A man who failed his men , a musician that had the last laugh, a doctor who bares the weight of the atrocities she performed on her deceased mentor, And a flames be damned orphan Walk into a tavern one day….
I like how each of the heroes has their own personality here. Like the Man-at-arms gives off the vibe he knows whats coming up and is used to it. The runaway is bothered by some memory. The jester is hesitant, like the lute would help everyone but the melancholy dislikes being disturbed and the Plague doctor is burying herself in her books. So much is conveyed just them sitting at this table.
Same goes for the other characters: Dismas the Highwayman has a similar expression to Bonnie, the Runaway, except his head is even more looking down, propably his memory is much more recent. Audrey the Grave Robber is sitting completely tucked away with crossed arms, shutting herself off from the pain. Boudica the Hellion is sitting upright with raised spear, basically telling: "I am ready and waiting." Baldwin the Leper somehow sits even more upright than Boudica while his sword is pointing down. Not only carrying the same grace he had as a king, but also basically telling: "Rest is important. Lets enjoy these calm moments." And Alhazred the Occultist is staring at the flame on his skull candle, propably meditating or keeping the void in his soul at bay.
Just imagine all (current) heroes in the inn like that , and the jester play this music while everone is depress , one of them look at the window , next stop, the mountain...
This soundtrack nails it when it comes to perfectly illustrate the atmosphere of the in-game's circumstances. There is no true relaxation. The overall melancholic tune perfectly fits the tragic world that surrounds the inn, with a touch of dread and uncanny, reminding you that after the night, you go straight back into the hellscape. It manages to make me actually care and worry about the 4 fictional heroes I see sitting in the chairs.
Wrote the entire last 3/4 of a research paper to this-- can say that despite being stressed out it really put me at ease and made it easier to concentrate. I am sincerely appreciative of the music Chatwood comes up with.
Yinny, I'm starting a research paper now and found this music for my proposal. Seems helpful at this early stage.... "The task ahead is terrible, and weakness cannot be tolerated" lol
The melody of this feels so familiar, as though I've heard it dozens of times somewhere, far off in my past. Before Darkest Dungeon 2 was even a fragment of a thought...
When madness becomes the status quo, when chaos and degeneracy replace order and civility, a place that harbors the sane becomes akin to a safehouse for criminals, secret and unwelcoming to all but a handful. In these precious few beacons of light in the darkness that's swallowing the world, you will earn a temporary reprieve from the mecca of madness and morbidity that has stained the rest of the land. Blow off some steam, augment your skills, and relax as much as you can before your journey continues. Some might be tempted to stay permanently, but you cannot go back to hiding now that ruin has finally found you. To attempt to hide again would further endanger what few survivors are barely holding the fort down here now, and you don't need ANOTHER grand failure plaguing your conscience...
Man this gives me that Resident evil safe room feel but more fantasy medievil dark twist to it. Its like the ultimate rest up whats coming next wont hold back you must keep going.
There are special types of inns with special effects on top of the regular healing to half health and reducing stress by 1: "The Shambler's Altar" guarantees scouting for academic's studies and grants 1 random quirk "The Vestal's Secret" gives 2 random quirks "The Miller's Bounty" has cheaper supplies than the rest There are others but idc to say more
I remember not having the greatest of days at one point, my mother sitting beside me doin what she could to comfort me. So, I decided to simply play this, needless to say, it definitely helped.
Safety, for now. The inn is the only place where you may upgrade heroes, the stagecoach, and use inn items, such as food. If you have any dead heroes, then you will get replacements from your unused heroes at the inn, assuming you have any left. You may choose to end a run early once you reach the inn and keep all items obtained. This is important, as if your party is wiped out, you will lose all the candles you have picked up that are not in your bag. The Bounty Hunter may also offer his services. In exchange for some candles, he will replace one of your party members (your choice) for one area. The Bounty Hunter has no past, is professional, so he will not get positive nor negative relationships (he can still get stressed, though), and is rather strong, not only having powerful moves, but being able to fit in any party. The party member that the Bounty Hunter replaced will meet you at the next inn.
