A Minor List of Concerning Game Flaws
The Marauder wakes up in a back alley of Oriath, nursing a wicked hangover and covered in spaghetti sauce.
"What happened?" "You tried to fight the Dark Chef Kitava." Sin was here, still trying to get the sauce out of his feathers. The Marauder briefly wondered if barbeque sauce... but no. Sin was a friend, not food. "Did I win?" "..." Sin glanced at the massive pile of spent spaghetti and broken utensils. "Did I... almost win?" "Not really no." "Darn." "You shall have to walk your path once again, and powerlevel like the dickens." The Marauder nodded, and motioned for Sin to pick him up so they could fly around. Let's gooooo! ...getting off the boat, his scowl was set. Harrumph. It turns out that Nessa tried the seafood course herself, but it ended in disaster. Her legs now replaced with a mermaid's tail, she swam the seas in search of better seafood recipes, to make up for her mistake. Turkey, however, insisted that she owed him 20 chaos orbs, and those don't come cheap. So the Marauder went in search of her, and her considerable debt. It was to some dismay that he learned the ancient cooking gods of old had returned. Tukohama, the master of Warm, smote the ground and raised powerful space heaters to sizzle the air. But the Marauder, tempered by the fires of the true cooking way, brought down meatballs far warmer than Tukohama could endure. Sin showed up, mainly to drink Tukohama's beer and rifle through his pockets for loose change. "I found his recipe book. You want it?" And so Tukohama's legacy continued onward. Sin tasked the Marauder with defeating the three disciples of Malachi, as they too had been powerleveling. "Why?" "I don't like them, and I'm the one assigning the homework." Shavronne complained that this was teacher favoritism, but the Marauder had learned to summon Rock Candy of his own from the Highgate gourmands, and thus could regenerate all of his wounds in record time. Abberath, the master of Salsa, was next. He brought all the goats to the yard, but the Marauder stayed his course. The goats ate well, and declared him to be the winner, and Abberath went and sulked at the bar. It's not his fault his boots got nerfed. Ryslatha, the master of Herbs, delcared that she was the greatest of chefs. But it turns out that she was just throwing whatever she wanted into the pot to cover up the fact her ingredients were made of ground up yeerks. "Isn't this a copyright problem?" "Our yeerks are homegrown, and do not come from space." The Marauder nodded, and accepted this. He still ground them up into a fine stir-fry, but it was the principle of the matter you see. Ryslatha had no counter to one who was resistant to her chaos, and so she folded. Nessa was back, hanging out at Tsoagoth's pad. She declared that the true art of seafood was cojoining yourself to a giant crab, which really didn't make much sense to the Marauder. She seemed to have fun with it though, and they danced the dance of cooking. Then the crab exploded, which kinda put a damper on the whole thing. "I got us a boat." declared Sin. "You're never going to let me fly around, are you?" "Not really, no." And so the seafood was conquered once more. |
|
The Marauder returned to Phrecia, but everyone was sitting outside in the rain.
"It's Groot, you see. He threw everyone out of the clubhouse, declared that there were No Girls Allowed." But Groot's walls were long and tall, covered in cheaply made pico de gallo. And so the Marauder first went to check out the pad of Maligaro, the second apprentice chef. "Have you ever tried eating spiders?" "I don't like where this is heading." "Spiiiiiders." And so the Marauder kicked Maligaro out for cleanliness violations, because that's gross. He had the house key to Groot's pad though, so the Marauder figured he might as well do a public service and see what the commotion was all about. "No one is allowed in the fort! It's my fort. I found it first!" And the Marauder threw meatballs at his face until he was dead. Sin showed up, which was about as close as you could get to the cops showing up, but he didn't really mind. Maybe next time you'll learn to share. Gruthkul, the master of Ambiance was next. "What does that have to do with cooking?" "Cooking can only be accomplished when your soul is covered in darkness!" The Marauder calmly replaced her grunge music with something lighter and softer, and she was unable to keep up the power of her emo urges. Yeena was pleased with all the fireflies the Marauder had gathered for his next dish, but insisted that he carry them all himself. "Why?" "It's funny." The marauder looked at his stash of portal scrolls, and sighed. The burdens one must bear to save cooking. He finally managed to get her to eat the things though, upon which she turned into a fox. "This wasn't in the cookbook." "Most things aren't." "I hope this is legal." "I won't tell if you won't." And so they set out to get rid of the rest of the spiders. Silk protested, for he was a Maligaro fanboy and had all his merchandise, but then his girlfriend ate him. "Wow rude." In the end, meatballs prevailed, and the kitchens of Phrecia were able to pass inspection once more. "Spiders, really. Next you'll tell me that Sarn is covered in rats." "Oh please that would never happen. They have standards there." Last edited by SuperTaster on Sep 9, 2019, 9:50:29 PM
|
|
The rats giggled happily as green stuff floated through the air.
