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You've gotten past the bulk of the humunculi and the goblins were refreshingly easy, but as you continue forward you shudder to think at what else may lie in store for you up ahead. This nondescript plateau had dredged on for quite a while and still no sign of Redridge pass. Suddently you reach a tunnel and you are dismayed to see a large troll blocking access. Trolls are even stronger than humunculi so you won't be fighting this one anytime soon. The tunnel represents the only way through to the other side as an inclimbable rockface extends in both directions along the plateau. You're gonna have to get through that tunnel one way or another.
You remember that the shaman said that the Craxil uses riders to send its orders out to its minions and that these riders are basically human thralls. Perhaps you could fake it to get past him. Another option is your bow. Trolls are very large creatures and therefore pretty hard to miss, even for you. A final option is to try and distract it somehow. You reason that you could cause a lot of commotion in the half-dead vegetation nearby to draw him away from the tunnel, then circle around and make a run for it.
> You create A Diversion To Lure Him Away, Then Run For It
The troll may be large, but something tells you it would take more than a few arrows to bring this thing down and you have no intention of getting up close to it for a bluff. It takes time, but after making enough noise from cover you manage to get the troll's attention and lure him away from the tunnel entrance. The creature lumbers slowly and cautiously towards the source of the noise and you are already working your way around from the other side. Eventually you see your opportunity and make a break for it. By the time the troll realizes you are there, you are already behind him and nearing the entrance to the tunnel. He tries to stop you, but you are already inside and despite his best efforts to stop you, you are already beyond his reach. He lets out a series of angry grunts and you continue onward through the tunnel. Clearly all those years of playing capture the flag have served you well.
As you emerge from the other side, you begin to see the rocks getting more red and you take it as a sign that you are on the right path. There was never much foliage in this mountainside but the area you are in now is especially rocky and devoid of vegetation. You hope you will find the Redrange Pass soon so you can deal with the Craxil and be done with this quest.
You've been traveling a long time without sleep and dawn is starting to crack. Somehow, the warm beams of sunlight raising up over the distant rocks make you feel sleepy. As you continnue forward along the rugged expanse of jagged red rocks and dirt you discover the remains of an unused campsite. The inhabitants are long gone, but the camp is still here. A cozy warm campfire, soft, cottony sleeping mat, warm blanket, the works. There are no enemies as far as the eye can see in any direction and you think you would probably be able to think better if you had some rest. The warmth and coziness of this campsite is calling to you and since you haven't slept in almost 40 hours now, you begin to consider.
> You curl Up And Sleep, You May Not Get The Chance To Later
You are going to need to stay awake if you want to keep your mind sharp, and you can't do that if you are sleep deprived. It only makes sense that you would need to take a break in your journey and catch some much needed sleep. Besides, the blanket is so warm, the mat is so cottony soft and the sun beams over your face are just wonderful. You feel as though you could just curl up and hibernate like a bear and continue your sneaky journey at night.
Kind of lucky that you just happened upon such a nice, uninhabited camp huh. I mean, what are the odds right? Well... they aren't very high actually. Actually, its pretty damn convinent isn't it. It's at this point you start to get suspicious but by now it is too late. The entire camp site dissipates into a thick black smoke and you feel as though you've just aged by 50 years. You manage to stand but you can barely move. This is when you notice all the skeletons on the ground that were not here before. How could you not see them before?!? They definitely weren't here before. No way!
The billowy smoke takes form and suddenly it all makes sense in a terrible way. The campsite was just a tempting illusion generated by a wraith. Its terrifying to think that its intelligent enough to lure you in like this, and now that it has already sapped so much of your strength and lifeforce you know in your heart you are completely fucked. Fear gives way to anger, which then gives way to desperation followed by pathetic pleading. The wraith ignores it all and soon you are but a husk of a man and within a few weeks of decay you become just another skeleton adorning his trap.
THE END
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The troll may be large, but something tells you it would take more than a few arrows to bring this thing down and you have no intention of getting up close to it for a bluff. It takes time, but after making enough noise from cover you manage to get the troll's attention and lure him away from the tunnel entrance. The creature lumbers slowly and cautiously towards the source of the noise and you are already working your way around from the other side. Eventually you see your opportunity and make a break for it. By the time the troll realizes you are there, you are already behind him and nearing the entrance to the tunnel. He tries to stop you, but you are already inside and despite his best efforts to stop you, you are already beyond his reach. He lets out a series of angry grunts and you continue onward through the tunnel. Clearly all those years of playing capture the flag have served you well.
As you emerge from the other side, you begin to see the rocks getting more red and you take it as a sign that you are on the right path. There was never much foliage in this mountainside but the area you are in now is especially rocky and devoid of vegetation. You hope you will find the Redrange Pass soon so you can deal with the Craxil and be done with this quest.
You've been traveling a long time without sleep and dawn is starting to crack. Somehow, the warm beams of sunlight raising up over the distant rocks make you feel sleepy. As you continnue forward along the rugged expanse of jagged red rocks and dirt you discover the remains of an unused campsite. The inhabitants are long gone, but the camp is still here. A cozy warm campfire, soft, cottony sleeping mat, warm blanket, the works. There are no enemies as far as the eye can see in any direction and you think you would probably be able to think better if you had some rest. The warmth and coziness of this campsite is calling to you and since you haven't slept in almost 40 hours now, you begin to consider.
> You focus & Discipline, You Need To Keep Moving
You decide that there will be time to sleep when your journey is over. Sleeping now would only make you vulnerable within Craxil territory and given the myriad of possible fates that may befall you we simply cannot take that chance now can we. Then again, you have gone almost 40 hours without sleep so far and you aren't even sure if you are halfway there yet. If you continue pushing yourself forth at this pace you may very well collapse. Perhaps finding a safe place to rest isn't such a bad idea after all.
As you try to walk away you get the distinct smell of bacon. You look back and see a skillet over the campfire. It smells fantastic. Strange that you didn't notice this earlier though. The campsite seems to be calling to you, but of course that idea is completely absurd. Your beginning to feel like that halfling Brodo Faggins, who traveled relentlessly on his journey without supplies or rest. You suppose that given you've been an underappreciated swineherd your whole life, such an idea is a fun one to ponder.
You catch yourself stopping in your tracks, and starring at the food over the campfire and the mat on the ground. "How convinent" you think, "to have all that food within reach of the soft cotton mat. You shake your head and try to shake it off but the temptation is grabbing at your attention.
| 4 |
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| 9 | false |
You might be able to hit the broadside of a barn, but your aim is not sufficient for anything more than a general area. You don't want to alert the goblin to your presence so you are just going to have to deal with him the old fashioned way. Under cover of midnight you slink around to the edge of the camp and work your way along the side until you are close. Despite your apparent lack of skill in fighting and archery you are an absolute master at sneakery. But enough of such destracting thoughts. As the goblin turns away you leap forth, cup his mouth with your left hand, and stab him through the back. You pull the body away from the camp so none of the other goblins will see it.
Fortunately for you, none of the goblins seem stirred in the least. You removed that problem without attracting attention. Even better, another one of the nightwatchmen goblins has come back to the same post trying to figure out why his comrade is no longer at his post. This affords you the opportunity to repeat the procedure and return once again. The way to the central tent still has a few more problems in store for you. Single goblins patrol the area and there is always at least one patrol goblin within sight range of that tent. Also, the tent itself has its own nightwatchman who is evidently dedicated to the shaman. At the very least, you need to kill one of the patrolling goblins to create an opening and the sentry guarding the tent. With this done, you have a chance at abducting and interrogating the shaman for some much needed information on the Craxil.
You have some ideas on the patrolling goblin. You could attempt to construct a simple foothold trap out of vine and add some barbs from the camp to dig into his foot. Alternatively, you could wait until he rounds his usual tree and cut him down before the next patrolling goblin comes along.
> You wait Behind The Tree And Cut Him Down As He Comes Along
You prefer to keep things simple and avoid the convoluted. Besides, a barbed trap would likely make him scream out before you kill him would it not? You hide behind a tree and wait for the next goblin to make his usual round. As he comes about you plunge your sword into his chest and immediately grab him so you can hide the body before the next patrol arrives.
You wait for the opening to come again, then quickly maneuver into position to stab the tent's sentry before the next patrol goblin comes around. You peek inside to see the shaman sleeping (lucky you) and drag the sentry's body inside where it won't be detected. You've reached the shaman, and he's still asleep, but you can't very well interrogate him here. You pick up a candlestick from the nearby table and as he's coming to you clock him over the head with it. You check for a pulse to see if he's dead or unconcious and thankfully, he's just knocked out. You gag him and bind his arms behind his back because he won't be able to cast spells without his tounge and hand movements. You use the same patrol opening to escape the camp and return to a spot distant from the camp. You rouse the shaman to wake up and realize you are probably more scared than he will be.
| 3 |
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| 10 | false |
Naturally, you are not going to go down the passageway that your pursuers went down, that's just stupid. You want to avoid unnecessary conflict after allso you can increase your chances of reaching the Craxil. This passageway leads you out to a large plateau. To the right, you can see another several clusters of cave networks populated by humunculi. To the left you see a step drop off that would land you in the forest the hunters of your village like to use. In front of you, and in the distance, is a curious looking camp. You see a couple different campfires and at least two dozen tee-pee style tents down over there. You can't make out who the inhabitants are though, at least not from here. Odds are they aren't friendly though. This is Craxil territory after all. Of course, the humunculi in the multiple cave clusters over there aren't friendly either so what does it matter? You still have no leads as to where to find the Craxil but you need to make a decision as to where to go.
> You explore The Humunculi Clusters
Perhaps it is wise to stick with the enemy you know right? Anyway, the creatures that have been attacking your village have been humunculi and while they are not the only creatures under the Craxil's command (according to Brandolf) they are the ones he seems to call on the most. Perhaps you'll find clues to his whereabouts somewhere about in their dwellings.
The task of sneaking over to these cave clusters unseen is a challenging one. You are out in the open now, so the sun is taking away any advantage that the darkness would otherwise have given you. Also, a couple humunculi are standing outside in the open, in the front of the cave clusters you seek to gain entry to. Realizing the impossibility of this situation, you fall back a bit and wait until nightfall to make your move.
Eventually the sun sets and the humunculi retire to their caves. You slink over to their position using what little rock cover and shrubbery you have to conceal your approach. Just as you reach the next rock for cover you feel something strike you from above and you lose conciousness. Seems one of the humunculi noticed your approach and got you with a rock from a high vantage point. You're surprised you survived such a blow but you soon wish you hadn't. Your arms and legs are restrained with thick vines and it is clear you are about to become the meal for a handful of humunculi.
THE END
| 3 |
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The room is too well lit to try and sneak past him and lunging forth at a superior foe with a short sword doesn't strike your fancy either. You decide to get creative and pull out the bow that Brandolf gave you in the council before you left. You ran a few practice shots before departing on this journey and you know you can at least hit a general target, though you'd be pretty hard pressed to achieve any kind of real accuracy.
The first shot whizzes past the creatures head and into a nearby pillar of rock. His eyes go wide as he looks at the arrow then turns to look directly at you. You immediately pull back another arrow and take aim knowing this shot is going to make or break destiny. You aim for his chest as that is the broadest target available and the iron arrowhead may even reach his heart. As he lunges forth you close your eyes and release...
You half expected you'd be dead by now but when you open your eyes you discover your arrow went through the creatures neck. He is now on his knees bleeding profusely and clutching his throat. Wasting no time, you finish him with your short sword, then dive into the darkest corner. The three humunculi heard the ruckus and have come down from their campfire to see what the commotion was. When they discover their fallen comrade, they go into a rage and start to look around. You dig into the corner as much as you can and clutch your sword. Two of the creatures move towards the unexplored passageway on the other side of the chamber while the third seems to be gravitating closer to your position. You begin to wonder if you should strike him by surprise while you still can or hope you can try to remain undiscovered.
> You remain In The Corner And Hope To Be Undiscovered
Even if you succeeded in sneak attacking this one, what about the other two? You cannot possibly hope to defeat two humunculi, especially without the element of surprise on your side. Their monsters and let's face it, elementary school girls still best you at arm wrestling. Your best bet is to remain in the corner and pray. You sit there, hold your breath, and close your eyes. This is probably for the best, because its all over before you realize what's happening. The humunculus discovered you and struck you upside the head with such force that you suffered a fatal concussion. On the plus side, you didn't feel a thing.
THE END
| 3 |
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You press your body firmly against the back wall of the chamber and slowly make your way over to the entrance of the large passageway on the left. Occasionally the campfire will flicker light in your general direction giving you pause, but the humunculi are totally unaware of your presence. Eventually, you manage to make it to the passageway and it doesn't take long before you reach another chamber. You are greatly disheartened by what you see up ahead.
A larger than normal humunculus stands in the center of the fairly well lit chamber and judging from his tribal decor you figure he must be someone of rank. The passageway continues at the other end of the chamber, but this creature blocks your path. At the moment, he is looking off to the side and does not notice your presence. You weigh your options.
> You go Back The Way You Came
You are quickly beginning to wish Brandolf had given you a torch, but given the nature of your quest he probably figured you didn't need to draw attention to yourself. Still, you can barely see more than a few feet in front of your face and it is only getting darker as you continue further inward. You run your hand along the right wall and move carefully, scouting each step with your foot to avoid a fall. Your heart is racing and you know that at any moment, something might come out and attack.
Eventually, the cave leads into a small inner chamber with a campfire in the middle. Three humunculi are sitting around the campfire, roasting human limbs on a stick as if they were marshmellows. Fortunately, they are not aware of your presence and the campfire enables you to see there are several tunnels leading out from this chamber. On the other side of the chamber is a tunnel that goes deeper in, but you won't be able to go down this way undetected as long as the humunculi are here. There are also nondescript passsageways to the left and the right (large and small respectively) that you can reach as long as you stay in the shadows.
| 4 |
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| 6 | false |
You’re both facing adversity in life. In a sense, you’ve both been raped. Julia in a literal sense and yourself in a mental sense. Catia cursed you and has left you a shell of your former self.The past few days have been hell. Why not reconnect with a old friend and see if it leads anywhere? Everyday you walk to the Cinnamon Pearl Cafe hoping to see Julia. A few days go by and you never see her, however it’s not all bad. You’re now eating and staying hydrated, which is never a bad thing. You haven’t seen any shadow people in days and have stopped having nightmares. Things are looking up for you.
One day after ordering your usual (a cup of coffee and cinnamon toast) Julia walks in. She’s all alone and you make eye contact with her. She winks at you and holds up a finger indicating that you should give her a second. You watch as she orders a coffee and raisin bread. After paying, she walks over to join you.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” she says.
“I’m here all the time now. I mean, their coffee’s really great.”
She laughs and asks,
“How have you been doing?”
“I’m great, but I’ve been worrying about you, how have you been holding up?”
She gets a little teary eyed while saying,
“That’s so sweet of you, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m planning on leaving Ashton tomorrow morning.”
You sit mouth agape shocked at the news. She could have easy left without telling you. You might have gone mad waiting for her, but now you have a chance to leave with her.
“Why are you leaving? I get why you might not want to live in a place with bad memories of your past, but why leave so soon?”
“It’s no longer safe here and you should know better than anyone being a guard and all.”
“Former guard, and what do you mean it’s not safe? I haven’t heard of any demon sightings...”
“Well there was one just a few nights ago and people living in Ashton died. I have family up in Kingsburg and know I’ll be safe there.”
“Are you going all alone or bringing anyone with you?”
“As of now, all alone. I don’t know how difficult travel will be, back if I survive, I’ll finally have a place to call home.”
You really don’t think it’s a good idea for her to travel alone. One for the selfish reason of wanting to be close to her, but also because it’s the middle of winter and travel hasn’t been safe since the demonic invasion. This is all happening so fast, you barely know Julia the adult considering you just reconnect with you. Will she even let you come with her if you ask?
> You wish her good luck and say goodbye
“Well best of luck, but I have to go.”
“Ok...goodbye.”
You leave and give her a smile, but on the inside you feel horrible. Why didn’t you ask if you could come along? The worse that could happen is her saying no, but at least you could say you tried. You arrive home and spend all day inside. During sleep, you have your first nightmare in days. Seeing no reason to go to the Cinnamon Pearl Cafe now that’s Julia is gone, you stay inside all day. The shadow people start showing up in the corner of your vision and they taunt you relentlessly. Since you’re not eating or drinking, you don’t have the energy to leave bed anymore. You spend the next few days like this regretting the choice you made.
On a day like any other, you die from dehydration during your sleep. Rest easy knowing you’ll never have a nightmare again.
| 3 |
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| 9 | false |
“Fuck off worm.”
Greg surprises you when he snaps back,
“Connor and Tom picking on me is one thing, but you? I don’t know why, but I thought you were different.”
For a second, you feel hurt. But then you realize it's Greg and feel a bit better.
“Your fault, not mine. Now do as you're told and stop following me,” you say while walking away.
This guys persistent and runs to catch up when you start walking fast. Are you going to have to kick the shit out of him so he leaves you alone? You hope not, but that may be the only option as he’s acting like a child.
“I don’t want to go back to the tavern. Wherever you’re going, it's better than there.”
He’s probably not wrong, but it's beyond pathetic that he still follows you. Guess when you take so much abuse you can shrug it off pretty easily.
“Go ahead, follow me. Just know if you try to enter my house you won’t be able to leave.”
He gulps but continues to follow you. He’s wasted a lot of your time so you decide to take a shortcut to your parents’ house. You find yourself exiting out of the slums and into the residential part of the city. Most guards sleep in the barracks, however, since your parents never returned from their trip their house is all yours. If they ever return, you hope they don’t mind you bringing a demon inside the house. Although, they were always bugging you about finding a girlfriend, this might not be what they had in mind.
You arrive at your parent’s old home and open the door. The wooden door squeaks loudly as you open it.
“Some things never change,” you whisper to yourself.
You immediately start making yourself more presentable. You change out of your soldiers’ uniform and put on a loose-fitting black tunic. You probably should take a bath but you're too excited to see Catia that you forget to. Do demons mind odor?
You’re about to sit down in your bed when a chill runs down your spin. Your door makes a squeaking noise and a cold breeze rushes towards you.
“I swear to god Greg! you shout.
No reply, although you don’t know what you were expecting. It’s possible the breeze pushed the door open, it's pretty flimsy and it wouldn’t be the craziest thing that’s happened in the last 24 hours. On the other hand, you can’t shake the feeling you're being watched. Should you investigate?
> You ignore it
It probably was just the wind, no need to be paranoid. You hop in bed and close your eyes.
“Cat---”
You head is struck making you collapse. You black out from what you assume to be Greg’s doing. Who knew he was so strong? You suffer intensive internal bleeding and die a slow, painful death.
| 2 |
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| 10 | false |
You grab the rock you noticed earlier almost immediately, then go back to blocking your opponents attacks. The enemy is attacking fast and furious and it takes all your concentration to block. Even so, you only manage to block most of its attacks and take a few slashes. Nothing major, but you are losing blood. Eventually you see your opening and you ram the rock into the creature's skull with the full force of your adrenaline infused arm. You hear a satisfying crack as the front of the skull crumbles and the creature stumbles back. Realizing how brittle this thing must be, you grab its wrist before it can regain composure and bring the rock down again, taking off its sword arm at the elbow. Another crack at the spine for good measure and you are confident the creature is dead. The other four look on angrily and scream but the bars prevent them from doing anything about it, so you decide to move on deeper into the cave in hopes of finding another way out of here.
