Gather 'round the deathfire, and let me tell you a harrowing tale of darkness, monsters, and garbage. Stuffed with so much luck and stupidity that this game could’ve been successfully simplified to a coin flip, and crampacked with horror and agony with each turn! Grab some snacks and huddle close, hellspawn, as I tell you the thrilling adventure of Last Afternoon: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Paddo.
It was standard protocol for the midday in Shar; kill some lizards, die a few times; the routine was wearing down on me as a 400-year-old child of destruction. Heading back to my magnificent and morbid abode I was met by a peddler of sorts, touting that his powders and salves invigorate mind and body alike. Tired of conventional extravagance, I took his entire stock and left his writhing corpse on the wayside, a testament to my vicious nature and empty wallet.
I was no beacon of moderation, and I began to consume all the assorted “medicine” inside my unwatered bathtub. Lucid and stoic, I rose out from the bathroom, and felt an overwhelming, unusual happiness pervade through my whole being. Joy turned to confusion and anger, however, as I saw my double laugh menacingly in the middle of my garden. For the first time, I faced an internal conflict with sickle and censer. As I bravely retreated into the bedroom closet, I began to fashion a group of allies willing to rabble-rouse in the name of hallucinations. Where these creatures came from I have not yet discovered, but together we were destined to fight my inner demons and send the vermin back to double hell!
As my other self began barging through my balcony door, I began my perilous assault by summoning a fiercely loyal Jaxi, and subsequently killing him, a classic maneuver. It was not enough, however, as my plan was effectively stifled by my right brain summoning a melange of weak and pitiful monsters all over my kitchen tile and wracking my body with pain! Seeing how I just dusted the countertops not two days ago, I erupted in unholy fury and began to kill and convert her precious minions. Taken aback, she stumbled down into my garage, formulating my demise. Quivering with unrighteous fervor, I exerted by 2/3 full power into summoning a screaming fast warrior with a sexy passion for the number 6. Happy to do anything other than maintenance work, he shambled up my driveway until he felt an unnatural fatigue as his affection for shrouds slowed him down.
Seething with frustration and madness, I began to paint my back lawn a brilliant shade of lavender, so bright and majestic that my twin writhed in agony, not used to any colors lighter than dark purple. With my reasoning stunted, I was actually surprised when my strategy worked. Seeing how we were connected, however, my double prepared her own brand of toxic paint, and threw a heaping gallon of maroon all over my only friend, killing him instantly. My feet backpedaled into the office as I began to recuperate, summoning all manner of healing to de-stress after she subsequently threw a second bucket of paint and made modern art of my favorite Reaper. What I didn’t expect, however, was a third can, hidden away in some realm unknown, and while I was relaxing in the den, checking up on some Shim’zar updates, reverie turned to misery as I saw my couch turn crimson, completely throwing off the feng shui of the entire room. The nerve of me!
Flagellating myself over this stylistic abomination, my mind lay on the verge of collapse, my only solace being that Sharian Law dictates a maximum of three gallons of paint per person. Lurching myself down into the basement, I called upon more healers to feed me ice cream and renew my sanity. Cass 2.0 trembled ever closer, opening my porch door. Soon, she would be upon me. In my feeble desperation, I flung another coat of lavender paint on the exterior wall, but still she moved closer with blinding standard movement. With all options exhausted, I began to pray and kneel to the old gods for assistance, and in my solemn reverence Pandora corporealized all over my 44" TV. As gracious as I was, her crusade proved unstoppable, summoning some of her dirtbag traitorous sisters as a last attempt to shatter my fragile soul. Cornered and broken, in one final attempt to appease the old gods, I called to the heavens to end my torment.
And behold! From the miasmatic skies the clouds did break, as Paddo, in his infinite glory, shoved aside sister New Gods One and Twenty and fell unto my home, causing considerable irreparable structural damage and shoving my hallucination straight into the laundry room. As she shrieked at the lilac painted walls, I rejoiced in my wisdom to splatter bleach all over my dark purple wallpaper. Merciless slaughter of my immediate family filled my heart with dark glee and excitement, as it was taboo to kill your sisters this time of year. Tide turning, my friends and I began to slowly destroy her. After a while, a lesser goddess, known as the Grailmaster, unceremoniously found herself flung into the red paint after she did absolutely nothing like the sack of crap she is.
In the end, myself and I danced the minuet of war all around my house for a few hours. It was my true self reigning over my worse self, it seemed, as she died the slow death that all nemeses eventually do. My inner demons were ground to dust.
Coming to, I found myself lying dazed, broken, smiling, in my bathtub, the last surviving furniture in my smouldering crater of a house, mechanical footsteps abounding on what was my kitchen floor. With a bow and a thanks, I converted to the god of chaos. Paddo lay on his golden, misshapen throne, and in discrete whispers, I could almost feel him rouse a craving I lost hours ago. Just outside, a peddler was searching for customers, selling his exotic powders and salves…
[Will post video proof of story soon]