Friday, June 15, 2012

What not to do post-mortem

Just about everyone is dead, and one of the two main characters has died and come back, so I must be nearing the end. Mor's death and resurrection was the first nod to the supernatural in a game that up to that point had been all about rape, betrayal and necrophilia. You know, real problems.

Mors and Alester had caught up with the main bad guy and instead of starting an all out brawl with him and his men (which they would have lost) Mors challenged him to one on one combat. This worked out better for me, as Mors could do so much damage in two hits that no previous victims had survived. The boss lived, sort of, as after each repetition the fight stopped and he talked for a while. I do not think the writers thought this was possible, as each cut scene had Mors huffing and puffing while the bad guy strode around, making speeches in true main bad guy fashion, when a few seconds ago it was Mors on top, hacking at that bastard's head and neck with an over sized sword.

This happened three times, until finally it looked like the bad guy (yes, I have forgotten his name and I do not feel like looking it up) actually admitted defeat by summoning a demon to finish the fight for him. This was the first non-human combatant that I had seen, and even though it was present only in the cut scene its presence was certainly jarring. It was not the standard horns and hooves business, either, just a malevolent shadow that appeared from behind and stabbed Mors in the back. For a moment, I was impressed, but that passed quickly.

After the battle was over and all the bad guys were dead Alester found Mors' corpse, administered last rites in his own, fire laden way, and finished the ritual by kissing Mors right on the lips. Never one to put up with that touchy, feely bullshit Mors sat up and asked Alester what the hell he was doing. Part of that last sentence did not actually happen, but it would have been better if it did. Mors barely acknowledges that he was dead, instead swearing vengeance against just about everyone.

The wheels have come off and the car is still moving, sliding along with a hideous momentum, right towards a wall that will not forgive its hubris. I am just along for the ride.


I wish I was joking about the necrophilia. The fate of Alester's sister, post beheading, says otherwise.

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