The cave only gets darker and darker as you go in deeper and you find it odd that there are no other inhabitants in this region... until you see a pair of large white eyes staring back at you from the darkness in the next cavern. It doesn't appear willing to leave the chamber in pursuit of you, but you cannot return the way you came as the skeletons are still banging on the bars you left behind. Studying the creatures behavior a little more, you begin to suspect it is a grue.
You've heard stories of grues from nearly every adventurer you've ever met. These things are the leading cause of death amongst those in the adventuring profession. Even higher than dragons, vampires, and Lindsay Lohan. In fact, while grues are believed to be organic and corporeal, no adventurer has ever actually killed one before. You struggle to remember what the adventurers told you when dealing with a grue. It has a certain weakness, but for the life of you you simply cannot remember what that is... You're going to have to guess.
> A Grue's Weakness Is Noise, you Shout Loudly As you Enter
Of course! Many creatures are frightened by loud noises, grues must be too! You march into the chamber singing "FRIDAY FRIDAY" as well as "MY MILKSHAKE BRINGS ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD..." certain that this will scare the creature. Sadly, despite your frightening choice in music, the creature does not appear to be phased.
You were eaten by a grue.
THE END
| 5 |
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| 9 | false |
You rejoin the Redridge Pass and continue northwest towards the canyon you hope to find. You hear a shuffling noise and you could have sworn that the vines stemming from that rather bizarre looking cactus just moved. Nah, just a vine on the ground... from a cactus... on a mostly dry and rocky mountainside... makes perfect sense. You continue to rationalize this in your head as you walk along only to notice a similar movement from another cactii vine up ahead of you. Suddenly you feel one of these vines wrap itself around your left ankle and sting you.
You pull and draw your sword but other vines have taken up the call as well and you are getting grabbed and stung all over. You still have limited movement with your limbs, but you are out of balance. The stingers must have injected you with something because you are feeling nausious. You need to focus and get out of this mess before you black out or you might not wake up. You look over at the cactii these vines are coming from and they have inexplicably moved closer to your position. Very close in fact. The needles jutting out from them seem to have perked up and gotten longer. Whatever these things are, they've got you and you aren't about to become their prey.
You are still able to reach your sword, but with vines slowing your arm and your lack of balance you aren't sure you will be able to sever the thick vines that are holding you in place. You could always apply some poison to it first, but just reaching the poison is going to be a challenge as you've stored that in your backpack. You still have flint in your front pocket and a few pieces of tinder left, perhaps if you can get a small fire going you can push them back. Whatever you do though, it has to be quick. You can feel the venom from the many stingers affecting your mind and it is taking all your discipline to maintain your focus right now.
> You apply The Poison First, Then Cut At The Vines
You aren't sure if you will be able to completely sever the vines that hold you, but if you can at least cut into them, the poison should do the rest. Unfortunately, it is stored in your pack which is a little difficult to reach right now, but that isn't going to stop you from trying now is it? You pull your right hand back and the vine that holds it pulls back. Somehow, you think it might realize you are trying to get something and it seeks to keep your arm out front. You continue to pull against it with all your might but you reach a stalemate with the vine just getting your arm to your side.
The venom is starting to really kick in now. In addition to being nausious you are now dizzying as well. The only thing keeping you going is your sheer determination to live. You bite and claw at the vine, you squirm, you fight, and eventually you get your arm back to your pack. You are feeling light headed and you know you don't have much time. You manage to get the vile of venom out of your backpack but in your situation that struggle took too much time and energy. You no longer have the energy and wherewithall to apply it. You black out and the vile falls uselessly to the ground. You don't know what they did after that, because you never woke up again.
THE END
| 4 |
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You turn around to confront the source of the hoofprint noise and you see two humans on horseback. Their eyes appear to be in a glaze and they are looking right at you. Thing is, you recognize these two. They were farmhands that were captured a few weeks back. Everyone assumed they were eaten like most of the people who are taken. For some reason the Craxil must have decided to make them thralls and this is abundantly clear in their appearance. These must be some of the "riders" you've heard about.
They both hop down from their horses and draw swords. Given you were already standing at the edge of the canyon when they showed up, you don't have a lot of room to maneuver. You know that before they became thralls they didn't really possess much fighting skill, but you have no idea now. You don't have much time to decide what to do here.
There is a small gap between the two of them and they are widening it in an attempt to come at you from both sides. Perhaps you should bolt between them and try to get away. Alternatively, there is a branch sticking out of the wall of the canyon not far below you. You could jump down to it and try to climb down the wall of the canyon to a safer ledge. Either way, you need to get away from these two.
> You jump To Branch And Climb Down
You aren't going to be able to outrun them if they have horses so you take the only option you got and jump. You are scared out of your mind but you successfully grapple the hanging branch and the two riders can do nothing but glare down at you and growl. The tricky part is getting down from here. You have never really been afraid of heights but you are REALLY high up. The nearest ledge is almost halfway down the canyon and the rockface isn't easily climbable. Still, you don't have much of a choice so you try anyway.
You make it most of the way down until one of the groves you were holding onto comes out and you fall. Thankfully, you land on the ledge and you were already most of the way there so aside from knocking the wind out of you and hurting like hell you are pretty much alright. Its possible you might have a broken rib but you have no way of knowing and it isn't precluding you from going on even if it is broken. After taking time to recover a bit and catch your breath, you look around a bit and find a clear way to climb down to the bottom of the canyon and downward you go. Fortunately, you make it to the bottom of the canyon without further incident.
You have now reached the bottom of the canyon and you know the entrance to the Craxil's chasm must be around here somewhere, but it is a massive canyon to explore. You spent almost 7 hours down there until you come across three bizarre looking doors. One is red and bears the emblem of a bear. The next is green and bears the emblem of a spider. The last is blue and bears the emblem of a wolf. This whole ritual gets even more bizarre when you notice a rabbit approach and stand beside the red door as if to beckon you in that way. A squirrel approaches the green
door and stands atop the frame as if to endorse that one, and an owl flies down to a rock near the blue door. Its times like these you wish you were a druid so you could better understand what the hell these critters are trying to tell you. Still, you have a decision to make and your instincts (whatever they are worth) are telling you that you only get one shot at this.
~Hint: Depending upon the path you took to get here, you may or may not have seen one or both of the creatures on the correct door already. If not, you are just going to have to guess.~
> You enter The Red Door With Bear Emblem, Endorsed By The Bunny
Who can resist a cute widdle fluffy wuffy bunny hmm? You open the red door with the bear emblem and as soon as you enter, the door slams shut and locks behind you. It looks like you really don't have much of a choice but to continue down this passageway. At the end is a large, circular chamber with numerous torches illuminating the entire chamber. You are trying to decide which of two passageways to proceed down until you notice two bears, one coming out of each passage. They lock eyes on you and give chase almost immediately. You turn and run back to the door you entered from but it won't budge. It seems you've made the wrong decision, and now the bears are eviscorating your midsection.
THE END
| 2 |
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You aren't going to be able to outrun them if they have horses so you take the only option you got and jump. You are scared out of your mind but you successfully grapple the hanging branch and the two riders can do nothing but glare down at you and growl. The tricky part is getting down from here. You have never really been afraid of heights but you are REALLY high up. The nearest ledge is almost halfway down the canyon and the rockface isn't easily climbable. Still, you don't have much of a choice so you try anyway.
You make it most of the way down until one of the groves you were holding onto comes out and you fall. Thankfully, you land on the ledge and you were already most of the way there so aside from knocking the wind out of you and hurting like hell you are pretty much alright. Its possible you might have a broken rib but you have no way of knowing and it isn't precluding you from going on even if it is broken. After taking time to recover a bit and catch your breath, you look around a bit and find a clear way to climb down to the bottom of the canyon and downward you go. Fortunately, you make it to the bottom of the canyon without further incident.
You have now reached the bottom of the canyon and you know the entrance to the Craxil's chasm must be around here somewhere, but it is a massive canyon to explore. You spent almost 7 hours down there until you come across three bizarre looking doors. One is red and bears the emblem of a bear. The next is green and bears the emblem of a spider. The last is blue and bears the emblem of a wolf. This whole ritual gets even more bizarre when you notice a rabbit approach and stand beside the red door as if to beckon you in that way. A squirrel approaches the green
door and stands atop the frame as if to endorse that one, and an owl flies down to a rock near the blue door. Its times like these you wish you were a druid so you could better understand what the hell these critters are trying to tell you. Still, you have a decision to make and your instincts (whatever they are worth) are telling you that you only get one shot at this.
~Hint: Depending upon the path you took to get here, you may or may not have seen one or both of the creatures on the correct door already. If not, you are just going to have to guess.~
> You enter The Green Door With Spider Emblem, Endorsed By The Squirrel
You choose the green door with the spider emblem, endorsed by the squirrel. After all, what is more trustworthy than a cute little squirrel? You enter and immediately thereafter the door slams shut behind you and locks in place. It seems you haven't much of a choice but to move forward down the passageway. It is exceptionally dark down here, but given that you are a sneak that is actually a good thing. You suddenly find yourself stuck and after fidgeting around for a while you come to the sudden realization what it is that has trapped you and why the door has a spider emblem on it. It seems you aren't the only one that enjoys sneaking around in the dark...
THE END
| 3 |
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Where is your sense of adventure? Heroes aren’t supposed to be in the game just for the money!
What about for princess bosom?
Princess bosom is nice, but even with that you are still only a cheap imitation of a true hero. Besides, I do not see any princess bosom in the area, and no, you cannot buy princess bosom. You must earn such luxuries.
Are you telling me I don’t actually get to go home?
No, you can go home if you want. I’m merely giving you an opportunity to reconsider because I am a kind and kindred spirit. Eh, who am I kidding? I’m kind of a dick, but my offer still stands.
> You convinced you, oh benevolent and mighty guardian angel.
No one likes a kiss ass. I'm more akin to a god than an angel anyway.
Taking a deep whiff of air you can smell the magic. This place has more to it than abandoned pots of gold and rainbows after all. You order your horse to stay and guard your gold as you dart towards the disturbance, and he obeys, because that is what good horseys do.
You storm through the trees, snapping branches and scaring furry little forest critters. In your haste, you trample a chipmunk. The little fellow’s bones make a nice crunching noise.
“Hey what’s the big idea!”
You whirl around but do not see anyone. You inspect the bottom of your boot, but the chipmunk is not the speaker. He is squashed like a rotten pumpkin all juicy and splattered.
“Over here you idiot.” A giant of a man posing as a tree rumbles toward you. He has moss and vines for a beard and hair. His green eyes glimmer with malice. A bear and a wolf lumber along at his sides. “Why are you destroying my forest?”
“Sorry, I was looking for whatever made that awful cry.”
“That was a leprechaun bemoaning his sorry fate of being a leprechaun.”
“Cool, can you show me where they are?”
“You murder my friend and harm my trees and you ask me for help? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t bring you home to my wife and tickle you to death for her amusement while my children eat your toes!”
What in the name of Pegasus is this thing? Oh, if only you had brought that book on mythical creatures Samwellington bought you for your birthday. At any rate, something tells you he does not belong in Irelandshire. You do not think you will be able to reason with him. If the chipmunk was his friend, honor would dictate that he avenge the cute little guy’s mushy corpse. How do you want to play this?
> You tell him, 'Everything you say is a lie.'
A smug smirk crosses your lips as you proudly declare, “Everything I say is a lie.”
The weird tree man thing stares at you then shakes his head in pity. “What did you think a paradox would do? Make my brain melt into soup?”
“Yes, actually.”
“I am a leshy. Not an imbecile.”
“I have no idea what that is. Do you sing songs?”
“You’ll see what I do.”
The leshy’s animal friends attack and pin you to the ground before you can react. You manage to strangle the bear to death with your ethereal arm, but this only enrages the leshy further. He plucks you from the ground as a princess would an eyelash and carries you off to his shanty with the wolf nipping at your feet.
Once inside his home, he binds you with vines and hangs you from the ceiling. His wife and children enter from kitchen.
“Oh, wonderful,” his wife cries with glee, “you found a wanderer! We get so few in the Valley of Rainbows.”
“The stupid leprechauns keep everyone away,” says one of the children. “No one wants to be near a leprechaun.”
The leshy’s wife smacks the child upside the head. “You treat the leprechauns with respect young man. They have enough misfortune without your drivel.”
“That’s right. Behave yourself, or I won’t let you eat his toes,” says the leshy.
“Yes Pa.”
The leshy begins tickling you as the children nibble on your toes. The wife shoves a hand down her dress and begins to moan and giggle. You shut your eyes and vomit between fits of laughter and screams of agony. Piss runs down your leg.
“You evil bastard!” you scream.
“I’m not evil. You’re just a failure and a murderer,” says the leshy as he proceeds to tickle you to death. “Chipper was one of my best friends. He will not be forgotten.”
| 6 |
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| 8 | false |
No one likes a kiss ass. I'm more akin to a god than an angel anyway.
Taking a deep whiff of air you can smell the magic. This place has more to it than abandoned pots of gold and rainbows after all. You order your horse to stay and guard your gold as you dart towards the disturbance, and he obeys, because that is what good horseys do.
You storm through the trees, snapping branches and scaring furry little forest critters. In your haste, you trample a chipmunk. The little fellow’s bones make a nice crunching noise.
“Hey what’s the big idea!”
You whirl around but do not see anyone. You inspect the bottom of your boot, but the chipmunk is not the speaker. He is squashed like a rotten pumpkin all juicy and splattered.
“Over here you idiot.” A giant of a man posing as a tree rumbles toward you. He has moss and vines for a beard and hair. His green eyes glimmer with malice. A bear and a wolf lumber along at his sides. “Why are you destroying my forest?”
“Sorry, I was looking for whatever made that awful cry.”
“That was a leprechaun bemoaning his sorry fate of being a leprechaun.”
“Cool, can you show me where they are?”
“You murder my friend and harm my trees and you ask me for help? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t bring you home to my wife and tickle you to death for her amusement while my children eat your toes!”
What in the name of Pegasus is this thing? Oh, if only you had brought that book on mythical creatures Samwellington bought you for your birthday. At any rate, something tells you he does not belong in Irelandshire. You do not think you will be able to reason with him. If the chipmunk was his friend, honor would dictate that he avenge the cute little guy’s mushy corpse. How do you want to play this?
> You turn your clothes inside out and put your shoes on the wrong feet.
You remember now! This creature is a leshy, and there is only one sure fire way to stop a leshy. You whip off your clothes, put them on inside out, kick off your shoes and slip them onto the opposite feet.
The leshy grimaces and his animal companions slink away. “I guess I have to show you the way out now.”
“I know the way out. Can you take me to the leprechauns?”
“You want to see the leprechauns? Are you dull in the head?”
“I like bacon, yes.”
The leshy’s eyes twinkle with fear. “Clearly, you’re mentally unhinged. Just like those poor leprechauns. If I take you to them, promise you’ll leave me and my family alone.”
“Sure.”
You follow the leshy into a glade, within a glen, within a gorge, within a holler, within a hollow, within a dell, within a dale, within a dingle, within a canyon, within a vale within the Valley of Rainbows. The trip is quite, shall I say, trippy.
The leshy points to a pool of water where all the rainbows spring forth. “I’m not getting any closer. Give the leprechauns my condolences, and please don’t murder rape my family. Good day.” The leshy leaves in a hurry without another word.
You approach the pool with eager enthusiasm and the leprechauns begin to appear from the surrounding trees…
...
Why are you stopping?
I’m sorry. It’s too depressing. Give the leprechauns my condolences as well, poor sorry bastards.
| 2 |
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| 6 | false |
Truer words have never been said. Well, they probably have, but you cannot think of any at the moment.
“Alright,” you nod, “bring on the magic.”
“That’s the spirit.” Osprey bumbles around finishing his runes. He mutters some incantations, bops you on top of the head a few times with his staff and bursts into poetry.
A wizard did it, a wizard bid it.
An arm grew, fresh and new.
Ethereal, but not imperial.
As we live in a realm, surrounded by elm.
Nature’s magic, is never tragic.
My rhymes are bad, but I’m not mad.
This spell worked, ‘cause Cyrus twerked.
Just like that, a sprite and shiny ethereal arm appears from your shoulder. You clench your fist and feel the power pulsing through your… veins? Jon claps politely as Osprey bows.
The hedge wizard slaps you across the back, smiling. “Now don’t go committing sins of self-pleasure with that thing. You might rip something important off.”
You gulp.
Osprey cackles and slaps you some more. He seems to like hitting you. “You can shoot magic energy blasts out of that thing too. I thought that might be useful for a hero.”
Jon shakes his head. “If you want to be a heroic knight, don’t do that. Knights aren’t magic. Only trouble can come of it. This isn’t a wizard’s tale.”
Osprey shrugs and wanders back into his hut. The door creaks shut and you soon hear the calamity snap back to life. He pokes his head out to offer one last piece of advice. “You treat them leprechauns with respect, boy, you hear me?” He slams the door shut and that is that.
“What do we do now?” you ask Jon.
“Well, I’m going to go back to the hamlet and make sure everything’s in order. You should go try out your new arm and get used to it.”
You consider that a smashing idea and head off to the neighboring kingdom of Irelandshire to seek out one of these mystical leprechauns. With the help of several drunken and boisterous natives, you learn the not-so-secret location of the Valley of Rainbows where the leprechauns supposedly abound. They warn you not to go though because it is a sad and wretched place. Obviously, you ignore them.
Hundreds of rainbows dot the easy to access valley, and you have little difficulty tracking one down to its end. Naturally, a great pot of gold sits next to it, but no leprechaun.
You try calling for them, taunting them, begging them, praising them, but none appear.
“Well at least I’m rich.”
You pack as much gold as you can onto your horse (which isn’t anywhere near the entire pot since gold is heavy, yet it’s still enough to buy a castle or two) and prepare to return home.
As you approach the precipice with the cave that leads out of the valley, a shrill cry booms from deep in the heart of the valley.
> You investigate the cry.
Taking a deep whiff of air you can smell the magic. This place has more to it than abandoned pots of gold and rainbows after all. You order your horse to stay and guard your gold as you dart towards the disturbance, and he obeys, because that is what good horseys do.
You storm through the trees, snapping branches and scaring furry little forest critters. In your haste, you trample a chipmunk. The little fellow’s bones make a nice crunching noise.
“Hey what’s the big idea!”
You whirl around but do not see anyone. You inspect the bottom of your boot, but the chipmunk is not the speaker. He is squashed like a rotten pumpkin all juicy and splattered.
“Over here you idiot.” A giant of a man posing as a tree rumbles toward you. He has moss and vines for a beard and hair. His green eyes glimmer with malice. A bear and a wolf lumber along at his sides. “Why are you destroying my forest?”
