The Indie Informer

Twenty-two hours, twenty-five dungeons, and the Bunnyblade 9000 (don’t leave home without it) have made me the champion of Dungeons of Hinterberg. Defender of the retail workers. Friend to the monster cosplayers. Destroyer of capitalist greed. And owner of many other impressive titles. Does that sound like one heck of a vacation or what?

The anticipated action-adventure-meets-social-sim fulfills all the promise of its Slaycation premise with hack-and-slash mornings and companion-filled afternoons — no mean feat. Puzzles and combat remain untaxing for players that keep up with the game’s signposting, which complements its more meditative nature. Oftentimes, players can choose to forego fighting altogether to simply enjoy the delights of the countryside. Those delights are many, with the vibrant visuals bringing to each new biome a fetching vitality. However, one of my favorite elements is a story which, at its peak, asks players to grapple with the nature of commercialism and their role in it.

What would happen in a world where magic suddenly become real? Where anyone could walk up and wield it? Developer Microbird Games theorizes here — probably correctly — that it would become a tourist trap. I begin my journey in the car on the way to Hinterberg, a town whose countryside boosts twenty-five dungeons that mysteriously sprang into reality three years ago. Since then, tourists like me have flocked to the dangerous but alluring site to test their mettle against the dangers and puzzles within.

As a result, an entire industry has grown up around supporting these would-be heroes, selling gear, potions, and lodging to the ever-increasing numbers of enthusiasts. I’m eager to join their ranks and forget, just for a while, about my draining legal job back in the big city. I’m ready to become a new person.

The dichotomy is shrewdly woven in from the very beginning — the absurdity of commoditizing actual magic and the personal, empathetic reasons for people from all walks of life to descend on the overburdened small town.

I have had multiple previous opportunities to go hands-on with the game. I took on monsters and learned to build relationships back in 2023. A year later, I caught a glimpse into its enigmatic story. So, I was already familiar with these aspects of the game. Combat is a straightforward affair with heavy and light melee attacks, changing magical abilities, and special skills tied to a cooldown system you can pick up throughout the world. This last was one of my favorite facets of fights, especially when I stumbled across an attack that allowed me to unleash a swarm of explosive butterflies.

The loot system ensured I’d never be too far below the recommended level for each dungeon, as I could acquire dungeon-suitable equipment while out adventuring and at the local village’s shops. However, if I was looking for a challenging encounter, I tried taking on dungeons just a little above my current proficiency. It got the blood pumping. The personality of the gear was also a pleasant treat. As I alluded to above, my favorite weapon was a sword forged in the shape of a bunny. Because what could be more fearsome? It’s also another great poke at the inherent sillines of the game’s premise.

There is also a wide array of ways beyond gear to change up my combat experience. Charms, for example, allow me to hit harder and up my defense. But there were also more fun options, like a charm that set off an explosion when I dodge rolled. Another good option was the charm that created a shockwave after an enemy is killed, pushing other nearby foes back. There is a whole system of shrinking down these charms — which require resources found throughout the four overworlds — in order to allow me to carry more and more. This provided an excellent reason to explore the countryside.

Not that I needed much more of a reason. Exploration was one facet of the game that I had really not experienced before jumping in for this review and I was captivated by it. Every morning, the game would prompt me to pick from several different locations — a sun-dappled hillside, a shady forest, a snowy peak, and a watery marsh.

Each of these housed several dungeons, and finding them was my first task. Wandering around these expansive areas was some of my favorite times in the game. Smartly, the large maps were darted with discoverable fast-travel points, so I never needed to backtrack. However, I often found myself ambling through the same cow-sprinkled fields, sparkling ice caves, twisting boardwalks, and intriguing waterways to enjoy their vibes and ensure I hadn’t missed any chests tucked away in the nooks and crannies.

Discovering a new scenic spot during my wandering always brought a smile to my face. These special sites offered my character a chance to meditate on the world and their life. Often these musing lingered on all-too-understandable feelings of working for a job you don’t like or worrying about missing out on the truly important things in life. Afterwards, my character would gain an important boost, like more health or greater magic defense. So, there was a good mechanical incentive encouraging me to take this quiet moments.

Giving me incentives that tie back to finishing the dungeons was really well-crafted in all areas of the game. I most appreciated this during the game’s evening hours, which gave me the chance to hit the town to deepen my relationships with the people around me or experience various village activities. Becoming friends with any character came with rewards.

Sometimes small, like more stamina regeneration, and sometimes hugely beneficial, like unlocking new ways to upgrade gear. But no matter the reward, each person is interesting to get to know and everyone has a story behind behind in Hinterberg that is worth digging into. However, I had to be fairly strategic with my choices, since I could only spend my time with one person per evening. This creates an interesting tension to the non-combat portions of the game, and I often emerged from a dungeon planning out what I most needed to prioritise later that day.

Considering its the first word in the title, it’s perhaps strange to touch on the dungeons themselves last. However, almost everything else in the game exists for and because of them. When you finish the last of these trials of brain and brawn, the game is over after all. Every dungeon in a specific biome is thematically linked and I couldn’t tell you which I liked more.

Speeding through underground lairs on minecarts was energizing. But would I prefer that over grinding rails on a magical hoverboard in another biome? And does that experience trump my childlike wonder discovering a swath of strongholds enchanted to look like they were underwater? I also can’t decide how all of those stack up against being able to pick myself up with a tornado on command.

The disparate overworlds all offer different magical skills that change the way I interact with the dungeon’s puzzles and fights. Both combat and thoughtful challenges are sprinkled throughout every dungeon and both just clicked into place if I was at the appropriate gear level. This wasn’t a game that pushed me to me gaming limits, but both types of encounter were satisfying. If I ever felt like something wasn’t working right away, it was often because I’d overlooked or overthought some aspect.

Dungeons of Hinterberg‘s resolution is less compelling to me than the rest of its question-inspiring, eye-capturing experience. However, the hours spent pondering over a vista, uncovering tucked away loot, roaming the beautiful world, and discovering more about each character more than makes up for that.