The royal treatment

Little King’s Story wants you to think it’s cute. From the charming drawings on the box to the simple, childlike presentation when you boot up the disc, there’s little you take in that won’t make you go “awww.”

Little King’s Story wants you to think it’s cute. From the charming drawings on the box to the simple, childlike presentation when you boot up the disc, there’s little you take in that won’t make you go “awww.”

But writing off the game as just another cog in the casual and/or cutesy Wii shovelware machine would be a big mistake. LKS may seem all happy and fuzzy, but underneath the pastoral aesthetic and cuddly looking characters, the game’s implications are far more mean-spirited.

This is just one of many reasons why I love this game.

At the outset, LKS sets itself up in a childish fantasy. A narrator explains that one day a small boy ends up in a magical world, finds a crown and becomes king. Isn’t that just sooo cute? A little boy adventuring in the realms of imagination, master and commander of all he can see.

Your first task as the little king? Whip your jobless, lazy, good-for-nothing peasants into shape. Gather up a group of them and make them dig for gold to fill the kingdom’s empty treasury. They’re mere serfs—far too stupid to either say no or realize this is only the beginning of a life of indentured servitude.

As the days pass and your subjects forage for gold and materials to bolster your kingdom’s economy, soon your territory will begin to prosper. Send those subjects to special job training houses to make them learn a skill or trade.

Before you know it you’ll be leading groups of soldiers, carpenters, lumberjacks and several others on expeditions, whether it’s collecting taxes around the town or embarking on missions of conquest and attacking hapless territorial guardians in the name of your kingdom’s expansion.

Even the cavalier method of using the Muppet-like peasantry to do your bidding smacks of a total disregard for them as people—everyone has a name, personality and so on. Target an object or enemy, and with a quick wave of your scepter they happily charge in like projectiles.

Conquer enough territory and you come across the first of several kings in other kingdoms. But, as your cabinet minister puts it, how can there be other kings in this world? You clearly have to punish them for being impostors. Even if some want to be your friends or invite you to their kingdoms just to get drunk.

So, is merciless imperialism really the best solution to deal with these other kingdoms? Absolutely. Long live the king!

These microcosmic examples are indicative of LKS‘ style and tone, not to mention sense of humor. Cut scenes are presented in a pastel-type fashion reminiscent of a coloring book. Almost the entire soundtrack is composed of silly, reworked versions of classical tunes, everything from “The Nutcracker” and “Bolero” to “Pomp and Circumstance” and “Ode to Joy.”

Talk to one of your many subjects and they’ll kiss your ass and tell you how great the kingdom is, despite your working them into an early grave, for example. And let’s not forget about the kingdom’s naked troubadour. Or the numerous self-reflexive jokes about the game industry and LKS itself. Or the fact that the little king has a riding cow named Pancho. It’s all very ridiculous.

Needless to say, aside from the humor and playful approaches to what is essentially slavery and cutthroat empire building, LKS is a lot of fun as well. The game’s real-time strategy action systems are a good switch from more traditional Japanese RPG combat, even if targeting can be a little finicky, and there’s always more land to conquer or someone else to coerce.

At least half of the fun is simply seeing all the ways you can upgrade your kingdom, or just what you can make your poor subjects do for you or, eventually, your relationship with your queen, and so on. The life of a little king, for better or worse, is always busy. Now, get to work—you’ve got peasants to boss around.