“Sorry, I was looking for whatever made that awful cry.”
“That was a leprechaun bemoaning his sorry fate of being a leprechaun.”
“Cool, can you show me where they are?”
“You murder my friend and harm my trees and you ask me for help? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t bring you home to my wife and tickle you to death for her amusement while my children eat your toes!”
What in the name of Pegasus is this thing? Oh, if only you had brought that book on mythical creatures Samwellington bought you for your birthday. At any rate, something tells you he does not belong in Irelandshire. You also doubt you will be able to reason with him. If the chipmunk was his friend, honor would dictate that he avenge the cute little guy’s mushy corpse. How do you want to play this?
| 2 |
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| 10 | false |
“What happens next?”
“Now that, that is the question of the hour, isn’t it?” sings the sweet voice.
The mysterious creature’s slick fingers trace their way into your breeches and tickle your Johnson. An overwhelming sensation of euphoria courses through your veins. Blood surges through your body. You feel… invigorated, as if you have more energy than the sun itself.
“I get ever so lonely here by myself,” the voice sings. “Won’t you… play with me?”
> You it's a trap!
Shit, it’s a trap! Jon once gave you a book about just this situation. This magical sexy creature is none other than a water sprite, posing as the evil sorceress, Organa Mel Fy, probably one of her sultry minions. She’ll sex you up then drown you in the stream and feast on your corpse.
“I want you to want me.” The water sprite moans and works magic on your body with her fingers.
Try as you might you cannot resist her allure as she toys with you in her lap. The magical enchantment and sexual tension corrode the fibers of your mind, breaking the mental barriers you constructed for just such a situation.
Saggy old nuns. Saggy old nuns. Saggy old nuns. Sally David. Mom. Oh shit, I’m still getting hard.
Hard as a brick in fact.
Help me!
Do you have a sister?
Yes, but that won’t work.
You whacked it while watching her bathe in the river didn’t you, perv.
Maybe…
I suppose there is always self-castration.
Go to hell.
“Don’t be shy, baby,” sings the water sprite, “I just want to rock you like a hurricane, shake you all night long, twist and shout, scream a rebel yell, make you walk on water, take you down to the paradise city, administer rough justice, and get your rocks off.”
Losing the battle of self-control your johnson twitches wildly. “Oh, sweet merciful God, that sounds orgasmic.”
The water sprite leans in close and whispers in your ear, “Let me take you home tonight so I can keep on loving you.”
The sultry songs of the water sprite prove too much for your feeble constitution. Your johnson explodes into a fountain of blood from a colossal aneurysm brought on by an overload of magical sexual tension. Since I’m not completely depraved, I’ll spare you the grisly details. Short agonizing story in brief: you bleed out.
| 3 |
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| 2 | false |
You load up the gun and kick the door open. The closest group of zed growl, and stomp over to you. You kneel for better balance, and do your best to aim. When you pull the trigger, you are surprisingly accurate. By the time you're out of bullets, you've cleared just enough of a path out. You slip by the trailer and move up the street at a steady jog, away from the zombies.
After you've slowed to a walk, you notice another building coming up. It looks kind of like a factory building. It has several floors, is made of brick. Three smokestacks jut out of the building's roof. it seems worthwhile to check out, so you run up to it. You are disappointed to learn that the entrance is surrounded by fencing.
> You break in
You use the butt of your gun to hit the fence poles repeatedly. Eventually, the pole gives way, and part of the fence falls away. You step in, and into the factory.
As soon as you step inside, you see a woman picking through a pile of debris. She looks up at you as you enter.
"Oh. Hi," she says. She seems rather uninterested in you. "What are you looking for?" you ask. "Parts," she replies. "Parts for an engine. More specifically," she pulls a piece of notebook paper out of her pocket and reads it, "...a fan belt."
You nod. "Okay."
"My name's Clarice, by the way," she says out of nowhere. You are caught slightly off guard, but introduce yourself anyway. Suddenly, Clarice pulls a large black thing out of the wreckage. "Found it," she says triumphantly. She heads out of a side door. "By the way," she adds, "Don't bother following me."
| 2 |
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| 1 | false |
You aren't sure how to feel as you pace up the road, vaguely in the direction of Washington. You feel remorse for your decision, and wish you could take it back. Giving up Megan was a stupid choice. She cared about you, and you would gladly hand her over for your own protection. There's no more time to dwell, though. That affair took up the whole day. It'll be dark soon.
you continue up the road, in search of a place to spend the night. About an hour after the sun goes down, you spot something. It looks like a military outpost.
It ends up being exactly that. Judging by the footprints and blood, this place didn't last too long. It's only been a few days, and people are dying fast. Not even the military can seemingly stand up to the ever-growing threat of death. You open the door to the trailer and look inside.
You are rewarded with another gun, this one a Stag-15. It has a half-empty magazine. Other than that, you find nothing in the trailer. It's as good a place as any to sleep, and it has a pullout couch/bed.
You are awoken in the morning by growling. You sit up quickly and look out the window next to the door.
Zombies. And several of them. They have wandered up and down the street, surrounding you on one side. If you could get out the door, and past the horde, you could outrun them and head north again.
> You search the trailer for another weapon
Not wanting to waste bullets, you scrounge around the trailer for something sharp. Eventually, you find a piece of plastic that looks like it used to be part of a canteen. Nonetheless, it's sharp.
You open the trailer door and slice away, just like with the glass shard. You're able to clear a small opening for you to charge through, and you make it away from the horde at a running speed.
After you've slowed to a walk, you notice another building coming up. It looks kind of like a factory building. It has several floors, is made of brick. Three smokestacks jut out of the building's roof. it seems worthwhile to check out, so you run up to it. You are disappointed to learn that the entrance is surrounded by fencing.
| 3 |
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| 2 | false |
"We can work this out," you say. The man lowers his gun. "I'm listening."
> You offer half your supplies
"Half our supplies," you offer. "Please, just let us pass. We need to get somewhere, quickly." You search for any sign of anything behind the man's eyes. You find nothing. "Sorry," he says. "But unless you have a better offer than our current demands, this won't turn out well for you."
| 3 |
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| 0 | false |
"We can work this out," you say. The man lowers his gun. "I'm listening."
> You offer your gas
"Gas," you say. "You can have it. Just leave us enough to get out. You can take the rest." The man doesn't even consider it. "Look around you, stupid. Do you see a single functioning car?" You look around. "NO!" the man yells. "We don't have 'em 'cause we don't need 'em. If you don't start making me a good offer, I'm just gonna have to start taking without asking first."
| 2 |
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| 4 | false |
You begin to get a bad feeling about the place. The empty buildings and atmosphere feel a lot more sinister now than they did a second ago. Your instincts kick in, and you try to drive away.
You quickly find that the roads have been blocked off by debris. They're herding you in a certain direction. You can't get out of the car, either, as you start to see other people watching you out of buildings and behind trash cans. In a last ditch effort to get away, you throw the minivan in reverse.
As you try to back out, you see something: a large truck blocks the way out. They've sealed the road behind you. A man holding a golf club comes out of a nearby building and starts running toward the minivan. In total panic, you speed down the road, away from the truck.
Barbara is gripping her armrests in fear. You would be, but both your hands are on the steering wheel. You drive down the road, exactly where they want you to. You can hear the truck following closely behind you. Suddenly, you drive into a dead end. The way forward is blocked. The truck pulls to a stop behind you, trapping you.
You have no choice but to get out of the car. A mob of people has gathered around your vehicle. Your group follows suit, and gets out of the car.
"Okay, let's not waste time. Give us your stuff, and your car, and we'll escort you to your new home," barks a large, bald man. The crowd of angry people with their guns pointed at you reminds you that you'll have to speak carefully.
> You give up your supplies
"It's all in the trailer," you say, which is true. The man looks behind him, and snaps his fingers. "Boys, unload the trailer." He turns back to you. "Now that that's out of the way, I will be happy to escort you to your new home."
> You attack
You pretend to walk over to the minivan to surrender the keys. Everyone's eyes are on you. You open the door, and grab a gun out of its holster. No one can see you. You ponder who to shoot first. "Well?" the man taunts. "Am I getting the keys or not?" Decision made.
You thought you could be quick enough to shoot somebody. But you didn't even pull the trigger. Not once.
| 4 |
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| 4 | false |
You won't let the man continue. You draw your gun and shoot both men down. They were at close range, but it still took a few shots. Once they're dead, you go up to the victim. His face is swollen, and his nose is bleeding. He flinches, expecting you to attack him too.
> You leave the hostage
You can't take in a new member, and you also can't trust him. You leave him tied to the pole, get back in the car, and drive off.
| 3 |
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| 0 | false |
You won't let the man continue. You draw your gun and shoot both men down. They were at close range, but it still took a few shots. Once they're dead, you go up to the victim. His face is swollen, and his nose is bleeding. He flinches, expecting you to attack him too.
> You take the hostage with you
You can't leave the man out here like this. It's not safe. You untie the rope holding him to the pole. He gives you a look of pure gratitude. You have him hide in the trailer, and you take off.
> You keep going
There's no time to waste. You gunshots echoed throughout the area, and you doubt those two were alone. With the man hiding in your trailer, you try to drive away.
You quickly find that the roads have been blocked off by debris. They're herding you in a certain direction. You can't get out of the car, either, as you start to see other people watching you out of buildings and behind trash cans. In a last ditch effort to get away, you throw the minivan in reverse.
As you try to back out, you see something: a large truck blocks the way out. They've sealed the road behind you. A man holding a golf club comes out of a nearby building and starts running toward the minivan. In total panic, you speed down the road, away from the truck.
Barbara is gripping her armrests in fear. You would be, but both your hands are on the steering wheel. You drive down the road, exactly where they want you to. You can hear the truck following closely behind you. Suddenly, you drive into a dead end. The way forward is blocked. The truck pulls to a stop behind you, trapping you.
You have no choice but to get out of the car. A mob of people has gathered around your vehicle. Your group follows suit, but the former hostage stays in your trailer.
"Okay, let's not waste time. Give us our hostage, your stuff, and your car, and we'll escort you to your new home," barks a large, bald man. The crowd of angry people with their guns pointed at you reminds you that you'll have to speak carefully.
> You give up the hostage
Slowly, with your arms raised, you walk over to the trailer, and open the door. The hostage steps out with his arms raised. "Wonderful," the man says. He grabs the hostage by the shirt collar and hands him over to another man, who drags him away. "Anything else?"
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
There's no time to waste. You gunshots echoed throughout the area, and you doubt those two were alone. With the man hiding in your trailer, you try to drive away.
You quickly find that the roads have been blocked off by debris. They're herding you in a certain direction. You can't get out of the car, either, as you start to see other people watching you out of buildings and behind trash cans. In a last ditch effort to get away, you throw the minivan in reverse.
As you try to back out, you see something: a large truck blocks the way out. They've sealed the road behind you. A man holding a golf club comes out of a nearby building and starts running toward the minivan. In total panic, you speed down the road, away from the truck.
Barbara is gripping her armrests in fear. You would be, but both your hands are on the steering wheel. You drive down the road, exactly where they want you to. You can hear the truck following closely behind you. Suddenly, you drive into a dead end. The way forward is blocked. The truck pulls to a stop behind you, trapping you.
You have no choice but to get out of the car. A mob of people has gathered around your vehicle. Your group follows suit, but the former hostage stays in your trailer.
"Okay, let's not waste time. Give us our hostage, your stuff, and your car, and we'll escort you to your new home," barks a large, bald man. The crowd of angry people with their guns pointed at you reminds you that you'll have to speak carefully.
> You more than food
You slowly walk over to the trailer to hand over the supplies. When you open the door, the hostage comes out with his arms raised. "Well, look who it is," the man says. "Thought you could sneak this one past us?" Another person from the crowd takes him away. Then the man snaps his fingers. "Boys, unload the trailer. I want to see what I got."
After the men have searched through the trailer, the man turns to you. "Now that we have your stuff, I will escort you to your new home."
| 4 |
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| 3 | false |
You refuse to let some stupid sign deter you. Who are the 'Followers' anyway? You don't care. You and Mikey get out, and move the chain link fencing.
After that, it seems like smooth sailing. You do start to notice, however, that the place seems less quality here. Graffiti covers the area, and certain buildings are just gone.
Suddenly, you see something off to the side of the road. There are three men standing off in a secluded alley. One of them is tied to a pole. The other two are mercilessly beating him with pieces of metal.
> You keep driving
You watch over the scene. The attackers seem like hardened thieves. Getting in a confrontation wouldn't be wise. You slowly drive past the scene. As you do, the victim of the beatings gives you a long, cold stare in between blows to the face.
| 4 |
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| 1 | false |
After everything is packed up, you do one last check to make sure you didn't forget anything. You find a few water bottles in a vending machine, but nothing else. You say goodbye to your makeshift home, and get in the driver's seat of the minivan.
On the road, you follow roads that you know to head north. You try to stay and back roads, just in case you run into anything. You're determined to make it to Washington.
While driving, Barbara thinks to open up the glove box. The group is rewarded with a U.S. map and another bottle of water. You set the map up on the dashboard so you can see it while driving. You decide to follow I-5 north, which should take you right up to Washington.
Your trip is cut short after a few miles when you come to a blockade in the road. A chain fence was haphazardly set up in the middle of the road. A handmade sign hanging from it reads: FOLLOWERS' TERRITORY. TRESPASSERS WILL BE LOOTED AND FED TO THE DEAD.
> You try to find a way around
Heeding the warning of the sign, you decide to change direction. You look on the map and find an alternate route. You'll be able to loop around and rejoin I-5 after some time.
As you drive, you begin to notice something is very wrong. You expected to be out of range of whoever the 'Followers' are, but graffiti and roadblocks suggest otherwise. Zombies have been staked to the ground on the side of the road. garbage cans have been laid out to block the roads, and a few of them have fires going in them.
"We need to turn around," you say. Nobody objects, so you throw the car in reverse. You back into the grass, and turn around so that you can pick a different route. But, when you turn, you see a man walk out into the middle of the road. He has something in his hands, but you can't tell what it is. It looks like a bat, or an axe. Suddenly, you see a car driving up the road toward you.
By this time, you realize the mistake you made. You try to turn around to see if you can get out of the backroads, and away from these people. You end up knocking over some trash cans and putting dents in the car, but that's currently the least of your worries. You start to see that forks in the road have been blocked off completely. They're herding you in a certain direction. With the roadblocks, the zombies, and the car behind you, you have nowhere to go.
You have no choice but to follow the intended path for you. You eventually end up in a section of the road that's walled off completely. When you stop, the car behind you stops, blocking you in. A group of people approaches the car from behind roadblocks and trees. Every single one of them is armed with either a gun or a large melee weapon. One man, who is bald and wearing a blood-soaked apron, walks up to your car. He clutches a metal bar in his meaty fist.
"Knock, knock, knock," he says, hitting the top of your car with every word. "Come on out, so we can see our kill." You freeze with fear. The man leans down into the window. "Get out of the car," he says. You slowly open the door, and the man steps aside to let you out. When the four of you are out of the car, The man addresses all of you.
"So," he starts, "Apparently you didn't pay attention to our little warning. This is our turf, and anyone who enters our turf, becomes our property. You four, and everything you have, is ours now. I'm gonna need the keys to your car, and then I'm gonna need you all to step aside, so I can escort you away."
Mikey is the first to act. He gets back in the car, and comes up a moment later with a gun. He points it at the bald man. "Leave us alone," he says.
The man laughs. "Silly boy. Young kids like you shouldn't play with guns," he says. He snaps his fingers, and a small group of men from the crowd steps forward. They rip the gun out of Mikey's hands, and pull him out of view.
"Hey," you say. "Listen, I'm sorry we trespassed, but I don't want any trouble. Please, please, just let us pass. We don't want to bother or hurt anyone. We just have somewhere to be. Can't you-"
The man cuts you off by hitting you in the head with his metal bar. "Fool! Stop trying to plead your case! I told you how it's gonna be! We get your stuff, and you're gonna die!"
> You attack him
Without hesitation, you jump out at the man. You grab the bar and hold it against his neck, choking him. Behind you, you hear the others leap into action.
"I told you," you say, "Just let us go. But you wouldn't listen. Now we have to-"
You are suddenly pulled off of the man and stabbed in the side. You shriek in pain, and your attacker drops you onto the road. "I tried to tell you," the man says. "But you just wouldn't listen." The man brings the bar down onto your head, caving your skull in.
| 2 |
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| 8 | false |
It probably was just the wind, no need to be paranoid. You hop in bed and close your eyes.
“Cat---”
Your head is struck making you collapse.
“They may have taken my job, but they didn’t take my sword.”
“Lars?” You ask through blurred vision.
“Why yes, it’s me, demon! You really think I believed you survived on pure luck?"
He looks completely unhinged. You try to say something but just start coughing blood. It comes out in chunks resembling mashed berries.
“You really thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? HAHAHAHA! I know you’ve been possessed by a demon; how else could you survive the frigid cold?”
Clumps of blood continue flying out of your mouth as you fail to speak. Lars crotches down next to you and strokes your face.
“It’s ok, calm down. Like I told you before, or at least the non-possessed you, the city could use some heating up.”
Where is this going?
“I want to make a deal with you! Kill the Captain and I’ll let you live. Hell, I’ll even give you something in exchange. Perhaps a part of my soul? If there’s anything left in there.”
> You shake your head
That’s the last thing you do before passing out.
And the last thing you’ll ever do as Lars makes no attempt at reliving you.
End...
| 2 |
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| 7 | false |
“No preference? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” says Connor.
“He must think he’s not having any children. I guess he’s into dudes.” Replies Tom.
“Yeah I think you’re right. I swear I saw him eyeing Greg.”
You feel the bile rising in the back of your throat. They think you’re attracted to that disgusting little worm? People usually don’t get under you skin so much but this time it’s different. You’re about to fuck a hot demon bitch and the idea of being attracted to Greg is NOT what you need right now.
“Do you really want to know why I don’t give a fuck about your pointless hypothetical?”
“Well, yeah.”
You take a deep breath and begin to describe your recent encounter with a succubus.
“Well it all started when I fell asleep during guard duty”.
One convoluted story later.
“And that’s why I came to this tavern,” you say with a cheeky grin.
Your story gets mixed reactions.
“You’re not actually going through with this are you?” asks Tom.
“Ok so you’re attracted to some demon bitch. I still saw you eyeing Greg for at least the past hour.”
And strangest of all,
“Wait aren’t succubi immortal? And they don’t have dicks! Well, at least I assume they don’t”.
You don’t engage with any of them and feel compelled to go home. Although, Tom’s words are giving you second thoughts. Should you wait a few days before even thinking about seeing the succubus?
> You leave now!
The trio begins arguing again. Something about how demon immortality is different than regular immortality. You don’t have time to dwell on it and make your way home. You find yourself grinning the whole walk back. This isn’t just a happy drunk feeling. You feel like this is your purpose. It’s time to see Catia.
