Darkest Dungeon: New Arcana

Against my better judgement, no matter how inane and flawed it is, I figured I might just do a little thread on the Darkest Dungeon. I’ll be playing it and naming characters after the membership on the site. So it’s more or less just another shitty Let’s Play, go figure. Been a while since I last played the game, so I'll be going into this semi-dark. This whole thing won’t have a set-schedule. So I’ll just do it whenever I got the time or when I feel like I got time to kill. So I’ll introduce what the game is.

Darkest Dungeon is a heavily RNG-driven Dungeon-based RPG that will emasculate you faster than a Chinese eunuch got his “yang bells” cut off. Difficult, yet it has an atmosphere that can be well appreciated if you’re into Lovecraftian stories, a voice narrator that makes you want to copulate with his beautiful voice, and has some very simple and unique gameplay of its own right. The player must learn to manage the physical and mental health of their mercenaries in a glorious bloody and horrifying crusade in order to, I quote:

Quote :

to bring light back to the most god-forsaken corner of the world - a corner that only got as fucked as it was because your ancestor was a dick and unearthed shit that was better left alone.

The descendant of said ancestor, who I will affectionally dub as Philemon, is tasked to hire a bunch of mercenaries to take back her land. Why? Well, remember how it was fucked? A bunch of hooligans with fluid dickery to occupy what is rightfully hers, a coterie of ravenous rip-your-throat-out monsters, and a menagerie of mind-breaking degenerate horrors all have begun to infest the hamlet and the area around it. But of course, Philemon, with her kind and blessed heart, wants to bring back anything that have the faintest resemblance of hope to this unrepentant shithole.  

God save her soul.

So two ways to play this: treat your characters like used condoms or treat them like your own spawned offspring. They’re both difficult ways to play. The former considering they’ll die a lot and  you’d have to keep replacing them. The latter because you’ll have to sacrifice a shitload. You’ll see what I mean.


Out of the stagecoach and onto the soft earth of this living hell. Your first two mercs are working as part of your ambitious and horrendously unwise campaign to cleanse your ancestral line of the horrors set free in the past. Some of your employees came here for the daily paycheck, others came here to fulfill their moral inclinations to free the world of evil with one fired bullet or one sword swing at a time. But they all came here willing to throw themselves in harm’s way. I present you our first two sacrifices, Grantus and Kahn.


They take their first steps onto this cesspool of degeneracy after they survived a stagecoach crash because the Caretaker apparently aspires to be a driver that rivals the dopeness of Snoop Dogg high on that delicious kush. And he conveniently fucks off elsewhere, leaving us alone to deal with the shittery ahead. How nice of him.

The hamlet is ahead, but their path is blocked by a forest infested with brigands and monsters. Just as they were minding their own business, they get to enjoy the company of this shithole’s inhabitant trying to say hi by shivving you with his butter knife.


Grantus and Kahn kick his ass to the curb, no biggie. Like the gracious gentleman he is, Grantus returns the bandit’s greeting with friendly repeated and aggravated stabbings because red always goes well with everything. Amirite? Kahn finishes off by showing off what law school taught him, with a litigation to the face. Turns out all that book reading and those sleepless nights have been paying off, good on him.


Now they’re free to try to head to festering degenerate of a hamlet. But not before they help themselves to wonderful goodies in their recent neighbor’s tent. Because what? You don’t murder your neighbor in the face and sneak into their home to steal their worthless shit as a respectful human custom? You uncultured swine, what have you been doing until then?


After taking what everything of meagre worth from that dinky tent, our heroes find themselves meeting more of the hamlet’s inhabitants. Clearly, they were such lovable people to the first, word got out that they were great people. Gran starts off with by busting a cap while Kahn decides to make himself look more presentable by suiting up. But as usual, all happy things come to an end and thus our visitors departed six feet under. Trust me, don't touch this. Good thing that Grantus can disease resist now.


So they're finally home and yup, it's a dilapidated shithole alright. If New Arcana ever had the misfortune to close down, this is what we will all see as we look back. Might have more crudely drawn 'Where's Rinna' memes and some scribbling of desperate and degenerate waifu-ism's. Oh well, I digress.

Our heroes finally arrive bloody and full of grime. As they set their eyes on the ruins of what was left of Philemon's ancestral line, what kind of thoughts could be racing within their skulls? In the midst of their silent reflection, insidious dangers lurk and bide their time with deadly cunning. In the abyss, what horrors await them in the future?

Let me guess, there will be a Jester named Azami?

Bounty Hunter maybe?

I'm going to assume that there will be a Vestal named Maria.