Musicians Of Bremen














No weakness






Every head

Every instrument


Musicians Of Bremen at 1:50.

YouTube user : PunkDrunkGaming

Check out his channel here.

Attacks and effects

When it hops twice in the air, the creature will run around and aim to hit you. Block it with either a power attack or a shield to stop it in it's tracks and get an easy chance to deal damage.


When it slams the rooster on the ground, it will perform 1 of 2 attacks. Either this attack will send 3 streams of rock tears in the ground that home in on the player or it will summon 4 pillars of light that appear on the locations of the players. Simply dodge to avoid the attack.


Sometimes the creature will let out a loud shriek. This will push back players and drop airborne players, but will cause no damage.


When the trumpets glow, the creature will blast 2 airbombs aimed at players standing in front of it. Simply dodge or block the attack.


If the creature lifts its two front paws and they start to glow orange, it will perform a ground shock move that will do damage if it hits directly.


The creature can put a shield around itself, rendering all long ranged attacks ineffective. Use melee attacks to bring down the shield. After a period of time, the shield will go down on its own.


When the cymbals glow yellow, the creature will use them to slash anything in front of him.


The creature will sometimes use it's backhooves to kick players who are attacking from the back. Be vigilant as there is no real warning to this attack.


When the creature balls itself together, it gets ready to make a loud noise, preventing you from moving. Move the left analog stick to recover faster. Every instrument can be destroyed and when they are all destroyed, the creature can no longer perform this attack and thus can no longer stop you.



He was a member of the church chorus.


His honeyed voice earned him a place in their troupe as a child. Thanks to a physiological oddity, his range never dropped with age, and he was able to remain in the role well into adulthood.


And so he kept singing, and thought of little else. Years came and went, until he stood at the cusp of old age.


His voice now lacked the force it held in youth, or the richness. He was pressured to retire, let go due to his age.


Having lived for his career, his life now stood empty. With nothing to animate him, he seemed to age overnight.


His hair greyed, and wrinkles appeared. The transformation worried his family.


Unable to sing, he'd lost his reason to live. So strong was his attachment to his former career, he wore the chorus robes even in retirement.


Age continued to ravage his body, until soon his mind, too, failed. He grew so senile, he mistook the mule he kept for a son. He soon became a burden on his family, for a man who can't tell his son from a mule can't care for himself.


No longer working, he had no income, yet it still cost money to feed him. "Enough is enough," they began to say. And so he was ousted once again. This time, by his own family. Even senile, he understood. With tragic clarity, he understood. It had happened again. He'd been thrown out. Was it so criminal to grow old?


He set out for a place where people gather, the mule he considered a son in tow, still dressed in his choral robes.


He began to sing in his creaking voice. Barely a whisper emerged, and even that was garbled. But the passion was unmistakable. It was his appeal to the world.


I am still alive, it exclaimed.


In time people gathered, no doubt moved by the old man's heartfelt performance. Passersby would stop to listen, and leave some coin.


Though perhaps ungainly, he stood before them a bona fide singer. Senile or no, he was happy. But audiences are fickle, and the novelty of the old man's performance soon wore thin, leaving only a creaking voice behind.


In a few days' time, no one spared him a second look. He would soon be wholly unwanted again.


No matter how weak his mind grew, one memory never faded : the desolation of being discarded.


He would not suffer that again. That was when it appeared before him. A strange chalice, hanging in the air. It spoke :


"Pay the price and you shall have your wish." The relic of legend had chosen him, yet its words could not reach the old man. Age had dulled his mind, after all.


The old man's wish was granted, though he stood there unawares. It was his "son" beside him who answered the Chalice.


The mule he kept in tow.


Motivated by senility though it was, the mule was thankful for the love the old man showed.


It longed to repay him, and so it offered up its flesh to see its owner's ... no, its father's wish granted. To restore the voice he pined for.


The man shed years of age in moments. The mulish traits he grew were likely his "son's" influence. What's more, his urge to sing brought further changes. The mule-man's body took the form of a musical instrument.


It was the birth of a strange new instrument that brayed liike a mule. Soon, the mule-man drew curious eyes once more. He was a musician again.


He was happy, until he noticed his body had vanished. His panic, though, was short-lived. He found his "son" soon enough.


This time, it was a cast-out dog. His body and voice had regained their youth, but not his mind. With dog in tow, the mule-man sang his asinine songs for passersby. But even the strangest curiosities lose their novelty with time, and the crowds' interest waned.


Once more, he fell into dispair. Had he been cast aside? Was he unneeded?


His voice was steeped in sorrow, but the most impassioned plea becomes clichéd with repetition. More tragic still, his faulty memory kept him from seeing that.