena shifts; Daedelus’ “Tiptoes” adds ethereal tension; Baths’ “Knapsack” layers ambient dread. Even menus groove to “Menu Chow,” making navigation a jam session. As USgamer praises, it’s “one of the best soundtracks in recent memory,” synergizing with art to forge an infectious, sensory overload—grotesque visuals amplified by beats that turn kills into cathartic raves, deepening the ritualistic immersion.

Reception & Legacy

Upon 2017 launch, Nidhogg II garnered solid critical acclaim, averaging 78% on MobyGames (19 reviews) and a 7.5 Moby Score. High marks from Garage Band Gamers (100%, “amplifies… addictive gameplay”) and Destructoid (95%, “expanded… wonderful mechanics”) lauded multiplayer depth, while IGN (80%) and Push Square (80%) hailed its “intense and hilarious” couch appeal. Lower scores, like Cultured Vultures’ 60% (“worthless without friends”), criticized solo thinness and art divisiveness. Commercially, at $15, it sold modestly but endured via ports, amassing 31 MobyGames collectors and Steam sales boosted by bundles.

Reputation evolved positively: Nominated for Best Fighting Game at The Game Awards 2017, it gained cult status amid Switch party-game hype (Darkstation: 70%, “fun… in small doses”). Player scores lag at 2.7/5 (few reviews), citing online woes, but community forums buzz with tournament tales. Its influence ripples through indies—echoed in Gang Beasts‘ chaotic brawls or Lovers in a Dangerous Spacetime‘s co-op tension—pushing minimalist fighters. Historically, it bridges 8-bit duels like Karateka to modern esoterica, inspiring GameMaker devs in an era of procedural excess. By 2025 ports (last modified date), it’s a preserved artifact of 2010s indie vitality, influencing arcade revivals and social gaming post-pandemic.

Conclusion

Nidhogg II is a grotesque gem—refining its predecessor’s dueling essence with weapons, worlds, and a soundtrack that pulse with life, all while stumbling on solo depth and netcode polish. Mark Essen’s vision, realized through Messhof’s artisanal craft, delivers unmatched co-op hilarity, where every thrust and tumble forges rivalries as memorable as any epic quest. In video game history, it claims a niche as the indie party’s savage heart: Not for lore-hunters or loners, but essential for friend-fueled frenzy. Verdict: 8.5/10—a timeless tribute to play’s primal joy, devouring time like the wurm itself. If you crave chaos with comrades, feed the beast.