Gadzooks! I cried. Zounds and by my troth! I murmured as I donned my Lincoln Green. Yes, verily, today was a Monday, and 'twas time to rid Robin and His Merry Men of The Curse of Sherwood Forest.
Alas, alack, in a failed attempt- to exorcise the forest, the Bishop of Derby has been felled by a single black arrow. On finding his body, I Friar Tuck (could I not have been a character of slimmer proportions?) discovered a parchment, containing what was verily, the worst poem I have ever readst. The solution to ridding Robin and his Not-So-Merry Men of the evil cult of Sagalia lay within this rhyme.
I set out, armed with but a sword and the message from the poem. And soon I did discover a flock of murderous birds, followed quickly by a troll that did throw rocks in a most unfriendly way! So I did play them at their own game, and I did murder them, and I did amass points in their thousands. (Well, hundreds)
I also collected a goodly supply of weapons by walking over them, and other objects, such as shields, which I placed in boxes atop of the screen it all seemst awful familiar - quite alike the noble Firelord from brave Hewson - only nary even half so much dosh. But, gentle reader, that knowledge did me little good The gameplay was so simple that a babe in arms could have played, but the poem and the actual point of the game was all confusion. Although I did amass my points and win a brave supply of weapons, I could not find the solution to the rhyme. And though I did enter witches cottages, I found nothing, and thus left again, with nothing gained. Had I understood the rhyme, perhaps I could have found new levels. 'Twas not hugely impressing, methought.
However, forsooth, Curse of Sherwood Forest was a goodly game, and there were many beasties. and the graphics were pretty. There is a drum all while beating in the background (but the drummer he only knew one rhythm, which as those around remarked was a mite dull) and the occasional, lyrical sound of a crossbow firing.
I did not, to my shame, rescue Robin and t'others from the evil cult, but I did have good fun, and 'twas not me that was in trouble from the evil cult, so I did not worry muchly. 'Twas fine fun., and I would recommend that those of large proportions, or even smaller proportions, should play, and advise me of the way in which to win (Pause to slap thigh and twang bowstrings).
Good mediaeval fun, running round and firing your longbow. Not much variety, but entertaining all the same.