BulletMagnet
unread,May 27, 2009, 11:54:11 PM5/27/09Sign in to reply to author
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to Sporeum Escape Pod
Ooh, I remember when I started Oblivion. There I was, bright-eyed and
scaly-tailed, marching off into the wilderness with a newly sharpened
short sword and some funky rusty/fur armour combo. Man, I was swish.
I stumbled across an ancient white-marble ruin, and discovered a
spiral staircase descending into some sort of plinth with a heavy door
over a dark portal. I strolled inside, as any intrepid young
adventurer with saved game slots would, and set about hunting for
loot.
I was set upon by the odd ghost, who were impervious to all but my
single weenie flame spell, but I dispatched them no problem. The
warmth and light must have carried far, however, as soon the dark
halls and tunnels were ringing with the guttural, wheezing groans and
growls of the undead.
I immediately found myself staring down the largest enemy horde I had
ever seen in this game. A score or more of juicy zombies, not
skeletons, limping and lunging towards me with surprising speed. I
drew my blade and instantly regretted it, for the action extinguished
my torch and plunged the crypt into total darkness.
I must admit, it was at this point that my courage failed me. An about
turn and I was fleeing at top speed, clumsily switching back to my
torch as I did so. The place seemed to have changed shaped since I
made my ill-advised entrance, for it had become an indecipherable
labyrinth. Eventually, several health points and healing spells later,
I had miraculously made it outside again. Glorious daylight! Though
even as I admired the abundant natural light, open spaces and things
conspicuously either living or properly dead, I took note of the
lateness of the hour and the dimming skies. Suddenly, my health took a
massive hit: my armour was affording less protection than it should
had done what with the beating I took underground, and my flesh bore
the brunt of the assault. Turning around with mounting dread, I found
myself face to face with a familiar decomposing visage. I slashed,
blocked and flamed as much as I could, but the abomination was none
the worse for wear.
Suddenly the space behind it was filled with the legions of
reinforcements I had only just narrowly escaped from. Undead dungeon
foes? LEAVING the dungeon? And in pursuit of ME? I ran. Oh yes indeed,
I ran. And fortunately, I was faster than the beasts. Before long, as
the moon crept up into a starry sky, they were far behind me. I set
about seeking a place to rest for the night, when I heard screams.
Hurrying to their source, eager to repel goblins or werebears from
innocent villagers, I encountered only the recently dead, and the long
dead. The zombie horde I had disturbed miles away had followed me all
the way here. There was no way I could fight back, no way I could
avenge my fallen comrades or prevent the same from happening to others
wandering these quiet roads tonight. Once again, my only option was to
flee. And fly I did.
I needed somewhere with walls. Somewhere with guards! Somewhere I
could seek aid and support against the abomination. Kvatch? Chorrol? I
was well and truly lost. But before dawn I had indeed stumbled across
the first suitable settlement, passing over various huts, camps and
farms, muttering short prayers to myself for those who inhabited them,
and were soon to be visited by horrors second only to the Daedra
themselves. I hurried around the outer walls, scouting for what seemed
like an age before I found the entrance. Just as the sun's first rays
peaked over the horizon, the howls of dungeon zombies became audible
once more. Despite my frantic urgings I could find no one who would
hear, listen or heed my warnings, my call to arms.
And then they fell upon us.
The horrors I witnessed that morning. Just... the horrors.