It feels blasphemous to call a Warhammer 40k adaptation slick, let alone subtle.
You expect things to wallow like a Dreadnought knee-deep in Plaguebearer offal.
Daemonhunters is broadly a cosmic witchhunt, but it functions more often like a theocratic workplace comedy.
All your colleagues have it in for the others.
The difference is that, when things do go loud, Daemonhunters wants you to go louder.
Losing is fun, right?
Space Marines aren’t just immune to fear.
Helpfully, they’re also immune to death.
The execution system accompanies individual class skills that let you sneak a few extra moves into your turn.
I have a few closing complaints.
Other times, they’ll point themselves around almost randomly.
But these are the kinds of dents in the armour a Space Marine sneers at.
Some lacklustre enemy types?
A smidge too much busywork on the campaign screen?
A title that sounds like something you recite to the police to prove you haven’t been drinking?
Pshaw, warriors of the Adeptus Astartes do not fret over such trifles.