You find yourself exiting out of the slums and into the residential part of the city. Most guards sleep in the barracks, however, since your parents never returned from their trip their house is all yours. If they ever return, you hope they don’t mind you bringing a demon inside the house. Although, they were always bugging you about finding a girlfriend, this might not be what they had in mind.
You arrive at your parent’s old home and turn the door knob. The wooden door squeaks loudly as you open it.
“Some things never change,” you whisper to yourself.
You immediately start making yourself more presentable. You change out of your soldiers’ uniform and put on a loose-fitting black tunic. You probably should take a bath but you're too excited to see Catia that you forget to. Do demons mind odor?
“Catia.”
A dark cloud appears in your room, dispelling a toxic fume. You start violently coughing as your vision blurs indiscriminately. Your eyes shut close and you feel you grip on reality slipping away from you.
“Ah shit,” you whisper before passing out.
Your eyes jitter open and you’re greeted by Catia stroking your face. Her palm flushes the coolness off your face. Beads of sweat drip furiously down your neck as she continues caressing you.
“Couldn’t wait a single day before seeing me again? How cute.”
She crawls onto your bed and moves closer to you. Her aura is all consuming and you feel your free will being drained away. Yet, the whole process is extremely pleasing to you. She moves her mouth to your ear and whispers,
“Do you want to see everything I have to offer?”
You bite your tongue to avoid instinctively shouting yes. This may be your last chance to not go through with this. At the very least, it would give you chance to ask her a few more questions.
| 3 |
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| 7 | false |
“I’ll help you to stop the destruction.”
“Great!”
Aria conjures a portal made of dark matter.
“Quick get in before it closes.”
You jump in, not knowing your destination. After a short transit, you find yourself outside of a tree house. You wanted to live in a tree house as a child, but now that your in front of one, they don’t seem very practical.
“How do I get inside?" you wonder aloud.
“The ladder.”
“Why didn’t I think of that! Thank you voice inside my head.”
“You're welcome, now free me from this ethereal prison.”
This must be who Aria was talking about, but you want to make sure.
“Say, what’s your name?”
“Amlodipine Olmesartan Medoxomil, but you may call me Azor for short.”
You climb the ladder and enter a room with wooden floors and walls.
“Why are you so fixated on the floors and walls? What did you expect a tree house to be made of?”
You don’t answer and continue examining your surroundings. A table lies in the center of the room aligned with various trinkets. One that catches your eye is a glowing red crystal ball. Your first instinct is to break it but you resist the temptation.
“What are you waiting for, mortal? Free me from this ethereal trap at once!”
> You keep looking around
You continue searching the tree house until you find a book. It's titled in a language you don't understand. You pick it up to get and a closer look and it seems to be some sort of spell book.
"Don't read that!" screams Azor.
But it's too late, you've already opened the book. You poof into nothingness and die in unpredictable fashion.
| 2 |
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| 3 | false |
You pump your muscles and start running back to the city walls. She follows you like a hawk, soaring above you with her wings. Once she’s directly above she swoops in. Too late though as you bolt through the city entrance. You keep running straight and dive into a nearby bush. You stop breathing and don’t dare move. You can sense that she is nearby, but she doesn’t seem to be trying to kill you anymore. Instead, you hear screaming in a nearby house followed by laughing.
Curiosity gets the better of you and you peak out from the bushes. You spot her in a house cornering a family. You know demons are monsters, but what benefit is there to killing innocent children and their parents? It’s senseless, what’s the point of destruction for destruction sake? You continue starring at her as she slashes the throat of presumably a father. But for some reason, she does not kill him.
What she does is much worse. She leaves him alive to watch as she sends a ball of red energy at the children. It renders them into ash, not giving them a chance to scream. You curse at yourself for indirectly causing this. Why did you listen to a demon anyways? You keep watching in nervous anticipation of her killing the father. Instead, she just leaves. What cruelty propels such an atrocious action? This man has lost all that’s dear to him, and she left him alive.
You stay in the bushes as she goes from house to house committing similar acts of violence. There must be a stop to the madness. You gather the courage to leave your bush haven. You dash away back to your home and fling the door open. Your immediately reaction is to get your sword and leather armor to slay the demon. Yet, the logical side of your mind tells you that’s suicide. There's another way, although you don’t want to admit it. What if you got drunk and contacted Catia to save your city? She saved your life before, maybe she can do it again?
> You contact Catia
How could you possibly save your city and survive? As much as you don’t want to admit it, you can’t win without some help. You sprint to the drunk tortoise tavern (which luckily is on the opposite side of the city that is being terrorized) and bust through the door. It’s completely empty aside from a single person.
“Long time no see bud.”
It’s Greg, he has bright red cheeks and is swaying slightly.
“Why are you still here? There’s a demon on a murder rampage outside!”
He chuckles then says,
“Sometimes you don’t want to be saved. I’m staying here and if I die, so be it.”
“Well let me join you,” you say with no intention of sitting around to die.
You and Greg sit together and talk about all sorts of things while drinking. This isn’t like the before, when the conversation revolved around meaningless hypotheticals. You delve into some deep shit in a relatively short amount of time. You talk about politics, the meaning of life, and what happens after you die. While this is all going on, the demon continues massacring your entire city. Oops, looks like getting drunk has made you forget your priorities. When the realization dawns on you after a few drinks, you waste no time in shouting,
“Catia!”
Greg squints at you, clearly remembering the name from the last time you talked. This look of curiosity turns into horror as a swirling red cloud appears in front of you. Catia stands before you but looks much different than before. Unlike her human-like form, she has dark red skin and humongous bat wings.
“You call me once again, how pathetic are you?”
This question strikes you with surprise as it’s the first time she has shown open hostility towards you. Greg on the other hand begins laughing, then says,
“Is this the demon that’s been destroying the city? Man, I thought it would be at least a little bigger than that. I know it's rich coming from me, but damn how can something as small as that destroy the city?”
“Shut up already Greg! This isn’t the demon that’s been attacking the city.”
Greg looks at you in confusion as Catia speaks up,
“He's right you know, I haven’t killed a single person in weeks. That is, until now.”
Catia takes to the air and flies towards Greg. His drunken state makes him slow to react as Catia rips his throat out. Blood sprays everywhere like a broken faucet.
“Who’s the small one now, bitch?”
“Jeez I know he was asking for it, but you didn’t have to kill him.”
Catia turns her head towards you and shows no remorse. Her pupils have shrunk, giving her eyes a milk white appearance.
“This is all your fault, why couldn’t you have just listened to Aria?”
She advances towards you, snarling like a wild beast.
“Wait just a second I didn’t have a chance—“
And you didn’t have a chance to finish that sentence either as Catia pulls your throat off your body like a soldier grabs a sword off a rack. You die in a puddle of mixed, throat extracted, blood.
| 3 |
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| 12 | false |
You sit on your throne, resting your head on your blade as Thraka Flameborn and Elder Dokt tell you about the village's state of affairs.
"There's been a change in the management of the College of Alexandria. They've begun to accept Orc students." Thraka says to you.
"Well, this is very good for racial relations, but what do the Red Blades care?"
"There are many more profitable jobs that can be found if you work in the College. We could greatly improve their lives."
"These jobs would take these people away from profiting the Red Blades, cost massive amounts of money, and mots likely they wouldn't receive these jobs for being Orcs. These students wouldn't be able to get the jobs, and they wouldn't be taught how to farm or fight, so when they came back here without jobs, they couldn't work here."
"The Elder exaggerates greatly. There's plenty of work ot be found, especially with Orcs. Learning at the College of Alexandria would mean that our children would have better lives."
You briefly consider the thought. Perhaps the Young Orcs would have better lives in and after the College, but it would definitely take away from the tribe's size, and perhaps the Orcs would be left untrained in manual labor or the ability to find actual work after discrimination stops them from finding educated work.
> You don't send young Orcs to the College
You decide against sending away the Orcs. They wouldn't be able to learn important skills such as farming, fighting, hunting and cooking, only to be left with skills in money-handling or Magics that don't help them in their life.
| 3 |
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| 3 | false |
You sit on your throne in the Main Hall, in the midst of a feast to celebrate the death of Chieftain Dadic, your Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, who was brutally stabbed to death by Elven Assassins. Despite being unarmed, surprised and quite old, he put up a grand fight. Twenty Elves entered this very great hall to assassinate him, three went out. Thraka and Dokt stand on either side of you. For once, they both agree on what you should do, although Thraka's much more brutally honest.
"Find a girl to fuck." He says.
"What Thraka Flameborn means is..."
"To get your dick inside a girl." Thraka laughs, to Dokt's embarrassment and frustration.
"Chieftain, every Chieftain needs one to share their soul with. You need a mate." Dokt says.
You survey the room. You spot a young Orc girl dancing in the crowd. She's small and cute, and you briefly make eye contact. She gives you a flirty wink. A pretty girl would do good to help you survive the cold winter nights.
Making use of the drink and food is a tall warrior. Her head is cut short and she has a large, impressive blade on her side. A warrior is someone you could relate to and respect as a mate.
One the opposite side (both of the room and orientation), a youngish Orc stands quietly, a leatherbound book in his hands. He looks intelligent, but also has soft features and a nice smile, which he quickly flashes at you.
Finally, there's a massive beat of an Orc holding a blade that could cleave horses in half with one blow leans against a wall. You recognize him as Ironsoul, a fantastic warrior notorious for spending large amounts of time in brothels in the company of Orcs who choose to have an adventurous life working in the brothel rather than on the battlefield.
> You talk to the feasting Orc
You walk over to the feasting Orc and sit next to her.
"Hello. Are you enjoying the food?"
The Orc raises an eyebrow, decides you're not joking, and nods.
"Yes, Chieftain."
"I don't recognize you. What's your name?"
"Dag. Dag Unbroken."
"Unbroken? How do you get a title like that?"
"I've broken every bone inside my body besides my right shin."
"Fuck me." You say, obviously impressed.
"I'm not opposed to the idea." Dag says.
At that moment, you realize picking up warriors is a lot easier than you thought.
> You continue spending time with Dag
You spend the next few hours talking with your newfound mate. Dag is strong, though, aggressive and violent, which reminds you of a more "you" you. You'll make sure that your relationship continues and develops into what could be a prosperous marriage.
| 4 |
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| 1 | false |
You sit on your throne in the Main Hall, in the midst of a feast to celebrate the death of Chieftain Dadic, your Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, who was brutally stabbed to death by Elven Assassins. Despite being unarmed, surprised and quite old, he put up a grand fight. Twenty Elves entered this very great hall to assassinate him, three went out. Thraka and Dokt stand on either side of you. For once, they both agree on what you should do, although Thraka's much more brutally honest.
"Find a girl to fuck." He says.
"What Thraka Flameborn means is..."
"To get your dick inside a girl." Thraka laughs, to Dokt's embarrassment and frustration.
"Chieftain, every Chieftain needs one to share their soul with. You need a mate." Dokt says.
You survey the room. You spot a young Orc girl dancing in the crowd. She's small and cute, and you briefly make eye contact. She gives you a flirty wink. A pretty girl would do good to help you survive the cold winter nights.
Making use of the drink and food is a tall warrior. Her head is cut short and she has a large, impressive blade on her side. A warrior is someone you could relate to and respect as a mate.
One the opposite side (both of the room and orientation), a youngish Orc stands quietly, a leatherbound book in his hands. He looks intelligent, but also has soft features and a nice smile, which he quickly flashes at you.
Finally, there's a massive beat of an Orc holding a blade that could cleave horses in half with one blow leans against a wall. You recognize him as Ironsoul, a fantastic warrior notorious for spending large amounts of time in brothels in the company of Orcs who choose to have an adventurous life working in the brothel rather than on the battlefield.
> You talk to the reading Orc
"I like him." You say, pointing to the reading Orc.
"What, Sarunt? He's a male, he can't bear your children." Dokt says, annoyed.
"Many Chieftains were adopted. Dadic, for fuck's sake."
Dokt rolls his eyes, but nods. You stand from the throne, and walk down to Sarunt.
You walk over to the reading Orc, and smile.
"Hello."
"Hello." He replies, looking up from his book.
"I am Chieftain Mazkil."
He chuckles.
"I might spend far too much time in a book, but I still know enough to know who the Chieftain is."
"Ah. Good." You reply, awkwardly.
You realize while you're very skilled and courageous in the art of warfare, you suck at flirting. Thankfully, he's better and very interested.
"So, do you want to get a drink, Mazkil?"
You nod eagerly, and head over to the drink stand.
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
The next day, you walk along the street, Thraka and Doct off managing your work for a while. You survey your village. Children are brawling in the streets, the elders are drinking and the adults are working. Everything's good. You think to yourself. You notice a young Orc woman who's name you haven't learnt, and feel a pang in your heart as you notice how beautiful she is. You feel a pang in another place, but that's neither here nor there. You realize that one of, and perhaps the best, duty of the Chieftain is to have a heir to the throne and get married. You'll try find someone soon enough. Not today, though. You continue strolling around the village, before you notice at the edge of town, a trail of caravans approaching. You raise an eyebrow, as there are no scheduled caravans set to arrive over the next few days. You walk up, and to your surprise, notice the caravaneers are not the Orcs you're used to seeing. They're all men. Usually there's a few men mixed in with the Orcs that run the caravans. You walk over to the caravan.
"Hey! Who are you, then?" You ask loudly.
The Humans on board are wearing red cloth with gold Eagle symbols embroidered on them.
"Greetings! I am Giorgio Lates. I am a merchant from the Kingdom of Mankind."
"I recognize the sigil. What do you want?"
"I am a merchant, kind sir. Orcs are famous for their steelwork, and I had the pleasure of working with some Orc Mercenaries. They're blades, axes and maces are unrivaled, except for Elvish blades, which are as easy to find as an honest merchant. Which, you so happen to have found." Giorgio says, winking.
"You wish to buy blades?"
"Buy? Not exactly. I doubt you have much use for my gold. I wish to swap, to barter, to trade."
"For what?"
"We have much to trade. Food, Drink, Steel, Iron, Wool, Jewelry, Gold, Silver and much, much more. We wish to open up a trade route between here and the Empire." Giorgio grins.
You frown. Traders are prone to take advantage of humble villages like yours. The Village is also dedicated to crops, farm work and general self-sufficiency. To increase your smithing and weapons production, you'd need to sacrifice your self-sufficiency. Still, it could increase your village's profit and the standard of living.
> You don't agree to trade with the Kingdom of Man
"No. I will not sell the honor and heart of this village to some merchants only to be ripped off later."
The Merchant's face falls and he immediately turns ratty.
"Fine. Let this village become an abandoned ghost town in the hills that your children will be dying to get out off. Let's go!"
The Merchant Caravans begins to turn around and leave. You know that you've saved your little town from being steam rolled by the massive trade machine of the Kingdom of Man.
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
You spot smoke just in the distance, where the raiders are presumably camped.
"Orcs!" You loudly whisper. "To arms! We'll wipe out the fiends to the last man."
You move forward slowly, further through the woods. You arrive at the edge of a small glade. There is a large opening where there's several dozen tents. A group of around thirty Orcs wearing chainmail armor and wielding axes, short swords and maces. You give a few hushed orders to various Orcs to target the various flanks to make sure not a single raider survives. Then, you raise your sword.
"CHARGE!" You roar, sprinting forward.
The Raiders are quickly taken by surprise, grabbing any nearby weapons and raising them in defense. You swing your sword, which bites into one of their necks and beheads him in one clean sweep. You kick a second to the floor with one swift kick to the head, knocking him to the floor. You raise your sword and stab downwards, going through the raider's stomach. Within a few seconds, the fighting is over. The raiders have been quickly wiped out to the last orc, leaving none alive.
"This was quicker than I had hoped." One of the Orcs remarks.
"Orders, Chieftain?" Another asks, turning to you.
"Burn the tents, the bodies and take anything worth taking." You reply.
"Yes, Chieftain Mazkil."
Your men quickly begin removing armor, weapons and jewelry from the dead Orcs, and wrapping their corpses in tents. Once this is finished with all the corpses, they set the wrapped corpses alight, which quickly begin burning. You sniff the air, and smell the delicious smell of sizzling flesh.
"Chieftain! I counted the amount of beds versus corpses. Twenty dead raiders, but there's over eighty beds."
"There's more! We believe there's at least sixty more raiders off on a mission at the moment. Orders, Chieftain?"
One of the Orcs, one of the very few archers you've brought, Kanim Darkwit, steps forward.
"Sir. The Raiders will be hungry and tired. They'll be here soon. We can lay an ambush. There's a good vantage point in one of the trees..."
"Coward! Where's your honor, boy?" Another Orc, Jakku Bearsbane, roars. "We're not abandoning all honor and reason in favor of hiding like does! We find the raiders, and wipe them out to the last man."
> You lay an ambush
"Darkwit. Your plan is good. Jakku, I'm not leading my men into a charge when we have the perfect trap right here."
"Yes, Chieftain." Jakku nods.
You have Darkwit hide in a vantage point in the trees, the bodies stacked into defensive walls to block enemy escape once they've entered the killzone. You have warriors hide at various points to be able to charge the killzone once the raiders have arrived. You patiently wait, hidden in bushes and undergrowth. One hour passes quickly, the second takes long, but after two and a half hours, the raiders are here. They march, three Caravans in tow, no doubt from a recent raid. They break into a jog when they sight the camp, heading straight into the killzone while confused and unprepared.
"STRIKE!" You roar.
You break into a run, swinging your blade. The Raiders are surrounded, and they're simply unprepared to face you. You swing your blade downwards, hacking off an arm, and headbutt a raider before running him through with your sword. You dodge an axe swing and cleave the Orc in half. You launch yourself into the fray, and hack a raider to death. The Raiders are beginning to turn and run now, but you slice the back of the legs of one of them and stab them through the chest, breaking through their armor and into the soft flesh beneath. The rest manage to make it past the junk walls you've set up and head off to find safety.
"Chieftain! We are victorious!" Darkwit laughs happily.
"Losses? Kills?" You ask.
One of the scouts quickly begins tallying the dead, and turns to you.
"Sir! We lost six men. They lost forty nine."
Darkwit grins.
"Yes! I told you my plan would work. We almost wiped them out and lost very few."
"Yes. Have the scouts find our dead and bring them back to the village for the funeral pyre. Orcs, let's head home."
| 4 |
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| 9 | false |
You spot smoke just in the distance, where the raiders are presumably camped.
"Orcs!" You loudly whisper. "To arms! We'll wipe out the fiends to the last man."
You move forward slowly, further through the woods. You arrive at the edge of a small glade. There is a large opening where there's several dozen tents. A group of around thirty Orcs wearing chainmail armor and wielding axes, short swords and maces. You give a few hushed orders to various Orcs to target the various flanks to make sure not a single raider survives. Then, you raise your sword.
"CHARGE!" You roar, sprinting forward.
The Raiders are quickly taken by surprise, grabbing any nearby weapons and raising them in defense. You swing your sword, which bites into one of their necks and beheads him in one clean sweep. You kick a second to the floor with one swift kick to the head, knocking him to the floor. You raise your sword and stab downwards, going through the raider's stomach. Within a few seconds, the fighting is over. The raiders have been quickly wiped out to the last orc, leaving none alive.