So I thought about it, seeing Runaway and Highwayman tend to have similar sort of poses with their hands in the inn. It kinda becomes funny when you imagine that its a dad basically having just had a row with their kid so they're both being moody lol
Something was wrong with the Flame. Bonnie wasn't sure when it had started to weaken. It had been brighter before the incident in the Dreaming General's keep; of that she was certain. By the time Bonnie had left the Sluice, it was like the Flame was afflicted with a disease. No matter how much oil, tar, coal, and spirits she had fed to the sconce, its Flame only sputtered and languished. When she brought the sconce into the Inn and lit the hearth, the firewood scarcely seemed to take. She watched the logs sizzle and blacken rapidly, but with almost no heat or light. Like the fuel was being consumed by something else altogether. It unnerved Bonnie. She tried to focus on her work. She didn’t need much light for that, at least. Her hands knew the motions. The Mountain lay ahead. Tomorrow she'd go there. The Innkeeper had provided her with a plentitude of supplies: gunpowder, wicks, fuses, and any flammable that she asked for. When Bonnie approached the Mountain, the stagecoach would be laden with explosives, and she herself was heavy with incendiaries, grenades, and every sort of fiery trick she had ever come up with. But by the time she was done crafting ordnance, the Flame in the hearth had shrunk almost to an ember. What was happening to it? She took a vial of lamp oil and poured it over the logs. It spread, soaked into the charred wood, and disappeared. Same for a bottle of spirits; they vanished as if evaporating, but still the light dimmed. Still the darkness and the chill closed in. Bonnie looked out the window, but it was so black out that the windows could be coated in pitch. Or the Inn itself could be sunk in the stuff. The darkness around her felt… thick. More suffocating and oppressive than the smoke from burning rubber. As she breathed in, she envisioned her lungs filling with the same blackness that had swallowed the world, and she grimaced. She needed to get out of here. She took the sconce and began to scoop what remained of the Flame back into it. There was so little heat in the hearth that she used only a gloved hand to ladle the ashes - until she realized that the insulated fabric was fraying and breaking apart. The Flame still hungered, it still consumed, even though it didn’t burn. It was unnatural; it was horribly wrong. Bonnie couldn’t keep herself in the Inn any longer. She gathered her things as quickly as she could, took the dying Flame in its sconce, and crept out the inn’s back door. She wasn’t sure where the Innkeeper was. She wondered if the darkness had consumed him whole, erased him forever. She wondered if that fate awaited everything left in the world, once the Flame perished completely. She found the stagecoach and climbed aboard, not bothering to mount the Flame on the back. Instead she held the sconce in one hand as she shook the horses’ reins to start them moving. “The Mountain awaits,” Bonnie assured herself. She tried to keep her calm by thinking about what foes she might face. She imagined eldritch monstrosities: heaps of inchoate flesh twisted into human-like forms, cackling obscene arcane verse at her and brandishing weapons of made of lightning. She imagined herself charging toward them without fear, her skewer plunging into the largest being’s abdomen and pulling free with a tangle of offal caught on its red-hot barb. She’d faced the Swine. She could face the Mountain’s evil too. Then she remembered what Audrey had said. “When we reach the Mountain, the worst enemy we face there will be ourselves.” As those words echoed in Bonnie’s mind, a chill crept down her spine. She looked down at the Flame, just in time to see the last red-orange petal vanish. And with its death, no light at all remained in the world. Bonnie tried to listen for the horses, but all was silent. All was numb. She remained still for a long time. She couldn’t tell whether she was breathing. Whether she still even existed. She searched for something to hang onto, something, anything to sense at all, anything that could hold back total oblivion from closing over her. Her heartbeat. She felt it in her neck first, then her chest, pounding fearfully. As she focused, it slowed. Calmed. She wondered if it would stop, and it picked up again. Good. She was still alive. She tried to breathe in, and instead of focusing on the sensation of the black air, she tried to listen for it. The voice she heard in front of her startled her enough to make her jump. It was a man’s voice, deep and resonant. Faintly sickly, but powerful and regal all the same. “You are not Audrey,” the voice said. “Where is she? Where are the others?” “They’re… gone,” Bonnie said without thinking. Whoever this man was, he had an air of authority to him. Something that made those around him want to obey his will. “Mm,” the voice grunted. “Doesn’t matter. They were not worthy to enter the Mountain." Bonnie realized that her eyes were shut. When she opened them, she saw a lone figure standing in the darkness. She couldn't see the ground, nor the stagecoach, nor the horses, but she knew he was standing in front of them. He was practically a giant, encased in gilded heavy plate armor, with a white shroud covering his back. His face was hidden behind a strange gilded mask that bore slits for his eyes, but was flat where a nose should protrude. At his side was a broken sword that once must have been longer than Bonnie was tall. Bonnie realized who the man must be. He matched the description that Audrey had given, though he was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to have fallen in the Great Library, left behind by Audrey, Dismas, and Paracelsus as they retreated. “Baldwin?” The man nodded. “You’re not worthy either. So this is where your journey ends, girl.” (planning next for the Mountain)
@@TheGunslinger44 Hey! Really sorry, kinda fell off for a bit. Working on this again, shooting to have it done in the next few days. Truth be told, was taking a break from the game due to waiting for the Act 3 boss to be fixed, so wasn't thinking about this :(
@Tenebrys You are fine, brother. Just wanted you to know you have an audience. A small audience, albeit. But a dedicated one to such a niche story. I am especially looking forward to Baldwin's return as he is my favorite hero.