"Yeah I'm going back to Phrecia." Yeena, ever faithful, noped it right out of there. Doedre gurgled strange things, but mainly pointed to the menu that said "Eat Anything you Like!" And so the Marauder taught her about standards, and washing your dishes immediately rather than letting them sit in the sink, and generally how to run a good kitchen. She didn't get it though, and exploded. "That seems to happen a lot." "It just means you're getting through to them." His meat tenderizer was now quite covered in spluck though, and even the deepest of scouring orbs couldn't keep it clean. He needed an upgrade. "Panquetzaliztli!" says Navali. "See a doctor!" says the Marauder. It was a very good implement though, and he spread the meatballs all throughout Sarn. The city, it seemed, was split in an eternal cooking battle between the Meaty Entrees of Solaris and the Decadent Desserts of Lunaris. None could actually sit down to eat, for they were locked in conflict over which course came first in the meal. To the Solarians, the Marauder brought deep-fried cooking, tender meats grilled to perfection in the lasers of their ribbon ovens. To the Lunarians, the Marauder brought a slow purifying flame, mainly because one of them hit him a little too hard and triggered his damage threshold. "Sorry about that. It doesn't really care what sets it over the limit." Still, he would have to face the two in cooking combat. Tempers were flaring, the pasta sizzled, but in the end it was the Marauder who won the duel. They made sure to visit Yugul, the master of Soda before leaving town. "Why is he so far out of the way?" "He thought that by hiding, he could avoid facing you in combat." "Reasonable. Too bad he has a quest reward for killing him." "Yeah that kinda ruins it." Yugul brought forth many fizzing concoctions, and spread gas bubbles all across the field. But lo, the Marauder chugged it whole, and belched a firey fume that saw him the victor. "Darn," said Sin. "The Dank Den is closed." "Why?" "Tora, the old master, was run out of town for selling illicit Surgeon's Flasks." "Alas." |
|
The journey quickly became marinated as the aqueducts appeared to be completely full of spaghetti sauce.
"This is going to be my fault somehow." The Highgaters were pleased to see their cooking idol return to them, though admittedly they were in a bit of a bind. "So you know the great mountain heart? We thought we could try cooking it like you did!" "And what did you learn?" "...that mankind cannot live on spaghetti alone. We probably shouldn't have replaced the water supply with chunky tomato sauce." "Very good. Now that you understand, clean it all up." "...why?" And so the Marauder left Highgate quickly, before the whole Lake Full of Spaghetti really could be blamed on him. "If you see Kira out there, tell her she's a douche!" The Marauder took the lesson to heart, but said nothing. It was best to wiggle away from this hot mess. Shakari, master of the Gravy was next. "Sin why is your daughter a giant scorpion?" "To be honest I thought it was just going to be a phase too." Shakari attempted to drag the Marauder down into a sea of gravy, but this only strengthened his resolve. The result was quite delicious, though Shakari was too dead to appreciate this. "This is awkward." "Eh, she knew what she was getting into when she joined the Scorpion club in school." And thus the Marauder confirmed that Sin was not going to win Parent of the Year. Kira was chilling at the pad of Garukhan, master of the Blender. "What did you do to piss off the Highgaters?" "I may have killed Oyun and dragged her body out here to give to my new girlfriend." "Wow rude." And so they fought. Garukhan had turned the entire living room into a giant blender, filling it with rock candy and assorted sand dishes. Even though the Marauder could not see his foes, his meatballs were so numerous that they could not help but smack their faces. And so the culinary conquest was completed. "Sorry about your ex." But Sin was too busy rifling through her pockets for loose change to care. This was the last collectible God Coin he needed to finish the set! And she had it all along. Clever, but not clever enough. "So Oyun's dead." "Darn." "I found this feather though. Who wants it?" "Me!" "Mememee...!" The Marauder, lacking the social graces required of a politician, merely threw the feather at whomever was closest to him at the time. He got to eat a book of skill in return anyway, so clearly it was the right choice. Sin, having borrowed some wicked liquor from the Basilisk, waved the Marauder over. "Okay okay. One last test. You're gonna go back to the mountain heart, and have a battle royale with the other three chefs." "But they're already dead." "That has never stopped you ever." The Marauder nodded, though he was a bit concerned for his friend Sin. Was that Trarthan Powder on his nose? Dubious, if true. Sin seemed to be having a blast though, talking with food that no one else could see. The three chefs complained bitterly about being murdered again, but the Marauder insisted. "My final creation shall be a mixed drink," he said, as he blended them all together. The thing wiggled and jiggled. The worst jello shot, and immediately he felt regret. "No. This cannot be." Sin gave it top marks though, right before they both blacked out from the smell. When they awoke, they were at the boat. "Convenient." "You're the only paying customer I have." "We have to pay?" "Oops." Last edited by SuperTaster on Sep 10, 2019, 1:19:41 AM
|
|
Back in Oriath, the Dark Chef Kitava had taken control of the town. Meat simmered in the streets, chicken and beef mixed together. Not a vegetable in sight.
