You are a warrior and have taken the dungeon trapdoor, down to the secret level. Your broadsword is heavy and caked in dwarf blood.... Then the resident vampires wake up and turn the whole place into a bloodbath rave, and your fighting off anything that moves (apart from the occasional busty maiden in amongst the wash of black rubber gear).

And if you're wondering why you've just entered a fantasy novel, it is because the music that inspired this pap is also roted within the world of vampires, two-headed sex beasts and an ethos behind music (screaming on cue, ethereal keys, chugging/typical). This is the sort of stuff that goes down a treat with goth guys that have acne problems and so plaster themselves in white makeup.

Selling out the Astoria without being signed? My god, what's wrong with the world? Have we all regressed? Has the 80's taught us nothing?!