@@TheGunslinger44 Thanks so much! Really glad you're enjoying the writing stuff! Not sure how it progressed into what I've been doing, but it's nice to know people are following it. I just posted the penultimate chapter. Not sure you'll like what I did to Baldwin.
A man who failed his men , a musician that had the last laugh, a doctor who bares the weight of the atrocities she performed on her deceased mentor, And a flames be damned orphan Walk into a tavern one day….
I like how each of the heroes has their own personality here. Like the Man-at-arms gives off the vibe he knows whats coming up and is used to it. The runaway is bothered by some memory. The jester is hesitant, like the lute would help everyone but the melancholy dislikes being disturbed and the Plague doctor is burying herself in her books. So much is conveyed just them sitting at this table.
Same goes for the other characters:
Dismas the Highwayman has a similar expression to Bonnie, the Runaway, except his head is even more looking down, propably his memory is much more recent.
Audrey the Grave Robber is sitting completely tucked away with crossed arms, shutting herself off from the pain.
Boudica the Hellion is sitting upright with raised spear, basically telling: "I am ready and waiting."
Baldwin the Leper somehow sits even more upright than Boudica while his sword is pointing down. Not only carrying the same grace he had as a king, but also basically telling: "Rest is important. Lets enjoy these calm moments."
And Alhazred the Occultist is staring at the flame on his skull candle, propably meditating or keeping the void in his soul at bay.
Just imagine all (current) heroes in the inn like that , and the jester play this music while everone is depress , one of them look at the window , next stop, the mountain...
And Highwayman's way of sitting just screams "I am so fucking done with this shit"
And what you all say about Occultist and Grave Robber?
"Melancholy dislikes being disturbed" is such a neat phrasing
"A bottle shared is a bond forged." - Leper
This soundtrack nails it when it comes to perfectly illustrate the atmosphere of the in-game's circumstances. There is no true relaxation. The overall melancholic tune perfectly fits the tragic world that surrounds the inn, with a touch of dread and uncanny, reminding you that after the night, you go straight back into the hellscape. It manages to make me actually care and worry about the 4 fictional heroes I see sitting in the chairs.
Wrote the entire last 3/4 of a research paper to this-- can say that despite being stressed out it really put me at ease and made it easier to concentrate. I am sincerely appreciative of the music Chatwood comes up with.
Should nickname him Stuart "Chadwood"
Yinny, I'm starting a research paper now and found this music for my proposal. Seems helpful at this early stage....
"The task ahead is terrible, and weakness cannot be tolerated"
lol
Man, I am literally writing my masters thesis to this.
The melody of this feels so familiar, as though I've heard it dozens of times somewhere, far off in my past. Before Darkest Dungeon 2 was even a fragment of a thought...
reminds me of The Witcher 3 ngl
@@brotherjin2747 Ever played RPGs like Gothic 3 ? Neverwinter Nights ? Arcanum ?
@@brotherjin2747 your right kinda remind me of white orchard
gives me that resident evil safe room feel but with a dark fantasy twist
Reminds me A LOT of The Witcher 3
When madness becomes the status quo, when chaos and degeneracy replace order and civility, a place that harbors the sane becomes akin to a safehouse for criminals, secret and unwelcoming to all but a handful. In these precious few beacons of light in the darkness that's swallowing the world, you will earn a temporary reprieve from the mecca of madness and morbidity that has stained the rest of the land. Blow off some steam, augment your skills, and relax as much as you can before your journey continues. Some might be tempted to stay permanently, but you cannot go back to hiding now that ruin has finally found you. To attempt to hide again would further endanger what few survivors are barely holding the fort down here now, and you don't need ANOTHER grand failure plaguing your conscience...
