“So you just endured a long, soul-killing week of nonstop 4.0s at the AMG Forced Labor Emporium and need to get away from a certain cadre of overrating hack reviewers. You get home, kick off the war boots, seize a large tankard of ale, a larger goblet of hobo wine, and sit down for a relaxed sampling of Black Soul Horde’s latest platter of epic/trve sword-worship, Horrors from the Void. And what happens? You get unexpectedly tentacle smacked across the face, chest, and ham hocks by slimy Lovecraftian horrors from beyond space and time.” Tendril innsmouth disease.