"This was quicker than I had hoped." One of the Orcs remarks.
"Orders, Chieftain?" Another asks, turning to you.
"Burn the tents, the bodies and take anything worth taking." You reply.
"Yes, Chieftain Mazkil."
Your men quickly begin removing armor, weapons and jewelry from the dead Orcs, and wrapping their corpses in tents. Once this is finished with all the corpses, they set the wrapped corpses alight, which quickly begin burning. You sniff the air, and smell the delicious smell of sizzling flesh.
"Chieftain! I counted the amount of beds versus corpses. Twenty dead raiders, but there's over eighty beds."
"There's more! We believe there's at least sixty more raiders off on a mission at the moment. Orders, Chieftain?"
One of the Orcs, one of the very few archers you've brought, Kanim Darkwit, steps forward.
"Sir. The Raiders will be hungry and tired. They'll be here soon. We can lay an ambush. There's a good vantage point in one of the trees..."
"Coward! Where's your honor, boy?" Another Orc, Jakku Bearsbane, roars. "We're not abandoning all honor and reason in favor of hiding like does! We find the raiders, and wipe them out to the last man."
> You search out and lead a charge against the Raiders
"Darkwit, go, take who you need and scout ahead for the raiders. Jakku, make sure the men are ready. We''re going to charge the raiders and wipe them out to the last orc."
"Yes, Chieftain." Jakku barks, before running away.
The Orcs quickly regroup as the scouts sprint off in search of the raiders. You wait with your allies for two hours, before one of the scouts breaks through the treeline.
"Chieftain! They're coming! They were about an hours march away last I saw, but at the pace they were moving they're only half an hour away."
"Good. Let's move. Orcs! Get ready to fight. In fifteen minutes, our swords'll be deep in Raider blood."
The Orcs all bark responses in the affirmative, and you begin moving forward towards the raiders. It seems the scout under-exaggerated the raiders speed, because it takes twenty minute to finally meet the raiders. A massive group of Orcs, with three Merchant Caravans in tow, no doubt from a recent raid.
"Orcs! Now is the time to spill blood! CHARGE!" You scream.
You raise your sword, charging forward with your Orcs. The Raiders aren't prepared to fight, but they're still armed from their previous raid and they're still Orcs. You swing your blade downwards, hacking off an arm, and headbutt a raider before running him through with your sword. You dodge an axe swing and cleave the Orc in half. A Warhammer smacks you in the chest, launching you backwards. Your head bangs against a tree, and you stand and charge forward again. You launch yourself into the fray, and hack a raider to death. The Raiders are beginning to turn and run now, but you slice the back of the legs of one of them and stab them through the chest, breaking through their armor and into the soft flesh beneath.
"Chieftain! We are victorious!" Jakku roars happily.
"Losses? Kills?" You ask.
One of the scouts quickly begins tallying the dead, and turns to you.
"Sir! We lost thirteen men. They lost thirty seven."
Jakku roars victoriously.
"Yes! I told you we didn't need cowards tactics. We wiped them out and sent the rest running."
"Yes. Have the scouts find our dead and bring them back to the village for the funeral pyre. Orcs, let's head home."
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
You bring up your shield and raise your sword. The warriors quickly take advantage of the situation, attacking the unprepared Orcs attempting to take shelter from the arrows. One of them goes towards you, and swings. You block his sword with your shield and repeatedly jab him through the stomach, the third stab penetrating his armor and going through his stomach, which after a few more stabs kill him.By the time the Orcs manage to fend off the Elven Warriors, they're barely a dozen men, including Khan. The Elves outnumber you, but only slightly, and they clearly either don't like their odds, or figure they've killed enough of your allies today. The warriors quickly turn and go sprinting off into the woods.
> You attack the Archers in the trees
You roar, running forward and jumping in the air. You grab an archer perched on one of the branches who screams, flinging her to the ground. You quickly end her miserable existence, thrusting your sword through her neck. You see another archer leap from the trees in order to escape, but slash his legs, causing him to fall to the ground. You stand above him and stab downward, stabbing him through the chest, killing him. An archer leaps onto you with a hunting knife and slices you across the back of the neck in a failed attempt to murder you. You fling him off your back and to the ground and slice open his stomach. You look up, to see the rest of the archers sprinting incredibly fast away from the battle.
"Don't bother chasing. You can't catch an Elf. They've ran their entire lives, the cowards." Karn says. "Come on men. Let's get back to camp."
> One Day Later...
You sit at the camp, at the edge with a campfire, a pig roasting on a spit. You wait eagerly for your meal, before Captain Darruk arrives.
"Mazkil, come with me for a moment."
You struggle not to snarl in annoyance, knowing you'll miss the best cuts of pork, but nod and follow Darruk anyway. You follow him out of ear range of the camp, before he starts speaking.
"You were with Karn on the mission yesterday, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"We lost a massive amount of men for a mission that important. I need to know: Was it Karn's fault as a leader?"
> You say "Yes."
"Ah. I thought so. The other men's testimony said as much. Thank you. Now go, eat."
You nod, and quickly return to eat. You have to punch one of the smaller Orcs, but you manage to grab a large, juicy piece of meat and eagerly chew into it.
> One Week Later...
You stand around a massive map, showing the Glenin Plains. Captain Durrak begins explaining the situation.
"Captain Rhian is leading the Royal Calvary forward to engage the Elvish Calvary at multiple locations. We're positioned here to launch attacks on the calvary as the rearguard crosses Jacob's Bridge and the small unnamed brick bridge here. I'll lead the main patrol on Jacob's Bridge. Karn, lead a force of your chosen orcs."
"Yes, sir."
Karn chooses two dozen Orcs, to your surprise he hasn't chosen you, for reason's you don't know. You then follow Captain Durrak as you head towards Jacob's Bridge. Thankfully, the Elvish Calvary haven't arrived, so you take up positions.
"Alright, stay low, and don't attack until I say so. Got it?"
"Yes, sir." You all reply in unison.
The Bridge is a large wooden bridge over a massive muddy creek. You take position at the edge of the bridge so you can storm on and wipe out the calvary's rearguard. A large group of Elves aboard beautiful white horses begin galloping past. They gallop past for a good thirty seconds, before there's a small break in the amount of horses galloping past.
"Now! Take them all out!" Captain Durrak roars.
You leap out of the muddy river bank and onto the bridge. The small Elvish Calvary's Rearguard, meant to defend their flanks and make sure they have the option to retreat, is only about three dozen Calvary units, and you have as many Orcs with you. You see the the lead of the rearguard, a golden armored Elvish Warrior, is on a horse which rears up in terror.
> You charge forward to target the leader
You sprint forward with your sword raised, roaring. You slash the horse's chest open, and the horse whinnies in terror. The leader falls from the horse, and you quickly stand over him, raising your blade. Suddenly, a spear flies through your chest, tossed by one of the Calvary Units. You groan as the spear embeds itself in you.
| 3 |
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| 3 | false |
You look around for something to help you out of this predicament, and you find a small bottle of a blue liquid.
> You don't drink it
You decide not to drink it. You know that you need to get moving soon, to escape before nightfall, but hold on to the fact their still might be something useful nearby.
> You drag yourself outside
You drag yourself outside. The village is packed with dead Orcs, Men and War Dogs, interspersed with the golden armored Elves who your allies managed to strike down. You continue dragging yourself forward, passing the dead. Vultures land around you and begin pecking at the corpses. One lands in front of you and pecking at your face.
> You grab the Vulture
You grab the Vulture, tearing the vulture's head off its neck and tossing it aside. You begin dragging yourself forward once more.
> Four Hours Later...
You move your hands forward and find something to drag yourself another few inches forward. Thankfully, the leaves grant you some shade from the hot sun, but the pain's beginning to become unbearable. Then, as if the Gods have all agreed to fuck up your life, you hear wolves.
"Fuck you!" You scream, as three wolves begin prowling towards you.
> You fling your knife at one
You throw your knife, impaling one of the wolves' in the head, killing it instantly. It falls backwards, and you feel pride briefly, before another one of the wolves leaps at you, landing on your chest. It bites down on your chest, tearing through flesh at you let out a scream.
| 3 |
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| 3 | false |
You look through the window from the observation room, down onto the Object placed at the heart of the chamber. Protruding from the walls are all manner of scientific gadgetry, so that the tests can be carried out remotely, and hopefully more safely, from the observation room.
It has been two and a half months of all manner of tests, such as bathing the Object in various forms of radiation, scanning it with all manner of sensors, trying tests in normal air and in a vacuum, and that sort of thing. So far, the Object has just sat there. It could continue to do nothing at all. It could just be a solid chunk of lifeless metal for all anyone knew. That's what you are beginning to think, anyhow.
Of course, the Government and Military representatives were "completely positive" that something would happen eventually. And they got to monitor the tests from another facilitiy eighty kilometers away - just in case the Object happened to be a bomb of some sort. That was really reassuring for you.
"Come on, Jones, let's get to work," Hammond says, the doors to the observation room swishing shut behind him as he arrives.
> You say "Sure. So, what are we going to do to it today?"
"Okay, we're doing Gamma Radiation today. Why don't you get us started, spin the dial to five, will you?" Hammond says, leaning over one of the consoles, and peering through the window at the Object below.
> You turn the dial to five.
"Here goes nothing," you say as you turn the dial to five.
Both of you look out through the window at the Object in the chamber beyond. A long mechanical arm unbends from the wall, with a large emitter on the end. It slowly powers up, and you watch a counter slowly tick up from zero. Invisible gamma radiation begins to bathe the Object from the emitter.
As the counter begins to pass four, something happens!
There is a flash of light, almost blinding your eyes, and then-
> You (continue)
Hammond yawns, leaning back in his chair. "Well, there goes another day of useless tests, Jones," he says.
"What the-" you stammer, looking around you. The clock on the wall says it is early in the evening outside. You glance at the dial for the gamma radiation emitter, and it is turned off, set to zero. Out through the window, the Object just sits there doing nothing, as usual.
Hammond notices the look on your face, "What's wrong?"
> You tell him what happened.
"Hammond, what just happened?" you ask him, bewildered.
"What do you mean? We just completed another day of the same old boring tests that seem to have achieved nothing at all," he answers.
"You know what? I think something happened!" you say, confusion giving way to excitement. Something was finally taking place!
"What are you talking about Jones?" he says, tired and in no mood for games.
"The last thing I remember, I was turning the gamma radiation dial to five. The counter passed four, and there was a flash of light! The next thing I know, I was standing here and the day was over!" you explain, bursting with excitement.
"Is this some sort of joke," he says, standing up, and getting his things, ready to go home. "Look, Jones, we tested it for gamma, we zapped it with more x-rays, we doubled the air pressure, we tried to cut it open with lasers! Nothing happened, no lights, no sounds, no anything. Look, you're probably just tired, imagining things. There's nothing so boring as staring through a window at a block of metal that just sits there, for hours on end."
> You stick to your version of what happened.
"I'm telling you Hammond, one moment we were standing there performing the test, the next it was the end of the day!" you exclaim, beginning to feel angry. You're sure of what happened. At least, you think you are...
"Look, Jones, maybe you saw a flashing light, maybe not. It only takes a few minutes to run the gamma radiation test. If you want, we'll throw it back up to five and see what happens. Will that make you happy? Maybe then I can go home and get some sleep," he grumbles.
> You perform the Gamma radiation test again.
"Yes, Hammond. That would make me happy. Let's do the test again," you say.
"Okay, by all means. Turn the dial back to five," he says, shaking his head tiredly.
| 5 |
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| 12 | false |
"Hammond, what just happened?" you ask him, bewildered.
"What do you mean? We just completed another day of the same old boring tests that seem to have achieved nothing at all," he answers.
"You know what? I think something happened!" you say, confusion giving way to excitement. Something was finally taking place!
"What are you talking about Jones?" he says, tired and in no mood for games.
"The last thing I remember, I was turning the gamma radiation dial to five. The counter passed four, and there was a flash of light! The next thing I know, I was standing here and the day was over!" you explain, bursting with excitement.
"Is this some sort of joke," he says, standing up, and getting his things, ready to go home. "Look, Jones, we tested it for gamma, we zapped it with more x-rays, we doubled the air pressure, we tried to cut it open with lasers! Nothing happened, no lights, no sounds, no anything. Look, you're probably just tired, imagining things. There's nothing so boring as staring through a window at a block of metal that just sits there, for hours on end."
> You maybe you just imagined it?
You yawn. Actually, it does feel like you've been working for a whole day. Maybe Hammond was right, maybe you're just tired. Day after day of repetative tests could indeed make everything seem to blur together, after a while.
"Yeah, maybe you're right, Hammond. I guess I should drive home and get a good night's sleep," you say.
"Rest up, and I'm sure you'll feel better tomorrow," he says. "Well, see you later then, I'm off."
Hammond puts on his jacket and heads home.
> You leave the Facility.
You grab your jacket, flick off the lights, and walk out through numerous corridors and doorways. Finally, after passing through two security checkpoints, you reach the garage. Taking your car keys out of your pocket, you hop into your Toyota Aurion V6. You sink into the comfortable seat with a smile. Ah, the perks of your job.
Switching the car on, you pull out of the multi-level garage, and head out onto the road. The Facility was mostly underground, but a large boxy building juts up from the barren surface. Your temporary home, for the duration of the tests, was a house the company purchased in a relatively modern country town an hour's drive away.
It's getting dark outside, but the sky is clear, the moon and stars bright above you. You flick on your headlights, and there is a flash of light as they turn on...
> You waking up to more confusion.
You wake in your bed, in a house that the company has purchased, about an hour's drive from the Factility. Stretching, you get up out of bed. What an odd dream... Something had happened out at the Facility, but you couldn't remember what. Dreams tended to be like that. You were in your car, or something?
Stretching your arms above your head, you bend to each side, stretching your aching muscles, then reach out and open the door to the ensuite.
A fierce, hot wind assails you, and you stumble backwards, your sleepy limbs not prepared. For a moment you just stand there in your underwear in shock. Outside your bedroom, looking through what should be the door to your ensuite, was the desert! You glance out the bedroom window, and it's still there! Bleak, barren desert sands and rocks stretch off to the horizon. Where is the town? More importantly, where is the rest of your house!
> You step outside
Astonished and confused, you open your main bedroom door, to see more desert outside. You step outside, onto the hot sand, to see if it is real or an illusion.
The sand is hot beneath your feet, and you quickly step back inside. Perhaps you should get dressed first?
> You get Dressed
Your clothing lies scattered across the floor around your bed.
(Click on objects to put them in your inventory)
| 3 |
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| 6 | false |
Childhood
A fist thuds into your face, knocking you to the ground. Gruzub stands over you, laughing.
"Mazkil! You are as weak as a Shepard!" He laughs, as you leap to you feet.
> You punch him
You swing your fist, but Gruzub quickly ducks and elbows you in the stomach, knocking the wind from your lungs. He gets two more punches in before you manage to roll away and get back into a fighting stance. As you prepare to charge him, you hear a deep voice.
"CHILDREN! Your mother struggles to soothe the little one while your brother hunts sheep. This is no time for playing. There is work to be done! Inside!" Your father bellows.
> You go inside
You quickly hurry inside, followed by your twin brother. You live in a small village of small huts. Luckily enough, you father is Chieftain Magrash, which entitles you to sleep in the Chieftain's Hut, the largest hut. As you enter, you see your father sitting in a rough woolen tunic, sharpening his greatsword. In front of him is his heavy steel plate armor, as well as several trophies from his battles.
"Mazkil, Gruzub, you fight too much. Mama is trying to put Dagden to sleep."
"Yes, papa." You both reply.
"Who won the fight?" He asks.
"I did!" You both say, before glaring at each other.
"You don't know? Perhaps you're not fighting enough. Gruzub, go down to the river and fetch water for the stew. Mazkil, sharpen my sword. I need light the hearth."
You go over to the sword, and begin to sharpen it against the whet stone, while looking over your father's trophies: An Elven Dagger, a Shrunken head, a battered golden shield, a shattered battleaxe, a studded mace, a series of Tribal Necklaces and a Dragon Skull.
"Papa?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me about your trophies?" You ask.
"I've told you many times about my trophies."
"Tell me again."
Papa chuckles, a harsh sound you've come to love.
"Which would you like to know about?"
> You elven Dagger (Elves)
"Ah, the dagger. One of my favorite. The Elves are a race of "beautiful" and "perfect" creatures who don't know a battleaxe from a wood-axe. Death to them all. They're stupid in things like how to start a fire and how to hunt, yet seem to love philosophy and reading. Death should take them. Still, they're fast with a blade and good with a bow, which I found out while hunting a party of them that came into my territory. That knife nearly went into my throat before I impaled the little bastard wielding it."
| 4 |
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| 4 | false |
You quickly hurry inside, followed by your twin brother. You live in a small village of small huts. Luckily enough, you father is Chieftain Magrash, which entitles you to sleep in the Chieftain's Hut, the largest hut. As you enter, you see your father sitting in a rough woolen tunic, sharpening his greatsword. In front of him is his heavy steel plate armor, as well as several trophies from his battles.
"Mazkil, Gruzub, you fight too much. Mama is trying to put Dagden to sleep."
"Yes, papa." You both reply.
"Who won the fight?" He asks.
"I did!" You both say, before glaring at each other.
"You don't know? Perhaps you're not fighting enough. Gruzub, go down to the river and fetch water for the stew. Mazkil, sharpen my sword. I need light the hearth."
You go over to the sword, and begin to sharpen it against the whet stone, while looking over your father's trophies: An Elven Dagger, a Shrunken head, a battered golden shield, a shattered battleaxe, a studded mace, a series of Tribal Necklaces and a Dragon Skull.
"Papa?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me about your trophies?" You ask.
"I've told you many times about my trophies."
"Tell me again."
Papa chuckles, a harsh sound you've come to love.
"Which would you like to know about?"
> You shrunken Head (Necromancer's Army)
"Ah, that! I took that off a large bastard with a sword twice as large as you.That damn Necromancer, I can't remember his name, rose Zombies Ghouls, Skeletons, Wights, Death Knights, Specters, Ghosts and who knows what else in his quest for power. He led a small group of Death Knights up here to add some Ork Zombies to his collection. He ran faster than a deer when he saw what a true Orc can do! Ha!"
| 3 |
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| 2 | false |
You quickly hurry inside, followed by your twin brother. You live in a small village of small huts. Luckily enough, you father is Chieftain Magrash, which entitles you to sleep in the Chieftain's Hut, the largest hut. As you enter, you see your father sitting in a rough woolen tunic, sharpening his greatsword. In front of him is his heavy steel plate armor, as well as several trophies from his battles.
"Mazkil, Gruzub, you fight too much. Mama is trying to put Dagden to sleep."
"Yes, papa." You both reply.
"Who won the fight?" He asks.
"I did!" You both say, before glaring at each other.
"You don't know? Perhaps you're not fighting enough. Gruzub, go down to the river and fetch water for the stew. Mazkil, sharpen my sword. I need light the hearth."