Man this gives me that Resident evil safe room feel but more fantasy medievil dark twist to it. Its like the ultimate rest up whats coming next wont hold back you must keep going.
Music sounds so sad, and I love it
"How many souls are lost in this lightless obscurity" (music starts)
This while they play the saddest poker game ever, and becoming better friends for it.
"A simple mathematical challenge."
this games music captures the atmosphere so well
Damn Stuart Chatwood is so underrated. Look at this beauty already and more upcoming I suppose.
Not in this channel. Here's a god.
RHS knocked it out of the park with this track. Thank you for the upload.
You don't miss. I swear every one of your uploads hits my playlists.
More are on the way
There are special types of inns with special effects on top of the regular healing to half health and reducing stress by 1:
"The Shambler's Altar" guarantees scouting for academic's studies and grants 1 random quirk
"The Vestal's Secret" gives 2 random quirks
"The Miller's Bounty" has cheaper supplies than the rest
There are others but idc to say more
Thank you for this extension.
I remember not having the greatest of days at one point, my mother sitting beside me doin what she could to comfort me. So, I decided to simply play this, needless to say, it definitely helped.
Safety, for now. The inn is the only place where you may upgrade heroes, the stagecoach, and use inn items, such as food. If you have any dead heroes, then you will get replacements from your unused heroes at the inn, assuming you have any left. You may choose to end a run early once you reach the inn and keep all items obtained. This is important, as if your party is wiped out, you will lose all the candles you have picked up that are not in your bag. The Bounty Hunter may also offer his services. In exchange for some candles, he will replace one of your party members (your choice) for one area. The Bounty Hunter has no past, is professional, so he will not get positive nor negative relationships (he can still get stressed, though), and is rather strong, not only having powerful moves, but being able to fit in any party. The party member that the Bounty Hunter replaced will meet you at the next inn.
So I thought about it, seeing Runaway and Highwayman tend to have similar sort of poses with their hands in the inn. It kinda becomes funny when you imagine that its a dad basically having just had a row with their kid so they're both being moody lol
Something was wrong with the Flame. Bonnie wasn't sure when it had started to weaken. It had been brighter before the incident in the Dreaming General's keep; of that she was certain.
By the time Bonnie had left the Sluice, it was like the Flame was afflicted with a disease. No matter how much oil, tar, coal, and spirits she had fed to the sconce, its Flame only sputtered and languished. When she brought the sconce into the Inn and lit the hearth, the firewood scarcely seemed to take. She watched the logs sizzle and blacken rapidly, but with almost no heat or light. Like the fuel was being consumed by something else altogether.
It unnerved Bonnie. She tried to focus on her work. She didn’t need much light for that, at least. Her hands knew the motions.
The Mountain lay ahead. Tomorrow she'd go there. The Innkeeper had provided her with a plentitude of supplies: gunpowder, wicks, fuses, and any flammable that she asked for. When Bonnie approached the Mountain, the stagecoach would be laden with explosives, and she herself was heavy with incendiaries, grenades, and every sort of fiery trick she had ever come up with.
But by the time she was done crafting ordnance, the Flame in the hearth had shrunk almost to an ember. What was happening to it?
She took a vial of lamp oil and poured it over the logs. It spread, soaked into the charred wood, and disappeared. Same for a bottle of spirits; they vanished as if evaporating, but still the light dimmed. Still the darkness and the chill closed in.
Bonnie looked out the window, but it was so black out that the windows could be coated in pitch. Or the Inn itself could be sunk in the stuff. The darkness around her felt… thick. More suffocating and oppressive than the smoke from burning rubber. As she breathed in, she envisioned her lungs filling with the same blackness that had swallowed the world, and she grimaced. She needed to get out of here.
She took the sconce and began to scoop what remained of the Flame back into it. There was so little heat in the hearth that she used only a gloved hand to ladle the ashes - until she realized that the insulated fabric was fraying and breaking apart. The Flame still hungered, it still consumed, even though it didn’t burn.
It was unnatural; it was horribly wrong. Bonnie couldn’t keep herself in the Inn any longer. She gathered her things as quickly as she could, took the dying Flame in its sconce, and crept out the inn’s back door. She wasn’t sure where the Innkeeper was. She wondered if the darkness had consumed him whole, erased him forever. She wondered if that fate awaited everything left in the world, once the Flame perished completely.
She found the stagecoach and climbed aboard, not bothering to mount the Flame on the back. Instead she held the sconce in one hand as she shook the horses’ reins to start them moving.
