Du-u-u-u-u-u-de! Like you’re this sorcerer’s apprentice, right? But
you don’t look Mickey Mousey or any of that shit, ’cos that’d be max
Right, Can’t keep that up. Anyway, you’re Tim and Neil’s bro who
came too late for Split Enz, or summat, just named Finn – or,
perhaps, Funn. You hang with an annoying, goody-goody, talking white
ponytailed cat (a feline that may have a secret) and kill time
disobeying your wizardly master and stealing his stuff. So,
nutshellistically, you’re a wannabe Harry Potter dipshit. When some
manky queenie Goth chick decides to suck the daylight from the world
though, you trundle into action.
Welcome to what is – despite the Eric banal story - one of the best
Move things we’ve played... and we’ve played most of ’em. Whereas,
say, Medieval Moves
gave the player all the freedom of being manacled, nail-gunned to a
plank of wood, set in concrete and then super-glued to something
more immovable than Julia Gillard’s bullshit stance on same-sex
marriage, Sorcery lets you loose.
Well, more specifically, you get to roam about a partially on-rails
landscape, Navcon or Dualshock in left hand (we recommend the
former), and wand (aka Move) in your right (unless you’re a
mollydooker, natch), flinging spells with gay abandon, gathering
tweasure, mending broken stuff and puzzling. You even build Stone
Henge in case Spinal Tap pop by. It works! It requires some skill!
You start off turning sheep into little piggies crawling in the
dirt, and progress to zottinating hench-things like not-so-groovy
ghoulies and magic nose goblins, through to big bossy beings like a
banshee that certainly ain’t one of Siouxsie’s mates.
Another boon of progression – but non-moustachioed - is your
alchemistic development (Annyong?!). Mix a spell, combine with
another, power up, then whomp that mother...
Dust off that Move dudes, this one’s gnarly, yo!