‘Slay the Princess’ Is A Masterpiece
An engaging exploration of trust, relationships, and perspective that you need to play
I like games that make me think. I like games that make me question. I like games that make me feel. Slay the Princess, created and published by Black Tabby Games, is all three of those — it makes my brain itch in the best possible way.
This article will have minimal spoilers. A more spoiler heavy, detailed analysis and review may follow my 100% completion of the game.
The game gives you the premise immediately via one of the characters you’ll be spending the most time with: the Narrator.
“You’re on a path in the woods. At the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a princess.
You’re here to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.”
- The Narrator
It’s simplicity itself. Indeed, you can “beat” the game in something like 90 seconds if you silently and diligently follow orders and accept your oh-so-generous reward. The game itself states that, “There are no premature endings. There are no wrong decisions,” so thoughtlessly doing what the game’s title commands is entirely valid, and indeed valuable. You get your ending, and then you check the steam page. . .
Ninety-seven (97) achievements. That’s odd, isn’t it? That’s actually rather a lot, for such a seemingly short title.
There is a lot of game here. Much more than the modest price tag (just shy of $18 on Steam) indicates, at least.
Now, savvy gamers and readers familiar with the choices matter, visual novel format of games will be clued into the real game as early as the title and opening narration. As someone who was completely ruined by Doki Doki Literature club, the “Psychological Horror” tag on the Steam Store page gave me all the warning I need, but I’ll say it now for a curious reader: this game has a laundry list of trigger warnings (which is not a criticism), and you should do your research before buying. For what it’s worth, the trauma is worth it.
Save the Princess is a game about trust. It is a game about perspective. It is a game about relationships. While playing the varying routes of this game, slaying or saving the princess in dozens and dozens of permutations, you’ll explore these things — and the violence that may or may not be inherent to them — and think on what those things mean for you, the player. The way you approach each encounter will determine your outcome in ways that could have consequences that are both far reaching and neatly packaged into discrete chunks.
The mere act of walking into a room armed or not — even if you’re just holding on to the pristine blade out of caution — shapes the perspectives of the characters, which then affects your perception of them. It all whirls together to create unique, often tragic, sometimes hopeful, and always poignant outcomes. As some may already expect, the game is unafraid of lifting its gaze into the metatextual, framing questions of perspective, agency, and suffering in the terminology of a bounded cosmology within the confines of the program.
But beneath all of that, despite everything (or because of everything) this is a love story. The game claims it is, at least, and I’m inclined to believe it.
Slay the Princess wants you to take the conflicts contained within seriously, even when it makes you laugh at the banter between the voices in your head. Despite the gloomy, tense, and contemplative atmosphere, the game’s characters regularly made me chuckle, providing critical emotional contrast during the most brutal of the game’s routes. Each voice is distinct, recognizable, and has its own charm that makes meeting them a delightful (and quotable) moment in your play time.
Speaking of delightful, I must spare a moment to praise the art direction of the game. Slay the Princess utilizes hand-penciled art with limited animation. The color palette is restricted to greys, black, white, subtle browns, and varying shades of red, all in service of the melancholy vibes and suspenseful horror moments. Perhaps my favorite aspect of the game’s art direction is the mutability — or you could say impermanence — of it. The lines shift in place, the designs of spaces change in time, all to create a world that feels richly textured and realized, but always in a state of flux that keeps you on edge. Even the path in the woods may change, so keep on your toes.
I love games like this, and I’ll be chewing on the ideas and characters in Slay the Princess for some time. I highly recommend picking it up and giving it a try. Whether you complete one playthrough for your own ending or dig deep to examine every permutation, you’ll find value and enjoyment in this title. I guarantee it.