“The Mountain awaits,” Bonnie assured herself. She tried to keep her calm by thinking about what foes she might face. She imagined eldritch monstrosities: heaps of inchoate flesh twisted into human-like forms, cackling obscene arcane verse at her and brandishing weapons of made of lightning. She imagined herself charging toward them without fear, her skewer plunging into the largest being’s abdomen and pulling free with a tangle of offal caught on its red-hot barb. She’d faced the Swine. She could face the Mountain’s evil too.
Then she remembered what Audrey had said. “When we reach the Mountain, the worst enemy we face there will be ourselves.”
As those words echoed in Bonnie’s mind, a chill crept down her spine. She looked down at the Flame, just in time to see the last red-orange petal vanish. And with its death, no light at all remained in the world. Bonnie tried to listen for the horses, but all was silent. All was numb.
She remained still for a long time. She couldn’t tell whether she was breathing. Whether she still even existed. She searched for something to hang onto, something, anything to sense at all, anything that could hold back total oblivion from closing over her. Her heartbeat. She felt it in her neck first, then her chest, pounding fearfully. As she focused, it slowed. Calmed. She wondered if it would stop, and it picked up again. Good.
She was still alive.
She tried to breathe in, and instead of focusing on the sensation of the black air, she tried to listen for it. The voice she heard in front of her startled her enough to make her jump.
It was a man’s voice, deep and resonant. Faintly sickly, but powerful and regal all the same.
“You are not Audrey,” the voice said. “Where is she? Where are the others?”
“They’re… gone,” Bonnie said without thinking. Whoever this man was, he had an air of authority to him. Something that made those around him want to obey his will.
“Mm,” the voice grunted. “Doesn’t matter. They were not worthy to enter the Mountain."
Bonnie realized that her eyes were shut. When she opened them, she saw a lone figure standing in the darkness. She couldn't see the ground, nor the stagecoach, nor the horses, but she knew he was standing in front of them. He was practically a giant, encased in gilded heavy plate armor, with a white shroud covering his back. His face was hidden behind a strange gilded mask that bore slits for his eyes, but was flat where a nose should protrude. At his side was a broken sword that once must have been longer than Bonnie was tall.
Bonnie realized who the man must be. He matched the description that Audrey had given, though he was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to have fallen in the Great Library, left behind by Audrey, Dismas, and Paracelsus as they retreated. “Baldwin?”
The man nodded. “You’re not worthy either. So this is where your journey ends, girl.”
(planning next for the Mountain)
Not meaning to sound impatient, but has the next part been posted yet? I'm not seeing the comment.
@@TheGunslinger44 Hey! Really sorry, kinda fell off for a bit. Working on this again, shooting to have it done in the next few days. Truth be told, was taking a break from the game due to waiting for the Act 3 boss to be fixed, so wasn't thinking about this :(
@Tenebrys You are fine, brother. Just wanted you to know you have an audience. A small audience, albeit. But a dedicated one to such a niche story. I am especially looking forward to Baldwin's return as he is my favorite hero.
@@TheGunslinger44 Thanks so much! Really glad you're enjoying the writing stuff! Not sure how it progressed into what I've been doing, but it's nice to know people are following it.
I just posted the penultimate chapter. Not sure you'll like what I did to Baldwin.
@@Tenebrys Oh.
"Lower your guard, soften your gaze, it is safe here
I love how they all look troubeled and like they dont want to be there.
This pic goes so hard
Im very thankful for What you doing.
5 relics of each bullseye
@Osbor, thank You for this amazing music!
People will listen to this theme and go hell yeah!
GR be like: M'lady, ima steal yo wife
I just read Lovecraft's Shadow Over Innsmouth to this soundtrack
I am reading hearing this
reminds my of Diablo 2
ahah imagine not being able to use stress relief item because of some stupid quirk
no just kidding
unless
Kinda sounds like the dark souls 2 fire keeper inn theme
I need bounty hunter up there
Yes when are my boys Bounty Hunter and Crusader going to be added
@@jacemoon4997 soon, BH is datamined
You're in luck
Me relaja bastante.
La calma antes de la tormenta
So good. Reminds me of Kingdom Hearts and Hollow Knight.
I thought he was lighting the path to electrical so the imposter from amongus wouldn't get him 👀
Such a blasphemous vibe
- Всегда заканчивается слишком быстро
- Разве это не антисептик?