You go over to the sword, and begin to sharpen it against the whet stone, while looking over your father's trophies: An Elven Dagger, a Shrunken head, a battered golden shield, a shattered battleaxe, a studded mace, a series of Tribal Necklaces and a Dragon Skull.
"Papa?"
"Yes?"
"Can you tell me about your trophies?" You ask.
"I've told you many times about my trophies."
"Tell me again."
Papa chuckles, a harsh sound you've come to love.
"Which would you like to know about?"
> You ask about the Dragon Skull (Dragons)
"Ah, the skull. Dragons are fearsome creatures. They come in many colors, all with powerful skills. They speak Dragontongue, and many speak our language. Some are intelligent, while some are incredibly feral and wild from years of isolation. Their flames tend to be tinted the same color as their scales, with an afinity for hoarding treasure and waging war and destruction. They're solitary creatures, Dragons. If you ever slay one, Gorgok will look upon you with joy."
| 4 |
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| 3 | false |
"Assemble the warriors." You say. "Get me a group of sixty warriors who are hungry for blood."
You have the group assembled, and quickly begin making your way up the mountain. About halfway up, you begin to regret it.
"It's cold, my feet hurt and I'm fucking tired." You grunt as you trudge up the mountain.
"Damn right, Mazkil." Urug Eaglebow says.
You look further up the mountain, and hear the howls and rasps of the dead as well as the roars and screeches of the dragon. There's few dragons up here, so you presume this Red Dragon fighting is Mont Pre'Igni Rubrum, a near unpronounceable name, or the Volcano of Gargarum. The Undead are no doubt deserters from the Necromancer's Army. You reach the top of mountain, at the edge of a crater. At the center, a large group of two dozen undead soldiers armed with spears and swords are attempting to kill the dragon. It seems the undead are very unmatched.
> You attack the Undead
"Send the dead back to their graves!" You roar, charging into battle.
You swing your blade, beheading a rotting head and sending it through the air. You stab another through the heart, killing him instantly. You headbutt another, with such strength that the spine breaks and the zombie collapses on the ground. The undead are so unmatched that they're wiped out within seconds. You turn, to the snarling face of a dragon. It's voice, a low growl, shakes your very core.
"Orcs... Why have you come to my home?"
"I... I came to help." You say nervously. "I wanted to make sure this fight doesn't move into my territory."
"A wise move, mortal. Your assistance was unnecessary, but polite. Please, let me give you a gift."
The Dragon turns and stomps away into a cave. A few minutes later, it comes back. It opens its mouth, letting golden coins and gems fall out. Not a massive amount, but enough to fund the building of a new well and to get new bows for the hunters.
"Thank you, mighty dragon." You say.
"Of course."
You bow, and begin trudging down the mountain.
> One Month Later...
You walk up a mountain, trudging through the harsh snow. You're cold despite being wrapped in furs and leathers, and you really need to piss, but you know that if you tried, your dick would freeze off. You lost three farmers and a dozen goats to a Frost Troll wandering down from the mountain in the cold, icy winter that's just started. You're taking a five war parties of twenty warriors each to wipe out any trolls up in the mountains. You lead the main war party of the best warriors who wish to target the cave system most likely to hold sheltering trolls. Wind and snow begins to block your view. You know you need to find shelter soon.
> You hunker down in the cold
You drop down, putting up whatever tents you have. You crawl inside, wrapping furs and leathers around you. You hope the storm clears up soon. Within an hour and a half, the cold is so brutal that you lose all feeling. The snow's bad you have no idea where you're going. After four hours of waiting, you feel a sudden sensation of warmth. You begin unstrapping your armor to cool down. You're hot and tired. A quick nap in the snow would be nice...
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
You march forward accompanied by a massive force of Men and Orcs. The Royal Army, Red Blades Tribe, River-born Tribe, Dusk Hunters Tribe and various Orc, Human, Dark Elf and Dwarven Mercenaries heading forward to wage war. You have the main force of footmen accompanied by your best warriors and the Knights from the Kingdom of Mankind. There are also large groups of archers and a calvary of horse units, moving forward towards the enemy. After a few hours of marching, you see them. Hundreds of massive tents dot the field. You hear their lookouts blow their horns, waking the Orcs in time to prepare for the upcoming assault. Their will be no surprise assault today, you know. You raise your longsword. The blade is freshly sharpened.
"Charge!" You roar, in unison with Sir Ignate and several other leaders of the army.
You rush forward, moving forward with immense speed. The force of military wrath that you and leading storms forward as the Orcs appear, weapons drawn and enshrined in their armor. You charge into them, an unstoppable force smashing into an unmovable object.
"DIE!" You roar, swinging your blade.
You swing your sword, hacking off a limb that goes flying. You knee another figure and smash your hilt repeatedly into his face until it's nothing but pulp. You swing again, cutting open an Orc's stomach after it breaks through the chain mail armor. You swing again, opening a massive gash in the side of an Orc's face. You parry a strike and block another, before charging into battle with ferocity. You elbow an Orc in the face, smashing open bone and gristle with the force of your strike. You block an axe swing and remove the arm of the Orc holding the axe. You swing again, hacking off a leg and dropping an orc to one knee, allowing you to behead the Orc. You hack and swing, roaring with anger.
"Chieftain! Orders?" One of your Orcs screams.
Time to take command.
> You regroup and charge the enemy
You quickly regroup, blowing a bone horn to bring the Red Blades together.
"Come on! There is blood to be spilt! Ha!"
You break into a charge, moving quickly forward. You swing your sword, sending a head through the air. After about a minute, you've pushed your way past the Orc lines and got yourself surrounded. You take an arrow to the shoulder and fall backwards, before you take a spear through the throat.
| 5 |
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| 5 | false |
You march forward accompanied by a massive force of Men and Orcs. The Royal Army, Red Blades Tribe, River-born Tribe, Dusk Hunters Tribe and various Orc, Human, Dark Elf and Dwarven Mercenaries heading forward to wage war. You have the main force of footmen accompanied by your best warriors and the Knights from the Kingdom of Mankind. There are also large groups of archers and a calvary of horse units, moving forward towards the enemy. After a few hours of marching, you see them. Hundreds of massive tents dot the field. You hear their lookouts blow their horns, waking the Orcs in time to prepare for the upcoming assault. Their will be no surprise assault today, you know. You raise your longsword. The blade is freshly sharpened.
"Charge!" You roar, in unison with Sir Ignate and several other leaders of the army.
You rush forward, moving forward with immense speed. The force of military wrath that you and leading storms forward as the Orcs appear, weapons drawn and enshrined in their armor. You charge into them, an unstoppable force smashing into an unmovable object.
"DIE!" You roar, swinging your blade.
You swing your sword, hacking off a limb that goes flying. You knee another figure and smash your hilt repeatedly into his face until it's nothing but pulp. You swing again, cutting open an Orc's stomach after it breaks through the chain mail armor. You swing again, opening a massive gash in the side of an Orc's face. You parry a strike and block another, before charging into battle with ferocity. You elbow an Orc in the face, smashing open bone and gristle with the force of your strike. You block an axe swing and remove the arm of the Orc holding the axe. You swing again, hacking off a leg and dropping an orc to one knee, allowing you to behead the Orc. You hack and swing, roaring with anger.
"Chieftain! Orders?" One of your Orcs screams.
Time to take command.
> You pull back and allow the Kingdom of Man to do the brunt of the fighting
You blow a bone horn, and the Red Blades retreat. You pull back from the fighting, allowing the soldiers to move forward. You do some light support work, defending flanks and archers, which allows your forces to conquer over the Orcs. The Orc Tribes are slowly beaten back through a battle of attrition. Eventually, the Soldiers of the Kingdom of Man have begun to cease their aggression in their attacking. The Orcs are clearly beaten and bruised, unable to fight on for much longer.
> You charge!
"Charge! Strike them down!" You scream, charging forward.
You rush forward. You swing your blade, and your forces crash into the Orcs. The Orcs begin to break away, dropping weapons and swords to retreat from the battle. Some stay behind, but you make very short work of them. You roar as you swing your blade, slicing through flesh and shattering armor to wipe out all those who are left.
"Victory!" You roar.
| 3 |
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| 8 | false |
Lifting your knee, you hop forward and act as though you are about to kick Gro'tesk's shin. He brings one hand down to push your leg away, and in this moment you slam your foot into the ground, lurching forward.
In the same movement, you reel your fist back and then bolt forward. Your knuckles hit him straight in the forehead, this is followed by another swift hit right under his eye.
Gro'tesk grunts and staggers back. With a mighty roar he charges you, slamming one punch into your chest.
"Oof!"
The blow knocks the wind out of you, throwing you to the ground. Chief Gro'tesk savagely lands a quick kick to your face. Reeling to the side you land face first in the dirt, the heavy pounding of his feet stopping as he lifts his foot again.
> You knock Out
Rolling to the side, his foot smashes into the ground inches away from your head. Pulling your foot back, you shout as you slam it into Gro'tesk's knee. As his knee pushes in, he cries out and falls forward, catching himself with his hands.
You push yourself up into a crouch as you run forward, reeling your fist back. But you lose your balance and skid forward. Fortunately, you use the momentum to plant your fist into the side of his head. He grunts as the full force of your attack hits him, his head snapping to the side and his body twisting.
He lays still, and you crawl backward, just in case….
But he just lays on the ground. All of the onlookers gasp, never having seen their mighty chief get knocked out cold. You stand up and dust yourself off, and just right after the chief rolls over onto his back.
Rubbing his face and sitting up he looks at you, still dazed.
"I win.",
He stares at you blankly for a moment.
"Fine!"
With the help of a couple of onlookers, he stands up and stumbles his way over to his hut, rubbing his head as he tries to figure out how he could have lost.
You smirk and follow him in to give him your terms.
| 3 |
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| 6 | false |
Fists raised, you step to the side, constantly circling your foe. Gro'tesk does likewise, a sadistic grin spread across his face.
With a huff you step forward, your fist twisting as the arm propels it forward. Gro'tesk's cheek ripples and his head turns as he moves with the punch. At the same time his fist flies, you manage to knock it away.
Ducking under, you slam your left fist into his ribs and come back up slamming into his jaw.
Gro'tesk staggers back, bewildered at your speed. Although you are quite a large orc, he is bigger than you.
He throws a backhand, which hits your defending arm. As he brings it back, he sends his other fist forward, which you manage to parry. But, in your rush, you accidentally lower your right arm a bit too far…
As it connects a quick flash of dark splits through your vision, but only for a brief moment. As you stagger back, a pain shoots through your jaw. Managing to duck another blow, you push your opponent back, a move he was not expecting.
As you try to regain your ground, you feel a fuzziness spreading throughout your head. Getting punched sucks.
As you step forward, you consider your next move…
> You swift Punch
Keeping your elbows tucked in, you send out several punches. The first three land well, hitting Gro'tesk's face. The next two don’t go so well. As your foe dodges the next, you lose form and go wide with your fifth punch, and he easily sees it coming.
He actually manages to catch your fist, twisting your arm to the side with one hand. As you bring your left arm up to defend your face, his large fist slips in under it. Your head kicks back as you feel the pain ripple through your mouth, the lip busting open.
Gro'tesk lets go of your arm as you stumble back, and he lands another fist into the side of your head. A throbbing pain emanates from the side of your head.
Your opponent grins as you stagger in a daze, he prepares the finishing blow…
> You catch his Wrist
Shuffling to the side a bit, you stare at your foe, your hands at your side. He snarls and lunges forward for the last strike. You lean back, then step to the side as you grab his wrist with your outermost hand. You pull it down with as much force as you can, and with your arm closest to him you run your elbow along his straightened arm for a moment.
Your elbow collides, hitting him right between the eyes. His face scrunches up, and, as you let go, you step right in front of him; reeling your fist back you snarl as you ram it into his nose. His head jerks back and his feet slip out from under him, landing with a heavy thud.
Panting, you step back and watch him as he lays still.
With a groan he shuffles, rubbing his face with his hands.
"What happened?" he asks.
"I won the fight."
"Aww, come on!" he complains. "I wanted to win!"
"No, I won fair and square."
"Fine!" Gro'tesk groans.
As he pulls himself up, he mumbles under his breath. He signals to you to follow him into his hut. The crowd stares in awe, as they have never seen anyone beat their leader down before.
| 4 |
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| 6 | false |
Fists raised, you step to the side, constantly circling your foe. Gro'tesk does likewise, a sadistic grin spread across his face.
With a huff you step forward, your fist twisting as the arm propels it forward. Gro'tesk's cheek ripples and his head turns as he moves with the punch. At the same time his fist flies, you manage to knock it away.
Ducking under, you slam your left fist into his ribs and come back up slamming into his jaw.
Gro'tesk staggers back, bewildered at your speed. Although you are quite a large orc, he is bigger than you.
He throws a backhand, which hits your defending arm. As he brings it back, he sends his other fist forward, which you manage to parry. But, in your rush, you accidentally lower your right arm a bit too far…
As it connects a quick flash of dark splits through your vision, but only for a brief moment. As you stagger back, a pain shoots through your jaw. Managing to duck another blow, you push your opponent back, a move he was not expecting.
As you try to regain your ground, you feel a fuzziness spreading throughout your head. Getting punched sucks.
As you step forward, you consider your next move…
> You grapple
You shuffle forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. He grunts in surprise as you pull, while simultaneously planting a fist or two into his ribs.
Ducking under a swing, you grab his wrist with your other hand and slide the first up his arm and lock it around his elbow. With all your might, you yank is arm forward and pull down. Gro'tesk stumbles and falls, and, as you are about to twist his arm, you feel a savage kick land on the back of your knee.
Buckling and letting go of his arm, the foe pushes himself up. Hearing him coming up right behind, you throw an elbow back with a savage snarl. He catches it and wraps his hand around the back of your neck.
With a heavy grunt, he pushes you forward, using his control and momentum to keep you moving. You cry out as he tosses you over a water trough and into a wooden rack with animal skins hanging from it.
You only half-catch yourself, and, before you can fully turn, Gro'tesk is right there. With a sick grin, his boot flies into the water trough which slams into your stomach. The wind is taken out of you, and you even manage to get a grip on it. You cannot stop the force of the kick and the trough still goes down, pinning you to the ground from your waist.
The cold water spills out, pouring up over your belly and chest. You feel like something sucks up into your chest as the cold makes you gasp.
With an unnatural nimbleness, Gro'tesk hops over the fallen trough. He lifts his foot and brings it down. Luckily you manage to catch his foot in time. With both hands, you push as he does; both of your faces twisting with effort.
> You twist his leg
Crying out, you twist his ankle; Gro'tesk almost falls but catches himself on the skin rack. With one hand you pull his ankle forward. Your goes tries to stop himself from falling forward, his other leg straightening up. You shout out, sending your other fist into his straightened knee.
A sickening crack resounds as your opponent's face twists up in pain. He falls as he cries out, rolling into the skin rack as he nurses his injured knee.
Pushing the water trough off of you, now easier as it's empty, you hobble over to Gro'tesk. He looks at you, a fiery rage in his eyes.
"You ruined my leg!" he screams.
"That was called winning."
He roars, almost springing up and grabbing you, but his leg buckles and he falls.
"Hey, it was your knee of my skull."
"Fine! You win fair and square!"
You stand to the side as several orcs help him limp into his hut. The rest of the orcs from the village just stare at you in awe.
| 4 |
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| 7 | false |
You shuffle forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm. He grunts in surprise as you pull, while simultaneously planting a fist or two into his ribs.
Ducking under a swing, you grab his wrist with your other hand and slide the first up his arm and lock it around his elbow. With all your might, you yank is arm forward and pull down. Gro'tesk stumbles and falls, and, as you are about to twist his arm, you feel a savage kick land on the back of your knee.
Buckling and letting go of his arm, the foe pushes himself up. Hearing him coming up right behind, you throw an elbow back with a savage snarl. He catches it and wraps his hand around the back of your neck.
With a heavy grunt, he pushes you forward, using his control and momentum to keep you moving. You cry out as he tosses you over a water trough and into a wooden rack with animal skins hanging from it.
You only half-catch yourself, and, before you can fully turn, Gro'tesk is right there. With a sick grin, his boot flies into the water trough which slams into your stomach. The wind is taken out of you, and you even manage to get a grip on it. You cannot stop the force of the kick and the trough still goes down, pinning you to the ground from your waist.
The cold water spills out, pouring up over your belly and chest. You feel like something sucks up into your chest as the cold makes you gasp.
With an unnatural nimbleness, Gro'tesk hops over the fallen trough. He lifts his foot and brings it down. Luckily you manage to catch his foot in time. With both hands, you push as he does; both of your faces twisting with effort.
> You go for a cheap shot
Gritting your teeth as his foot gets closer and closer to your face, you're only left with one option. He tries to pull his leg away, but you hold on tight. Your wrap your hand over the top of his foot, pulling it so his heel skids across your chest. Your other hand shoots upward, Gro'tesk's face twists in pain as he stumbles back and falls. He rolls howling in pain, nursing his injured genitals.
With the water trough empty and no one trying to crush your skull, you have a much easier time pushing it off of you.
"No fair!" Gro'tesk cries, "that's cheating!"
"So is trying to stomp in my skull," you say, "but I did win."
"Fair is fair…and unfair is unfair!" Gro'tesk screams.
"Well, now you've learned that there are consequences to trying to stomp heads in."
Gro'tesk rolls to the side and pouts.
"Fine, you win," he says, "but I owe you a punch!"
Gro'tesk pulls himself up in a huff, and hobbles over to his hut. Most of the orcs stare at you in awe as you follow, others give you disapproving looks for your chosen victory route.
Although you don't really care either way, you've won.
| 4 |
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| 3 | false |
One Month Later…
The large wooden gates of the village creak open, the surrounding orcs casting suspicious glances your way. A few even have their hands on some weapons nearby, and you do not blame them.
Riding in through the mist which veils dawn's light, you appear almost as a specter of death. Lifting the hood, you give your brethren a weary nod.
A few of their eyes widen as they recognize you, some stand unsure of who you are, and some just shrug and go back to their business.
One orc approaches you.
"Who are you?"
"I am Nolazir, surrogate chief of the River Tribe in place of Chief Greusim."
The orc's eyes widen.
"It's been four years, and you have not found a replacement? Does he have any sons?"
You nod.
"One, but he is young and impatient. I will stand in until he has learned how to do his duty with patience and wisdom."
The orc scoffs at the unthinkable act of leaving a tribe largely chief less.
"What is it that you seek?"
"I want to speak with your chief," you say.
The orc shrugs and gives you directions to the chief's hut. That was a bit easier than you thought.
As you ride forward, the large hut comes into view. You are impressed to see that it actually has two stories to it. Most orcs chose to build one floor but with a wider house, although you are aware the council has at least three floors.
Pushing this useless information out of your mind, you hop off your horse. Your legs are stiff from the long ride, and you take a moment to stretch them.
Muffled yelling comes out from within the doors of the chief's hut. Splinters of wood fly as the door bursts open. A hapless orc youth falls out and tumbles down the stairs.