"I have returned to right this great wrong." Lani sipped her beer, casually noting "You're a few weeks too late." Her tone became happier when the Marauder got her boyfriend off the roof. "How did you get stuck up there?" "I don't remember, so it must have been fun." Alas, they were locked out of the kitchen. "Innocence had the keys." "Where did he go?" "I think Bannon ate him." "Awkward." And so they found a large stick to poke Bannon with until he vomited up his deity. He did not survive, but to be fair it was his own fault for ingesting strange glowing people. "I live once more!" "Where's your keys bro?" "You're always so needy." The Marauder ventured forth into the kitchens, braving the stench and ichor. Kitava was pretty chuffed to have a paying customer for once. "Do you like what I've done with the place?" "This is foul, dark cooking made raw!" "Rules don't control us, man. Let the pasta age, like a fine wine." "That is not how sauce works!" "Oh yeah? Fight me then." The Marauder did so, bringing all his training to fruition. He stood upon the cutting board, and vowed that he would not be just another cut of sirloin. Meatballs flew, Warchefs tenderized, and even Kitava's secret flame-vomit salsa could not hope to stem the tide. Then Kitava's heart fell out. "..." "<.<" "Could you help me put that back in?" "No! This is why you wear an apron!" And thus the Marauder cooked the greatest dish ever, from the dark chef's own beating heart. "Wow rude." The Marauder did not even need to look at the explosion. Last edited by SuperTaster on Sep 10, 2019, 12:44:54 AM
|
|
" This is brilliant, bravo. | |
The Marauder stood over the cleaned kitchen of Oriath. It had been a hard, long journey, but it was worth it.
Where could he go though? How could he hone his skill further, when even the Dark Chef had fallen beneath his tenderizer? "Whakawairua Tuahu!" said Zana. "Now you're just making up words!" said the Marauder. It was a reasonable place, if a bit dark though. Islands trapped between the freezer and the skillet, where even stronger enemies could emerge. Stronger enemies, but also stronger allies. He entreated with Niko, the master of Mashed Potatoes. "So I've got some tunnels that need work. Lots of food for the miners. There's some blue stuff down there, we use it to make Powerade." The Marauder shook his head. "I fear this requires a delicate touch. My meals are full of passion, and would not go down smoothly in the sensitive stomach of your mountain." And so he hooked Niko up with a Duelist who knew Cyclone, and they got along pretty well up until the point where Niko started becoming one with the mashed potatoes. He entreated with Alva, the master of Leftovers. "It's not about what you can make. It's about what you can make again!" The Marauder tested this, but he only got a Sacrificial Heart from the course. "Oh good," he said. "I will put it with all the other hearts I have collected." "Why do you have a collection of hearts?" "Cooking is heart work." And he was never allowed in Alva's kitchen again. He entreated with Jun, the master of Mystery Meat. "It's better if your foods are a secret. You don't know what you'll get until you open it up!" She handed him an amulet, and expected him to eat it. He did though, and had to admit the mods were not bad. "Could you put these in a cookbook for easy replication?" "Oh god no. That would ruin the fun." And so he entreated with Helena, the master of Writing Down Your Recipes. "Oh yeah, I can totally turn those veiled mods into proper courses." Jun complained bitterly, and shouted slander about how Helena wasn't a real master of cooking. The fight ended quickly however, when Helena threatened to kick Jun out of her cool clubhouses. He entreated once again with Zana, the master of Ingredients. "So I've been hoping you could help me with my father, the Shaper." "I am a chef, not a therapist." "That's fine. He just has some noodles stuck on his beard?" "..." "I think they are his beard by this point." The marauder agreed, if only to right this terrible wrong. It soon became clear that this Shaper was being stalked by a spaghetti monster. "Why are the noodles coming out of the ground?" "Because that is how noodles grow in the dream realms. Did you not learn this in cooking school?" The Marauder silently accepted this oddness, as it was easier than admitting that he had murdered two entire continents to make up for his lack of formal culinary education. The Shaper was eventually found hugging the Spaghetti Monster. "We are one with the noodles!" "Father no!" "At last, a battle that makes sense." And so, with the most eldritch of noodles, the Marauder did make spaghetti that stood the test of time. He was disappointed with the lame drop though, and vowed to come back the next time he had the right ingredients. Last edited by SuperTaster on Sep 10, 2019, 1:06:49 AM
|
|
Bravo! Standing ovation for the new Bronze Age Chef.
I usually order medium rare, but this time I'm pleased to say "well done." | |
There's an awful lot of food references in here...
Super, are you on a diet? jk In act 7, we meet Sin in the Bridge Encampment. Sin: "My divine x-ray vision into the fabric of reality fails to show me where Maligaro hid himself. Actually, that isn't quite true. I watched him for decades, tattooing a clever little microcosm in a certain part of his anatomy. He has gone to ground, in short, where it is brown. That said, mortal, this is where you come in. I don't, uh, understand the topology at play here. Either he has turned himself inside out and walks upon his lower intestinal tract like a fly on a string of sausages...or uh, something akin to a Klein bottle is going on. Ask Helena. She's seen some shit. I mean, in the metaphorical sense. Maybe also in the literal sense, and that means she knows where the map is. I'll just be sitting here shooting the breeze with Weylam about the knockers on the girls in town." [19:36]#Mirror_stacking_clown: try smoke ganja every day for 10 years and do memory game
| |
Best thread I've seen in a while :)
We're all in this leaky boat together, people.
|