Throw Your Friends, Feed the Otter God, and Embrace the Chaos
Released on July 4, 2025, Vampirates is the kind of chaotic co-op madness that doesn’t try to be deep or polished—and that’s precisely why it works. Developed by Abonneer, this $3 indie party game throws you and up to three friends into a wave-based brawler set in a tavern under siege by zombies, where survival means feeding corpses to a flying, all-powerful Otter God. You heard that right.
A Tavern in Otter Chaos
At the heart of Vampirates is a beautifully absurd premise: you play as vampire pirates (vampirates, obviously) trapped in a tavern, battling off zombies, and chucking their corpses into a glowing void to satisfy the hunger of an Otter deity. You’ll fight through increasingly chaotic waves using anything you can grab—chairs, bottles, chickens, and yes, even your fellow players. Kevin, specifically, is a fan favorite to hurl into battle. Screw you, Kevin.
The game’s single map, The Wet Plank Tavern, is a chaotic playground filled with breakable furniture, cluttered messes, and a stream of undead enemies. It’s not big, but it doesn’t need to be. Tight quarters, limited resources, and absolute mayhem are the point. The environmental design supports a loop of frantic improvisation and ridiculous strategy. You’ll lose track of time. You’ll also lose track of Kevin.
The Combat System: Slapstick Survival
Combat in Vampirates is physics-based nonsense at its finest. The controls are intentionally loose, the movement just janky enough to be hilarious without being frustrating. Swinging a barstool is just as viable as lobbing your buddy across the room. And yes, friendly fire is very much a thing. You’ll accidentally (or deliberately) sabotage your friends just as often as you help them.
Throwing is the central mechanic. You grab objects—or friends—and yeet them at enemies, into the Otter God’s maw, or just across the room for laughs. The feedback is exaggerated and satisfying. Every ragdoll bounce or awkward tumble adds to the game’s slapstick energy. Think Gang Beasts meets Overcooked in a vampire-pirate-zombie fever dream.
Feed the Otter God (or Else)
The Otter God is the silent timer on your misery. You need to feed it fresh zombies by grabbing their bodies and tossing them into its floating void-hole before it gets hangry. Fail to do so, and it punishes your team with an explosive tantrum, usually wiping out half the tavern in a blaze of furry vengeance.
This mechanic adds urgency to the brawling and forces coordination. Or it would, if anyone could stop screaming long enough to form a plan. In practice, it’s chaos, as proximity chat devolves into a cacophony of shouting, betrayal, and accidental heroics.
Proximity Chat: The Real Star of the Game
It’s hard to overstate the impact that proximity chat has on the experience. Hearing your friends panic as they get dragged off by zombies or hurled into walls (or by walls) is hysterical. There’s no better feeling than hearing someone yell “DON’T THROW ME” just before you throw them. It turns every match into a mix of sitcom and horror movie.
Want to roleplay a delusional vampirate? Go for it. Want to pretend Kevin betrayed the crew and deserves punishment? Nobody will stop you. The emergent storytelling writes itself.
Multiplayer Madness: Bring Friends, Lose Friends
Vampirates supports online co-op, and while you can technically play solo, you really shouldn’t. The game thrives on shared chaos. The physics, the chat, the over-the-top pacing—it all hinges on the presence of other people making dumb decisions alongside you.
There’s no deep progression system. No unlockable cosmetics. No stats to chase. It’s a simple experience meant for quick bursts of fun, and that’s precisely what it delivers. For $3, it’s a no-brainer.
Bugs, Jank, and Charm
Yes, Vampirates has jank. Sometimes you’ll clip through walls or get stuck in scenery. Occasionally, the physics goes haywire. But here’s the thing: it rarely matters. The imperfections become part of the fun. The rough edges feel deliberate, like the game knows it’s stupid and invites you to embrace it.
Visuals & Vibe
The art direction is cartoonish and exaggerated, with expressive characters and vibrant chaos. It’s not graphically complex, but the stylization works. The Otter God appears both majestic and deranged, and the zombies are grotesque enough to be unsettling without ruining the mood.
The UI is minimal. The audio design leans heavily on shrieks, slaps, smashes, and the dulcet tones of your friends losing their minds.
Should You Play It? Absolutely, especially with friends.
Should You Expect Depth? Not even a little.
Should You Throw Kevin? Always.
For $3, it’s one of the best laughs-per-dollar purchases you can make. It’s short, stupid, and delightful.
Otter be more games like this.
Vampirates: Vampirates is not trying to change the world. It’s a budget indie co-op brawler with one joke, and it nails that joke every time. Throwing Kevin at zombies to appease an angry Otter God while your friends scream in proximity chat is the kind of nonsense that gaming was made for. – ColdMoon