Advanced engine needed : Boom
Primary purpose : Singleplayer
Title : Saturnine Chapel (MNENMA 0)
Filename : SatChap.wad
Release date : 1/13/17
Author : dobu gabu maru
Email Address : firstname.lastname@example.org
Other Files By Author : Co-leader of NOVA & NOVA 2. Got a variety of
other maps elsewhere (MAYhems, THT, UDINO, TNT:R)
Description : "What does fear taste like?
May I savor yours?"
Additional Credits to : All of the playtesters--thanks guys!
* What is included *
New levels : 2
Sounds : Yes
Music : Yes
Graphics : Yes (UI/titlescreen stuff)
Dehacked/BEX Patch : Yes
Demos : No
Other : No
* Play Information *
Game : DOOM2
Map # : MAP01
Single Player : Designed for
Cooperative 2-4 Player : Player starts only
Deathmatch 2-4 Player : No
Other game styles : No
Difficulty Settings : Yes
* Construction *
Base : New from scratch
Build Time : Two months
Editor(s) used : Doom Builder 2
Known Bugs : Slime trails everywhere
May Not Run With : Any port that does not support extended nodes,
old ports of PrBoom/Zdoom
Tested With : Zdoom 2.6.1, PrBoom 2.5.0, PrBoom+ 2.5.1
Music track : "Egypt" by Ribbiks
* Copyright / Permissions *
Authors may NOT use the contents of this file as a base for
modification or reuse. Permissions have been obtained from original
authors for any of their resources modified or included in this file.
You MAY distribute this file, provided you include this text
file, with no modifications. You may distribute this file in any
electronic format (BBS, Diskette, CD, etc) as long as you include
this file intact. I have received permission from the original
authors of any modified or included content in this file to allow
* Where to get the file that this text file describes *
The Usual: ftp://archives.gamers.org/pub/idgames/ and mirrors
(Or, if you will, MNENMA 0)
Dreamer: Foslanp Lakob
Intended Difficulty: Skill 3 "Normal"
Entry from "Rending of the Veil: Journals and Diaries from the Astral
Plane", Chapter 6:
"I write of sorrow, yes, I write of things most ill.
A wild sickness has consumed me; my fever dreams have broken into a
delirium far worse than I thought possible. And yet therein those rancid
visions I have found it--the monument; my muse; the twilight tower. My
eyes ne'er stray from its enchaned floors and page-encrusted walls, my
soul kept rapt amidst tomes of forbidden knowledge. I truly swear that
I had once wished to be free--this a delicate, erstwhile truth--but brought
low am I, on boneless knees before the profane glory of the saturnine
chapel! My fingernails bend and crook into the shape of pens, my crimson
blood congealing into a tarry ink. I stand as scribe eternal to the wonders
that have been revealed to me, my sick and aching body the perfect vessel
for corporeal transcriptions.
So I shall write of sorrow, yes, I shall craft things most ill!"