There’s a moment in The Killing Stone where a player must decide whether to play a card that replaces an enemy with a gooey, high-stat monster. The catch? The card’s effect triggers only when the original creature dies. If the tower falls into the goo swamp, does it still count? The stakes aren’t just points—they’re souls.
The game casts players as Mariken’s apprentice, tasked with untangling a devil’s contract buried in a will. The solution isn’t a sword or a spell, but a card game called Fanghella, named after Icelandic ritual stones. Every move is a negotiation between legalese and bloodshed, where the wrong play could bind another soul to the devil’s bargain.
The mansion, a remote Arctic outpost called Little Denmark, feels alive. Familiars—chatty, opinionated, and occasionally helpful—lurk in the halls, while Mariken’s corpse delivers monologues in the voice of Emma Gregory (Minthara from Baldur’s Gate 3). The devil himself, voiced by Critical Role’s Liam O’Brien, cackles with menace. Dialogue toggles between Modern English and 17th-century Period English, a choice that appeals to scholars but risks overwhelming casual players.
A game of rules, not just cards
The Killing Stone’s card mechanics borrow from Slay the Spire’s dungeon-crawling structure, but the execution feels heavier. There are no defensive cards, no block mechanics—just waves of creatures where most are wiped out each turn. The real depth lies in reserve effects, where cards played above the battlefield can trigger abilities even if the creature below dies. A Flask of Thoughts in reserve still heals every turn, while tunneling and blast effects let creatures bypass or damage enemies behind their target.
Yet for all its complexity, the game rarely forces players to combine these rules in meaningful ways. Most battles resolve in the same way: clear the board, deal excess damage to the opponent’s health pool. The occasional boss fight ramps up difficulty artificially—like forcing a lethal card into a player’s hand—rather than emerging organically from the system.
Too many rules, not enough payoff
The real challenge isn’t the gameplay, but the learning curve. Players earn revelation points by deciphering the will’s legal jargon, which can be spent to reroll deck upgrades or influence bargaining rounds where boons and curses are negotiated. But the sheer volume of mechanics—curse cards, familiar abilities, Resolve vs. Deploy triggers—makes progress feel slow.
Hours in, the game still feels like a prologue. A tutorial pauses to explain lethal effects, a basic concept even in Magic: The Gathering. The narrative—rich with occult intrigue—isn’t yet matched by gameplay depth. The Killing Stone promises a world where every card is a legal contract, but for now, it’s a house of rules waiting for its story to unfold.
Early access saves the day
Originally slated for a full release this month, The Killing Stone launched in early access—a decision that may have prevented a rushed launch. The demo on Steam offers a taste of its ambitions: a mix of Slay the Spire’s strategic cardplay and a gothic mystery where the law itself is the battleground. Whether it delivers on that promise remains to be seen. For now, it’s a game of patience—one where the real contract might be with the player’s time.
