Right from the ungainly 3D face taunting me on startup like the Guardian, I had a feeling I was going to enjoy Dungeons of Blood and Dream despite myself. It is a baffling, bizarre thing that lives on the border of janky, retro, and punk (insofar as games can be punk, but that's another article).

You're trapped in a Mind Prison, your "hateful magics" neutered, your memory and understanding gone. Now what?

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