Little is known about the origins of Trick and Treat. Whispers on the wind claim that they are the spirits of dead Criminals and Enforcers called forth on Devil's Night to count the cost of the fallen.
Others claim that they are a pair of local pumpkin farmers, exploiting the superstitious nature of a city at war in order to further their own business interests. Either way, they are here, and have goodies on offer. Just don't be surprised if you feel a sudden, unexplained chill running up your spine - or, for that matter, a craving for pumpkin pie&
Level 1: Cash
Level 2: Spooky Symbols
Level 3: Terrifying Themes
Level 4: Petrifying Pumpkin Mask!
Level 5: Thrilling Titles
Level 6: Wicked Weapon Skin and a Horrifying Headband!
Standing required: 0
No Unlocks for this level.
I know it is not the done thing, to ask something of a friend you know for only two weeks in a year but I would ask of you that you wreak bloody violence upon 15 Enforcers. I'll try and make it worth your while, hm?
Kill 15 Enforcers.
Let me begin by saying, I don't even require victory from you for this. I am very magnanimous like that, am I not? I simply require of you to Complete 5 Missions. No matter if you win or lose. It's the taking part that counts, you little hellion.
Complete 5 Missions.
People say time is the fire in which we burn and that the greatest slayer of man is the simple passing of the hours. Clearly these people never met you. Kill 5 Enforcers with a Snub Nose Revolver.
Kill 5 Enforcers with a Snub Nose Revolver.
Salutations and Welcome!
It's the most wonderful time of the year when the spirits of Enforcers and Criminals that have gone before us return to the city for another fortnight of fun and excitement!
Me and my brother, Treat (who seems to believe he is now an old west gunslinger), have set up shop in the Waterfront. Come and play sometime but please be quick about it! We don't have all the time in the world.
Have fun out there all you naughty Criminal boys and girls!
All about the Asylum.
Have you ever felt that San Paro is just a little too crazy? That the insanity that has seeped into the minds of the people that live here is too unreal to have happened naturally? This city that is trying to kill itself from the inside out has to have come from somewhere?
There was a man named Isiah Abington who was a wealthy merchant in San Paro. He was a do-gooder, a man of wealth who trusted in the power of elites. He believed that you must do what is right - not because you are expected to do it, but rather because you are able to. Good for goodness sake.
He lived in splendor and the poor in squalor and felt it was his duty to help those around him. All his attempts to reverse the decay in the city fell flat; mankind's dark instinct to wound itself over the slightest provocation drove him to believe that there was a sickness in the hearts and minds of all men. So he built Abington Towers, sinking the vast majority of his family's accrued fortune into the project.
It was an island of sanity in a rolling sea of madness but the more effort he put in to solving the woes of society the more he seemed to expose them. As time went on he resorted to increasingly more extreme methods to solve the ills of those around him. Men, women and children were rounded up and the treatment that they underwent was as cruel as it was violent and savage. Electroshock, involuntary surgery and re-education. It was moral, social and spiritual reengineering on a grand and bloody scale and, for a while, it worked.
Then the cracks started to appear. Even though his best efforts the city continued its apparently inevitable slide towards self destruction. The Asylum fell along with the Abington family, their mishandled fortune drained by the vampires of Silver Street and Havalynd.
The Asylum lay dormant for many decades, its lighthouse standing vigil and warning the population to stay away. There is so much woe there. So much sadness, anger and rage that it's soaked into the walls. Into the very fabric of reality there, the material world that you can perceive becoming warped. A man named Terence Piper says he is the King of the Asylum but we all know who the king is truly: King Madness, the first of Abington Towers.
Piper is but a usurper, a pretender in a paper Tasty Burger crown.
The Beast known as Abington Towers is awake. Go feed it sometime.
My poetic aspirations are being suffocated!
Ode to Tier 3.
Ah, my dear tier three,
I cry a tear for thee, tier three,
A single tear, bright and light,
Themes attached, to play all night,
Fell a foe and thy theme shall play,
Force them to listen, night and day.
I fear I am not a poet.
Getting a head of the game.
I send to you, my friend, the Pumpkin head.
You may remove yours at will! Our faces are trapped in this ghoulish visage, our countenances terrifying to children, animals and apocolocynposists the world over.
You should place symbols on your pumpkin head in the wardrobe editor back in Breakwater to show the world how you feel.
Have some titles.
Titles are your reward for fighting this far. Wear them with pride. Mark yourself with the labels that I have given you.
The final curtain.
My time here grows short.
The witching weeks are almost over for another year and you and I are due to part ways. I have given you a parting gift of an Aliceband Knife. A piece of headgear showing that pretends that a blade has passed through your head. It's rather charming. Find it in the wardrobe.
Happy Halloween, you fools.