Sporistics
Ardok Trang / Analysis
By Nethellus
10/27/2009 - 18:49:52
Type: Puzzle adventure
Rating: 0.48 (Not rated)
Featuring...
Basic info
Intro message:
Water runs muddy and gray. The grass and leaves stick like flypaper. This is Ardok Trang, and there is no color, only ruins. Monoliths of doubt. Is there even a way to enter this legend?
Water runs muddy and gray. The grass and leaves stick like flypaper. This is Ardok Trang, and there is no color, only ruins. Monoliths of doubt. Is there even a way to enter this legend?
Win message:
There is no treasure here, only the story of Ardok Trang and his people. That was the mystery, and it is solved, leaving me with nothing but a feeling of emptiness. What a fool I am.
There is no treasure here, only the story of Ardok Trang and his people. That was the mystery, and it is solved, leaving me with nothing but a feeling of emptiness. What a fool I am.
Lose message:
The ruins of Ardok Trang have claimed my life. My obsession proving fatal. What a fool I am.
The ruins of Ardok Trang have claimed my life. My obsession proving fatal. What a fool I am.
Acts
ACT 1 : Monoliths of Doubt
Water runs muddy and gray. The grass and leaves stick like flypaper. This is Ardok Trang, and there is no color, only ruins. Monoliths of doubt. Is there even a way to enter this legend?
Water runs muddy and gray. The grass and leaves stick like flypaper. This is Ardok Trang, and there is no color, only ruins. Monoliths of doubt. Is there even a way to enter this legend?
ACT 2 : Resting Gate
With a metallic thud the ground quivers. Ripples travel through untouched waters, stirring tangled weeds and mire. The pillars have awakened, but as to their machinations, I can not say.
With a metallic thud the ground quivers. Ripples travel through untouched waters, stirring tangled weeds and mire. The pillars have awakened, but as to their machinations, I can not say.
ACT 3 : Face of the Evening
What the hell?
What the hell?
ACT 4 : The Map
When it spoke its voice carried not through my ears, but through my mind. Whispers like polished bone sifting sand, ice cold hatred, the chill of the drafts piping these halls. Breathing.
When it spoke its voice carried not through my ears, but through my mind. Whispers like polished bone sifting sand, ice cold hatred, the chill of the drafts piping these halls. Breathing.
ACT 5 : Foundations of Straw
The triangle is again set, the map has been read and understood but it is not rewarding. A stench is rising from the water. Something old and rotten has no doubt been disturbed by the machine.
The triangle is again set, the map has been read and understood but it is not rewarding. A stench is rising from the water. Something old and rotten has no doubt been disturbed by the machine.
ACT 6 : The Path Traveled
In a cloud of billowing smoke it is gone, like it was never there, and perhaps it never was. I don't know what to expect, but one thing is certain: I will not stop.
In a cloud of billowing smoke it is gone, like it was never there, and perhaps it never was. I don't know what to expect, but one thing is certain: I will not stop.
ACT 7 : Memorial
It is cold. My breath escapes me in a white crystal mist. There is no doubt about it, these halls are untouched by time.
It is cold. My breath escapes me in a white crystal mist. There is no doubt about it, these halls are untouched by time.
ACT 8 : Ardok Trang
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Contact us at