A large, broad orc steps out. His dark mane falling past his shoulders, two sharp teeth protrude from his bottom lip. His right eye looks like it is perpetually swollen halfway shut, a series of scars emanating from the side of his eye and going all the way to his ear. On his head rests a helmet with two bullhorns attached to it.
His tribal necklaces jingle as he bounds down the steps, his boot landing in the young orc's face.
"Fool, how could you be so incomprenent?" he says, not realizing he butchered the word.
The youth prepares to defend himself, but the chief is too fast. He twists the orcs arm and lands several fists into his ribs. As he continues to beat the orc, you wonder if he will kill him.
While you have the strong urge to step in, you also don't want to get into another tribe's affairs. They could easily kill you for interfering, although it wouldn't be the first time you have pissed off an orc chief.
> You stay out of it
The chief just continues to wail on the youngster, his nose battered and turned wrong. Blood oozes out of his nostrils and his left eye seems to be swollen shut. He tries to talk but it just comes out as garble.
"What!? I can't hear you," the chief screams, "you'll have to speak louder than that!"
The youth's mouth begins to move, and as he does so, the chief's hand lifts and curls into a fist. The larger orc raises an eyebrow, daring the smaller to try to speak again. Realizing he is being given a chance, the younger sighs and remains quiet.
"Coward!" the chief yells and drops the other orc onto the ground.
He just lays there, silently soaking in the pain inflicted upon him. The chief turns to you, satisfaction in his eyes.
"Who the hell are you?" he asks.
"My name is Nolazir, of the River Tribe…as some call it."
"Hah! Foolish name!" he says, "I am Chief Gro'tesk, and you are…..ah, Nolazir."
He grins.
"I've heard of you, fighting the humans….but you let your warriors argue with you," he says, "you have gone soft! You should pummel them into the ground whenever they so much as look at you the wrong way."
"Maybe I'm not so harsh to my own," you say, "but I don't give that same kindness to strangers."
Gro'tesk's eyes narrow, and he snarls.
"Are you threatening me?" he asks.
"No, I'm challenging you," you say, "if I win, you and your allies join me."
"If I win….you screw off!" Gro'tesk growls.
By now, a large group of orcs has gathered around. All of them cheering on Gro'tesk as he removes his tribal necklaces. They make a circle around you as you prepare to fight…
| 4 |
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| 6 | false |
The Imperials try to hold out, managing to down a few orcs, but, in the end, they are overwhelmed. You stand, stabbing an Imperial with one of their own spears repeatedly. His friend, clutching an injury, swipes his blade at you. You step back to dodge and ram the spear into his throat. Gurgling as he goes down he swings once more; his blade scratches your hand but not too deep.
Twisting and pulling the spear, you yank it from his corpse. You run forward, seeing the orcs beating down a group of Imperials. The last few men seem terrified, and one not older than seventeen trembles. If you could hear over the sound of the fighting, you would be able to hear his knees causing his hauberk to clink together.
Before you can reach them, the rest of the orcs have stabbed and battered them into oblivion. Some orcs ride into the forest to find the fleeing soldiers.
You pant, watching the massacre taking place all around. Wounded men cry out, and some lay there dying quietly.
An orc approaches you, the frenzy of blood-shed just starting to wear off.
"What shall we do with the wounded?" he asks.
You sit there and think for a moment. Orcs have never really taken prisoners, and you don't have the supplies to care for their wounded. You are worried about having enough medical supplies for your own as it is.
Although it might help to take some of them ransom, there is not too much that you would need, so maybe just leaving them to die would be better.
> You leave them
"Leave the wounded," you say. "Gigalak will decide their fate!"
Most of the orcs obey, although many still loot the corpses. Some of the more savage orcs cut the scalps from the still living and squirming men despite your order.
You walk through the dead and wounded, picking out the orcs who plead for your help. Some you know cannot be saved, and others can while being grievously wounded. With all the orcs gathered, you and many of the other orcs set to work helping them.
You have saved many lives this day, working over the sound of groaning Imperials dying in the mud just outside.
You see Grolik looking around, putting a spear tip to a wounded human. With a grunt he pushes, sending the dying man to his fate. It would seem as though that is not the first or the last he has killed in this manner. You catch his glimpse for a second, shame written across his face.
While he does not seem the type for emotions like that, putting helpless people out of their misery must take a certain toll on one.
On a rock sits Rolomag, nursing a gash on his face using a rag. He just watches some of the orcs finishing off the dying Imperials. Most of them do not seem happy about it, but maybe they believe it right not to prolong their suffering.
You turn your attention back to your work, ending the suffering of friends in a much different manner. The orc whose deadly injury you have just cleaned and sewn up thanks you as he hobbles away.
| 4 |
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| 9 | false |
The Imperials try to hold out, managing to down a few orcs, but, in the end, they are overwhelmed. You stand, stabbing an Imperial with one of their own spears repeatedly. His friend, clutching an injury, swipes his blade at you. You step back to dodge and ram the spear into his throat. Gurgling as he goes down he swings once more; his blade scratches your hand but not too deep.
Twisting and pulling the spear, you yank it from his corpse. You run forward, seeing the orcs beating down a group of Imperials. The last few men seem terrified, and one not older than seventeen trembles. If you could hear over the sound of the fighting, you would be able to hear his knees causing his hauberk to clink together.
Before you can reach them, the rest of the orcs have stabbed and battered them into oblivion. Some orcs ride into the forest to find the fleeing soldiers.
You pant, watching the massacre taking place all around. Wounded men cry out, and some lay there dying quietly.
An orc approaches you, the frenzy of blood-shed just starting to wear off.
"What shall we do with the wounded?" he asks.
You sit there and think for a moment. Orcs have never really taken prisoners, and you don't have the supplies to care for their wounded. You are worried about having enough medical supplies for your own as it is.
Although it might help to take some of them ransom, there is not too much that you would need, so maybe just leaving them to die would be better.
> You take them prisoner
"Take them as prisoners," you shout. "We will take them as ransom."
You divide your orcs, some of them gathering wounded orcs to aid them with their injuries. The rest gather up the wounded Imperials worth saving. Some are too wounded, so are either put out of their misery or left to die.
You grab a dying Imperial soldier, the young human sort of whimpers. He must believe you are going to kill him, but his eyes widen in surprise as you clamp his wound. You lift him up and carry him to some of the tents erected for the wounded. There are many more orcs in here than humans, as most are focusing on the orcs, who they find more worth saving.
The soldier winces and grunts as you pour alcohol into his wound. Alcohol and blood running from the gash in his side. He groans in pain as you sew his wounds, then when it seems he is set, you tie his hands and place him under the guard of some other orcs.
You go, helping orc and human alike. In the group, you are surprised to see Grolik eagerly helping a human.
Strangely, he seems compassionate towards the wounded fellow as he wholeheartedly stitches his wounds up. You are surprised to see this trait from an orc such as Grolik. After witnessing him brutally butcher and maim countless enemies, it comes as a bit of a shock that he is not looting or scalping the helpless foes.
While aiding enemy soldiers does not come naturally to you, surely Gigalak would smile upon saving lives as opposed to wanton destruction of life, something only the grimmest of souls would take satisfaction with.
| 4 |
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| 12 | false |
The last few months find you and your army in the forests by the border. Reports had come of a legion of Imperials slowly making their way to the border. In the meantime, you have amassed assistance from a few more orc tribes. All the while, the Imperials wait, and your forces grow stronger and stronger.
You wait, while the rain pelts your face. Every orc is silent as the ground starts to become muddy at the intensity of the precipitation.
You signal the orcs to move forward, a slow trod through the mud. The Imperials are moving dozens of soldiers through, but if all goes to plan they'll never make it to the staging ground. By the time you reach them, you are hoping their supply wagons will be stuck in the mud, and their horses antsy at every trick and sound of the forests.
When the time is right, you will strike, and make them pay. If the Imperials seek to break their treaty, you will show them the consequences. You all have your padded leather gambesons over your chainmail, extra leather straps tied around to reduce some of the clinking the chain tends to make.
Riding forward, you catch Grolik's eye, who nods at you. Rolomag as well, who winks and pats his heart with his palm in a sign of respect.
Coming up to a ridge, you signal your forces to stop. Creeping low through the foliage, you see the Imperial columns. As suspected, their wagons seem to mostly be stuck in the mud. At your signal, your archers start their painstaking crawl over to the ridgeline.
The other third, slowly bring their horses onto both sides of the columns, preparing their charge. On the other side across from you, some of the lawless orcs should be preparing their attack on the Mannate soldiers. The cavalry orcs should still be fighting their way through by the time the archers are done, and when that happens they will slide down the slope. You don't want to run the risk of accidentally shooting your cavalry, so the archers will have to work fast, but by then the Imperials will be surrounded, and you should be able to crush them.
As the rain intensifies a bit, their horses get even antsier. As the lightning strikes, the soldiers look into the dark forests, fear apparent. When the thunder claps, their officers bark orders to hurry and move the wagons from the mud.
> You join the Cavalry
On your horse, you go around to join the cavalry. As you do so, you signal the archers, the lightning briefly illuminating your warriors. For a moment, the heavens are silent, the wind stops causing the trees to sway, and a single arrow soars through the air.
The Imperial officer lurches back, the arrow slicing through his shoulder. He falls off his horse with a thud, and the rest of the soldiers try to escape, but it is already too late.
You and your cavalry have them caught in a pincer movement. As you ride by, you lop an Imperial's head clean off his shoulders. Before long, some of the humans have mounted horses in a vain attempt to buy their fellows time to escape.
Galloping through the mud, you rush to meet one of these foes. Before you is a tired looking man, a wild look in his eyes as he gives a mighty battle cry. His sword clashes against yours, the rain splattering off the twin blades. You circle back to face him again, a slight burning sensation on your neck. To your left an Imperial soldier stands, fixing another arrow, the first arrow's head had just lightly grazed your neck.
Ducking, you spur your horse forward, turning back around to face the man who you had clashed with before. Three orcs are upon him, as one sends his club into the man's gut, the other two hack and slash him with swords. It takes some time before they pierce the mail he wears, but they are effective.
Charging towards the small group of archers, you throw your axe. The blade misses, instead the blunt side slamming into the man. He holds his face, blood dripping from his nose. A few arrows almost slam into you, but by the hand of Gigalak they are swept aside. You ram your horse through, trampling two men and cutting another's chest open.
As you circle back around, you grab a spear from a leather pouch at the side of your horse. Chucking it, the spear impales an Imperial.
By now your archers have joined the battle, and the Imperials are all but surrounded. As they group up, they seem to realize the futility of their fight, and some even manage to run into the forest to escape.
| 5 |
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| 9 | false |
While some Imperials have been killed, they are quickly whittling down your numbers. To your left, you see the knight caught out of the line, trying to rally his soldiers. You watch as an orc chops at his head with an axe, but it bounces off his helmet. The knight rams his sword blade through the orc's armpit, pushing the dying orc off.
Another orc slashes, the blade harmlessly skidding across the helmet. Before the orc is cut down, he slams the flat of the axe on the soldier's helm, slightly denting it.
You look to the Imperial with the protruding spear from his silver coat, and the knights dented helmet. You get an idea…
> You impale the Knight
You pull one of your spears slung onto your back. With a roar, you charge the knight, he looks in surprise, taking a swing at you. You knock the sword to the side and ram the spear into his stomach. The silver coat snaps and crunches, and, as the knight falls, you push the spear further into him. You watch as crimson red oozes out from inside the coat as you twist and push the spear. The imperial sputters and coughs from under his helm as he feebly reaches for his sword before going limp. Ripping the spear out, you see the tip is mostly ruined. If you hadn't kept pushing the dead man before, you would only have had a minor flesh wound.
| 4 |
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| 2 | false |
As you get closer to him, you arc your sword over your head, aiming for his neck. The Imperial soldier slams it away with the flat of his blade and, mid-push, brings his blade back down. The sword cuts through your thick leather armor, biting into your shoulder.
You wince and grunt as he pulls his sword, the both of you passing each other and turning in preparation to charge again. Behind him, you see that the orcs seem to have pushed the Imperial horsemen back a bit, and the orcs on the hill have wounded several archers in each column.
The battle is going well enough for the orcs.
As you charge the Imperial knight again, you consider your next move.
> You throw your axe at the horse
The horses gallop forward, the knight's elbow tenses and he leans forward on the horse. He seems intent on running your through. As you ride forward you let him think this will be a jousting match….
Like a bolt of lightning, you draw the axe at your side, throwing it at the Imperials horse. The axe embeds itself in its forehead, and it lets out a pained neigh. You dip to the side as it lurches forward, the knight being launched off with a cry of dismay.
As he lands a sickening crunch sounds out. The knight groans and tries to pull himself up, but his arm is twisted and bent horribly. He buckles and falls onto the ground, a defeated sigh escaping his lips.
"Come on, knave," the knight says, not moving, "what are you waiting for you brute?"
Before you can ride forth to finish him, a loud cry emanates from the forest behind you.
> You for the Emperor!
You turn your horse. From out of the trees, an enormous group of humans comes rushing out, screaming and yelling. You notice they are quite different from the knights. While some of them have the silver coats, most of them just have some kind of padding and the Imperial soldier robes. Their boots, gloves, and helmets don’t look anywhere near as nice as the knights'.
These must be the lowly soldiers of the Empire, but there sure are a lot of them. You turn again as you see the lawless orcs bring up a cry, charging towards the humans. You watch as your comrades also charge the humans, so you decide you should as well.
Galloping forward, you prepare your axe. A battle of strength versus numbers, you decide that Gigalak will decide the winner today.
You trample a couple of humans, their cries ringing out. The axe bites into another, and as he dies his sword nicks your arm. You slash, hack, batter, and even punch one. A dying soldier cries out, digging his dagger into your side. You gasp and slam your axe handle into his eye, a squishing sound resounds as blood squirts out and onto your leg. He lets out a blood curdling scream as he flails, soon going limp and falling to the ground.
With the dagger still in your side, you circle back, needing to fight through a few more soldiers to do so. Panting, you see that the battle is being lost for the orcs. But some still fight on, despite their injuries and overwhelming odds.
Chief Greusim charges into the middle of it, laying waste to soldier after soldier. His mighty club denting helmets and cracking skulls, breaking arms and busting jaws.
You watch as he cries out, someone plunging their sword into his side. Gasping, you ride forward to save him. But there are too many soldiers to fight through, and before you can reach him the grunts pull Greusim from his horse, stabbing, slashing, punching, and beating. You see his own club being raised to be used against him.
All the other orcs in your tribe watch as the chief goes down, along with the other orcs he had around him.
There's just too many, you'll never fight through them all.
"Fall back! Fall back!" some orc cries out.
As you all do so, the lawless orcs seem shocked as to why. Before they can get away, the Imperial troops have swept them up and begin to butcher most of them. Few escape, and you even swing one onto your horse as you ride away.
You all ride into the forest, lucky to have escaped death on this day. The same cannot be said for many others.
You exchange glances with Rolomag, who nods and pokes his chin to the valley. Although you don't like the idea, you all will have to go there to recover and make plans….
| 3 |
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| 9 | false |
Once you've spent your gold coins, you make your way back to Dendar's cart. Unfortunately, you find yourself in the poorer part of town, clearly having taken a wrong turn. As you make your way through a side street, a voice cries out.
"Hello! A little lost, are we?" A voice cries.
You turn, and are faced with a trio of men holding knives.
"Fuck off." You grunt angrily.
"'Fuck off', he says. What an angry orc."
A voice from behind you says.
You turn, to see two more men wielding knives.
"Listen, sir. Give us your coins, and we'll see you find your way to where you're going."
> You hand over your few coins
You quickly take out your remaining coins and hand them to one of the thieves. He flashes a grin, and puts his hand around your shoulder.
"Thank you, sir. Pleasure doing business."
He leads you out of the ally and points in the direction of the Dengar's cart. You walk along to it, and climb aboard the back. Dengar appears, holding a caged chicken.
"How was your time in Riverton?"
You shrug, disgusted in yourself for handing over the money. You're no true orc.
| 2 |
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| 2 | false |
After a long ride to Riverton with Dendar who mostly insults you and Gruzub, you eventually arrive at the small town. You eyes immediately find multiple ways to spend your precious coins. There's a brothel in the poorer section of town, a large shop full of delicious foods you wish to sample, a small gambling ring and a tavern.
> You visit the Brothel
You arrive at a large building and take a deep breath, breathing in perfumes of foreign fruits and sweet incense. An elderly woman walks out, and smiles at you.
"Ah, a patron. How may I help you, Sir?"
"I'd imagine it's the same reason everyone comes here." You reply snidely.
"Ah, of course. I'm sorry, you look like Gruft, the debt collector. I assumed you were a brother of his filling in."
She leads you into a back room, where you take a seat on an old dirty bed. She leaves, before arriving back with three women. One of them is a middle-aged, chubby, unattractive woman in a plain dress. She smiles at you.
"I am Helga. She says.
The second woman is a younger, plain faced woman with a nice bosom and bum, which quickly draw your attention.
"I am Liz." She says, smiling at you sweetly.
The final girl is a short, small, pale blond girl. Her features are sharp and angular, and you recognize her as an elf.
"I am Starflower." She says.
"The prices are simple." The Matron says. "Helga is five coins, Liz is ten, Starflower is fifteen."
> You pay for Helga
You pay for Helga, and all others but her leave. You quickly undress, and for the next hour, allow your animal urges to take over. You quickly fuck her, trying to focus on the feeling rather than her less than appealing appearance. Afterwards, you clean up and quickly make your way back to the street, a happier orc.
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
You arrive at a large building and take a deep breath, breathing in perfumes of foreign fruits and sweet incense. An elderly woman walks out, and smiles at you.
"Ah, a patron. How may I help you, Sir?"
"I'd imagine it's the same reason everyone comes here." You reply snidely.
"Ah, of course. I'm sorry, you look like Gruft, the debt collector. I assumed you were a brother of his filling in."
She leads you into a back room, where you take a seat on an old dirty bed. She leaves, before arriving back with three women. One of them is a middle-aged, chubby, unattractive woman in a plain dress. She smiles at you.
"I am Helga. She says.
The second woman is a younger, plain faced woman with a nice bosom and bum, which quickly draw your attention.
"I am Liz." She says, smiling at you sweetly.
The final girl is a short, small, pale blond girl. Her features are sharp and angular, and you recognize her as an elf.
"I am Starflower." She says.
"The prices are simple." The Matron says. "Helga is five coins, Liz is ten, Starflower is fifteen."
> You pay for Liz
You pay for Liz, and everyone but her leave. You quickly undress, and take advantage of the ample business advantages that the Gods have given her. Her bosom and ass provide great entertainment as your animal instincts take over. You greatly enjoy the next hour, eventually finishing, cleaning up and leaving the brothel with a smile on your face.
| 2 |
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| 1 | false |
After a long ride to Riverton with Dendar who mostly insults you and Gruzub, you eventually arrive at the small town. You eyes immediately find multiple ways to spend your precious coins. There's a brothel in the poorer section of town, a large shop full of delicious foods you wish to sample, a small gambling ring and a tavern.
