The Let's Play Archive

Dungeon Explorer

by Crucified

Part 14

I narrow my eyes and descend into the burgeoning darkness below. An eternity passes in a long, narrow corridor-- the kind of claustrophobic antechamber that might lead to the very womb of the earth. Eventually, the thick echo of my stiff boots against the stone rampway gives way to the high-pitched, hollow clack of polished marble and gaslight lanterns emerge from the rich blackness ahead, lining the walls of the tomb as if directing me to the grave. Slowly, the dim glow of the few feeble lamps open into a large enclosure like a cathedral, and an expanding light fills my eyes. I shield my face with an arm, and step through the archway into the pit of evil.

A vile stench follows the mimicked moonlight, humid and pregnant in the air. All at once, a wave of the sickening stuff attacks my resolve with the rotting stink of what I have only experienced from the bloated corpses of merciless slaughter. My eyes water and I gag as it fills my throat and nose, suffocating me with the very essence of death and decay. Terrible memories of a terrible past flicker in the recesses of my mind; revenge my sole reason for existence. The adventure is long over, and I have no fear. The face of my dead companion flashes before me, and the anger swells within me. I propel the stench from my nose like the rearing of a bull, and continue onward and downward into myself-- into the awakening of the beast within.

Wicked pedestals and altars adorn the polished floor, runes spelled painstakingly across all four walls. Insects roam in every shadow, those with the audacity to approach meeting a merciless fate.

The walls close in once again, forcing me deep into chasms through which, in the event of a collapse, I would not be able to return. Slick surfaced bubbles in the floor, crafted by some unfathomable presence periodically interrupt my progress, the red and bulging surface turgid with the creation of mindless drones. Every so often, a sucking noise echoes through the catacomb, and an indescribable monster appears from these hellish maws to taunt my mortality. Animalistic, instinctive, I cut them down without a second though, drenching myself in the sickening mess of torn flesh and diseased blood.

I know no fear but myself, and traverse the maze thoughtlessly, mindlessly, my only emotion the ferocity with which I destroy. Repugnant in my vicious revelry, I find myself screaming and cursing at the demons, myself falling from the very grace I once held.

The layout becomes a blur, and the faceless creatures take on a humanoid form, subconsciously being projected with my own-- my anger directed at myself for allowing a companion to die, for allowing things to become this convoluted. Irrational in my stupor, my speed and strength are not my own. I grow from the manifest terror held in these walls, the horrors that live within all men incarnated into stone and wood. It fills me with rage, subverting my caution and replacing it with berserk hatred for all things.

All honour leaves me, and I lead the creatures one-by-one to die at my hands, unearthly screams mingling with my own maniacal laughter -- if it can be called laughter -- as bones crunch beneath my feet like dry branches in fall. I become the epitome of death, the inverted tower changing me, transforming me into one of them. I am a monster, savage and helpless. I hate myself for what I have become; and yet it is beautiful, an amalgamation of everything and nothing, a living paradox. I am death and the undying. I am that which is and will never be.

And then he appears.

Alas, you've overestimated me, Natas. Like ten-headed Ravana, you've neglected a single weakness you never expected to encounter; and in so doing, you've sealed your own fate. You see, my dear King, I am not good. I am everything wrong with this world and everything I despise. I am just like you. Evil to cleanse evil. Death to cleanse death. It's time to do battle within something just as awful as yourself, you heartless bastard.

: Come get some.

If you haven't noticed, Natas is fucking massive. The great part about this boss, however, is that his only weak point is the ORA stone itself, set into his forehead. He'll shoot eyes at you a bunch of times, and try to grab you with his disembodied claws as he rampages around the room, and he hurts like hell.

: ow ow ow ow ow ow

The benefit of being so small is that Natas literally cannot reach above his head to get you. If you stand here and fire away, you have only to move when he swings back around in a predictable pattern, and you won't get hurt much.

After an extremely long time, he'll just suddenly pop into nothing, leaving the ORA stone sitting right where he was.

And with that...

Apparently the real King was actually that fat. I thought it was just because Natas was shoved into a skin suit. VV

Look, I trounced evil. I think you can do one thing for me -- lose some motherfucking weight. I mean God, it's just unhealthy!

You know, from what I saw, there are about 10 people left in all of Oddesia. If I didn't show up to the party, it would be pretty lame. After all, most of your friends and family are dead, what's worth celebrating? Tyranny and liquor?

And so the adventure ends. Jesus is, once again, alone and celibate. Luckily, he'll always have something by which he can remember his dear Mary: a raging case of genital herpes and a burning sensation that runs through his urethra every time he pees.

He just calls it love.

THE END (for real this time)

Next Time: Alternate ending?! No way!