> You visit the Shop
You go into the shop, and buy a lamb steak, a shiny purple fruit, boiled sheep's brain and a pouch of milk. You quickly eat these delicious fruits, particularly enjoying the sheep's brain and milk. As you finish, you smile to yourself, your stomach full.
Time to find something else to do.
| 3 |
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| 0 | false |
After a long ride to Riverton with Dendar who mostly insults you and Gruzub, you eventually arrive at the small town. You eyes immediately find multiple ways to spend your precious coins. There's a brothel in the poorer section of town, a large shop full of delicious foods you wish to sample, a small gambling ring and a tavern.
> You visit the Gambling Ring
You go inside the gambling ring, where a large half-orc stands, leaning against the doorway.
"Good evening, kind patron." He says in a dull, bored voice. "Would you care to see a fight? Five coins, make a bet."
"What's the fight?" You ask, eagerly.
"A Dragon Youngling, can barely spit fire, vs a trio of wolves we managed to catch. It's a good fight."
> You bet on the Wolves
You place a five coin bet on the wolves, and enter the gambling ring. You find a spot looking in on the ring, watching a small red dragon, snarling at the crowd. Three trapdoors open, with three wolves entering. The wolves begin howling as the dragon snarls. The Dragon lets out a short first of fire, alighting one of the wolves who begins leaping and rolling around in pain. The other two wolves jump, with the dragon lunging forward and biting into the second wolf's neck and tearing into the flesh and fur, before dropping the bleeding wolf. The third wolf lands on the dragon and begins biting and tearing at the dragon's wing. The Dragon screeches, leaping around and flinging the wolf off the ring. The dragon snarls and leaps forward, tearing the wolf's head off and flinging it out of the ring. It lands next to you, but a small child grabs it first and holds it in the air with a laugh.
You leave, five coins poorer.
| 4 |
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| 2 | false |
After a long ride to Riverton with Dendar who mostly insults you and Gruzub, you eventually arrive at the small town. You eyes immediately find multiple ways to spend your precious coins. There's a brothel in the poorer section of town, a large shop full of delicious foods you wish to sample, a small gambling ring and a tavern.
> You visit the Tavern
You walk into the Tavern, and drop five gold coins on the counter.
"Barkeep. Get me a mug of your finest ale. No, get me however many mugs of my cheapest ale this can get."
You're slid over several mugs of ale, which you begin drinking with glee. As you do, an old man sits down next to you wearing the Kingdom of Man's military uniform.
"Good day, sir. Ah, an orc. A fierce beast, at that one."
"I am not a beast. I am a warrior." You grunt, annoyed.
"Ah, of course, of course my good friend. I was just making conversation."
You look over at him, noting a black, jagged blade at his side that you recognize as Demonic Obsidian.
"That's a nice blade. Where's it from?" You ask.
"Ah, now that's a story. I'll tell it to you for a bottle of Elvish Wine, only five coins. A man needs to drink." He winks at you.
> You pay for the man's wine
You pay for the man's drink, and he gleefully accepts.
"Thank you. Hell, your kind are far better than most around here. I was a soldier in the King's Royal Army. I was sent to fight the Necromancer's Army, at only a young age. Not the current Necromancer, mind you, the boy's father, the first Necromancer. I was sent to a small graveyard, where a local friendly giant had been buried. One of the Necromancer's Disciples had taken a group of zombies and ghouls down to raise the giant as a soldier in their army, so I was sent to kill them with my regiment. The dead were everywhere, and I sunk my sword into a zombie and lost it. There I was, unarmed and surrounded by the dead, when I saw this figure in a black cloak. I tackled him, grabbed his sword, this very weapon, and stabbed him to death. With that, the zombies lost their leader and we regrouped and repelled the dead. I wielded this very sword when we stormed Reaper's Castle and killed that blasted necromancer. Anyhow, that's my story. I'm glad someone heard it, and gladder my lips aren't as parched."
You nod and quickly finish your drink.
| 4 |
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| 2 | false |
You walk into the Tavern, and drop five gold coins on the counter.
"Barkeep. Get me a mug of your finest ale. No, get me however many mugs of my cheapest ale this can get."
You're slid over several mugs of ale, which you begin drinking with glee. As you do, an old man sits down next to you wearing the Kingdom of Man's military uniform.
"Good day, sir. Ah, an orc. A fierce beast, at that one."
"I am not a beast. I am a warrior." You grunt, annoyed.
"Ah, of course, of course my good friend. I was just making conversation."
You look over at him, noting a black, jagged blade at his side that you recognize as Demonic Obsidian.
"That's a nice blade. Where's it from?" You ask.
"Ah, now that's a story. I'll tell it to you for a bottle of Elvish Wine, only five coins. A man needs to drink." He winks at you.
> You refuse
"No thanks."
The Soldier nods in understanding, and you continue drinking. After a few minutes, a man knocks into you, spilling your drink.
"Oi!" You yell, standing up and turning.
In front of you is a large man with a thick black beard, who looks at you.
"What?"
"You spilled my drink!" You roar at him.
"Ha! My little daughter could've held a drink with more grip than that! It's not my fault!"
> You punch the Man
You smash your fist into the man's head, knocking him backwards. The man stumbles backwards, and you leap in, punching him twice more.
> You continue punching
You continue punching, and although the man gets two hits in and you, smashing your nose, his body eventually goes limp as he falls to the ground.
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
You smash your fist into the man's head, knocking him backwards. The man stumbles backwards, and you leap in, punching him twice more.
> You leave the Tavern
You turn to leave as the man stands again. As you walk, the man draws a sword and yells. You turn to confront him, but he stabs you through the chest, straight through the heart.
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
You roll to the side, narrowly dodging a goring from the beast's tusks. As it runs past, you leap forward with your knife, cutting through thick fur and drawing a fair amount of blood. It squeals, before running forward and turning around once more for another charge.
> You have Gruzub distract it
"Gruzub! Distract the beast!"
"Distract it?" Gruzub asks quizically, before picking up a stone and chucking it at the boar.
The boar squeals and turns to gore Gruzub.
"I did it! Ah, I did it!" He yells, diving out of the way.
You charge forward, stabbing the boar repeatedly in the side. It's intestines begin falling out, and it collapses, dead.
| 3 |
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| 0 | false |
After a moment, you get up from your place on the floor and slowly head up the stairs. Surely you have enough time before Oscar gets back. Once you reach the top of the steps, you find there is a hallway leading to a single door. You approach the door, a sinking feeling in your gut rising all the while. Something isn't right.
You open the door and what you see almost causes you to lose the contents of your stomach.
There in the bed is the corpse of a woman. She's decomposed heavily, and it's clear she's been dead a long while, far too long. Porridge drips from her rotting mouth. It was made recently. This is... Repulsive. Horrific. Wrong.
You're not sure how long you've been standing there, staring at the woman's corpse in shock. It isn't until you hear Oscar's shouting that you realize what you've just found... And rage shakes within you.
You unsheath your sword. "W-wait! I can explain!" Oscar yells, sticking his hands up.
> You stay your hand. If he doesn't give an answer you like, you'll kill him.
It takes all your willpower to keep your blade from meeting his flesh. Still, your anger does not subside, and your voice comes out in a low growl when you speak, "What the fuck are you doing?"
It is then that Oscar breaks into tears.He falls to his knees. "I... I... I couldn't bare to lose her! I loved her so much! When she got sick, I was heartbroken... And when she died I couldn't accept it! I didn't want to lose her!" He can't find it in himself to continue, instead letting out a heart wrenching sob. "Please, sir... If you must, end my life. I wish... I wish to buried next to her."
The grip on your sword tightens. You're not sure what to do with this pitiful old man.
> You he asked you to kill him. You will, and put him and his wife to rest.
You raise your sword. As gently as you can, you stab his throat. He lets out a pained gurgle, blood filling his esophagus, before finally his lungs are filled and death takes him. You pull out your sword and find his head has nearly been lopped off. Disgusting.
You take his corpse in your hands and take him outside, where you set him down. Then, you do the same with his wife, hauling her outside. You set her down next to her husband, before heading back inside to grab a shovel.
A few hours later, the pair are buried. You head to a nearby tree and cut off a decent sized branch, which you jam into the soil of their grave. There, they shall find rest... As you stand there over their shared grave, you find yourself thinking back to Grace, the hotheaded girl who could conjure fire with but a flick of her palm. What you would give to have been buried next to her.
You set off from the grave.
THE END
| 5 |
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| 4 | false |
It takes all your willpower to keep your blade from meeting his flesh. Still, your anger does not subside, and your voice comes out in a low growl when you speak, "What the fuck are you doing?"
It is then that Oscar breaks into tears.He falls to his knees. "I... I... I couldn't bare to lose her! I loved her so much! When she got sick, I was heartbroken... And when she died I couldn't accept it! I didn't want to lose her!" He can't find it in himself to continue, instead letting out a heart wrenching sob. "Please, sir... If you must, end my life. I wish... I wish to buried next to her."
The grip on your sword tightens. You're not sure what to do with this pitiful old man.
> You won't kill him. You know the pain he is going through, has been going through.
With a sigh, you place your sword back onto your back. Then, you kneel down to be at eye level with the sobbing man. Despite the emotions you want to show, you find your voice being almost monotone as you speak. "I know the pain you're going through. I lost my love when she and I were young, far too young. You should be grateful for the time you had with her."
He wipes his eyes slowly, but he says nothing.
"It's time to let go."
With that his tears are dried. It seems as though a weight is lifted from his shoulders with your words.
"I... Thank you, for your words. I'll... I'll bury her, under her favorite tree. You can stay for breakfast, if you'd like. I won't be long." He picks himself up off the floor, and you do as well.
"I think I will." With that, you head downstairs, while Oscar begins to retrieve his wife's corpse. He leaves for the yard, while you sit and wait in his living room. He comes back an hour or so later, makes porridge, and serves it to you. The two of you eat in silence, before you stand and make your leave.
Life must go on. The pain that one endures is what makes them human. You know that all too well.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 4 | false |
In spite of the darkness, you continue on the path, keeping a hand on your sword in case you're attacked. You light your lantern so that you can see more clearly, and march onwards. Eventually, you spot an old wooden cabin near a lake, not too far off the path. It looks abandoned, but hopefully if anyone still resides within you can convince them to let you take shelter.
You make your way to the front door, where you attempt to open it, only to find that it's locked. Damn, the place isn't abandoned. Instead, you raise your fist and pound upon the door. "Hello," you call out, "I seek shelter for the night." It takes a moment, but soon you hear footsteps descending stairs within, then the sound of a lantern being lit, followed by faint light creeping through under the door. Finally, you hear the sound of a bolt being unlocked.
The door cracks open slightly, and you can see a wrinkled eye poking out. "I didn't think anyone still wandered these old roads," he says, his voice old and creaky. "What brings you 'round here, stranger?"
"I'm nothing but a simple wanderer," you reply. "I just seek shelter for the night."
He looks as though he's contemplating it. He seems wary, though that isn't unreasonable; if you were in his shoes, being woken in the dead of night by a large man with a large sword, you'd be wary as well. Finally, he opens the door wider, croaking out "Come in." You oblige.
Before you stands an older man, perhaps in his 60s, dressed in a faded blue woolen shirt and ragged breeches. "Welcome. My name is Oscar. What's yours, wanderer?"
"My name is Kit." You look around. The interior of the cabin is quaint, decorated with paintings and old wooden furniture. A hearth sits on the back wall, cooking utensils hanging above it, near stairs ascending to the second floor. "A nice home you have here."
"Thank you." Oscar gestures to the floor. "You're welcome to make yourself comfortable. Please, do not head to the second floor. My wife is attempting to sleep. She's been sick."
You nod. "I understand. Thank you, sir."
Oscar ascends the stairs, leaving you on the first floor. You lay down, and fall asleep.
In the morning, you wake to Oscar descending from the stairs. "Morning, sir. You're welcome to stay for breakfast if you want, I'm going to get wood for the hearth. And again, please do not disturb my wife. She's still dreadfully sick." With that, he heads to the door and leaves.
He's rather insistent that you not bother his wife. Is she really that sick? Maybe you can check for yourself. Or, you can wait for him to come back and then eat breakfast with him and be on your way.
> You no, you won't invade their privacy. You'll stay for breakfast then leave.
You stay put. Oscar comes back not long after with an armful of wood logs and grass, which he places into the hearth. You offer him your tinderbox, which he takes with a hum of thanks, before lighting the hearth. He begins to cook porridge, and hands you a bowl not long after. It's good.
After you finish up your breakfast, you gather your things and take your leave. He was quite a kind old man. You wonder if he and his wife will do alright all alone out here. Perhaps such a life... Would suit you. Perhaps.
A few days, maybe even weeks later, you find a worn-down cabin on the edge of a forest that is actually abandoned this time. You decide to give that life a shot, and find that it does suit you. It is there that you finally settle down, hunting and gathering for food.
Occasionally, travelers pass through on their own journeys, but they never stay long. Once or twice bandits have attempted to rob you, but once you retrieved your old sword and showed how well you can handle it, they quietly backed away... Most of them, anyhow. The fools that didn't? Well, you're lucky the stains came off easily with a bit of elbow grease.
Finally, you are at peace.
THE END
| 3 |
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| 12 | false |
You take the path through the woods, being sure to light your lantern along the way. The ambient sounds of wildlife keep you on the alert. For every wolf's howl and twig snapped in the distance, your hand draws closer to the hilt of your sword. Still, nothing comes out to attack you, and you must be grateful for that.
The road carries you onwards for hours, until finally you must stop and rest. With a grunt, you begin to climb up into a large oak tree along the path, checking every branch until, finally, you find one that can support your weight. You kill your lantern and tie it to the branch using your rope. Setting your knapsack up against the tree, you lay down, and fall asleep.
The sound of shouting and the light of torches causes your eyes to snap open. Through the canopy of leaves you can see a faint glow, as though sunlight is fighting hard to break through and onto the path. On said path you see a large group of men wearing armor comprised of animal hides and worn out leather.
Marauders. They're a wandering group of bandits and raiders, accepting any who wish to fight with them. They make their living by ransacking and pillaging towns, and never stay in one place for long. Above all, they admire a fierce warrior, and rumor has it that if one can slay the leader of a Marauder band, then one may lead them.
Instinctively you reach for your sword, but stop as you realize that they can't see you unless they look up. They must be on the way to find a village, so that they can steal their valuables, kill them all, or rape the women. Perhaps even all three, if they're a particularly ambitious bunch.
You've fought these sorts before, and most often they'll fight tooth and nail until their leader is dead. Once that happens, they'll submit themselves to you willingly... That is, if you can survive long enough to reach their leader. If you got into a fight, you can't be sure you'll walk away from it alive.
But at the same time... Could you just sit by and let these men harass, or even kill, the innocent?
> You no, you can't. You have to do something.
You sit up and kneel on the branch. From that position, you watch for a moment, counting their numbers. Altogether, they're about four dozen. You've fought those odds before... Then again, you had your companions by your side. Even then, you can fight like a cornered animal if you try hard enough. Time to see if you still have it.
You pull your sword from your back and ready it, then jump down in a swing. The momentum of your fall slices right through three different men before they could even react. Their heads split right open like overripe watermelons, and the sword carries on through their bodies, cleaving them in half messily. Blood and guts cover your blade.
The others all stop their march and back away immediately, staring in awe at the mess you just created. There's an intense stare down between you and all of their numbers. Some have fear in their eyes, others anger, an odd few even respect. Most? A mixture of the three. The seconds tick by slowly, painfully, neither you nor the bandits wanting to make the first move, then...
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" a gruff voice calls out. "ATTACK!"
Then, they're swarming you while yelling and swinging their weapons in a panic. You bring down a few with a single swing. A few cuts and stabs get through your defense. An arrow pierces your left bicep. Still, you fight madly, like an unchained beast.
Soon, you're attacking and defending on pure instinct. Adrenaline carries you as your body moves on its own. Too tired to think clearly. Can only act.
But it's in the repetition of swing, block, swing, block, that you find time to reflect.
What are you doing here?
Why are you doing this?
When did you go from being a hero to callously slaying bandits in the woods?
You're hurt. You're cold. You're hungry. You're tired. You're afraid.
But something still carries you.
That intense desire to live.
Like a flame that won't die out.
The question is...
Should the flame stay lit?
> The passion has died. You need to let go of your pitiful life.
You're past your prime. Nothing you do will make a difference in this world. It's time to let an old man die before he does something too rash.
Slowly, you stop fighting. More attacks get through your defenses. Fewer of your hits connect. Soon, it's just you standing there taking their punishment. A sword gets driven through your back. A spear impales you through the abdomen. An arrow flies into your throat.
Soon enough, you're nothing but a battered and unrecognizable corpse, lying in the road. You took 21 of their number with you. Nearly half their forces. They regard your corpse with a begrudging sense of respect. No one has given them such a fight before.
You're left slumped against a tree, sword in your lap. No one who passes through dares disturb your corpse, and soon, the earth retakes you.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 7 | false |
You sit up and kneel on the branch. From that position, you watch for a moment, counting their numbers. Altogether, they're about four dozen. You've fought those odds before... Then again, you had your companions by your side. Even then, you can fight like a cornered animal if you try hard enough. Time to see if you still have it.
You pull your sword from your back and ready it, then jump down in a swing. The momentum of your fall slices right through three different men before they could even react. Their heads split right open like overripe watermelons, and the sword carries on through their bodies, cleaving them in half messily. Blood and guts cover your blade.
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"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" a gruff voice calls out. "ATTACK!"
Then, they're swarming you while yelling and swinging their weapons in a panic. You bring down a few with a single swing. A few cuts and stabs get through your defense. An arrow pierces your left bicep. Still, you fight madly, like an unchained beast.
Soon, you're attacking and defending on pure instinct. Adrenaline carries you as your body moves on its own. Too tired to think clearly. Can only act.
But it's in the repetition of swing, block, swing, block, that you find time to reflect.
What are you doing here?
Why are you doing this?
When did you go from being a hero to callously slaying bandits in the woods?
You're hurt. You're cold. You're hungry. You're tired. You're afraid.
But something still carries you.
That intense desire to live.
Like a flame that won't die out.
The question is...
Should the flame stay lit?
> The passion still burns within you. You won't let go. You'll fight until every bone is broken and your last drop of blood has spilled.
No. You won't go quietly. That fire, deep within your soul, it still burns as bright as it ever did. And no two-bit marauders will extinguish it. You swing with more force than you ever have before, take more punishment than you ever have before. Throwing caution to the wind as you try to take down as many of these bastards as you can.
After a while, you think you finally land a hit on their leader, and one hit is all you need. You can tell it's him by the glint of silver decorating his armor. When you land that blow, the others lose their fighting spirit. You plant your sword into the ground, panting as you catch your breath. Then, you turn to them with a sudden jerk of your head, a twisted grin on your face.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
They stare at you with shock and awe written on their faces. There's only about 16 left. One steps forward. "You... Killed our leader! And most of our band!"
"And I'll kill you too!" You bare your teeth at them for full effect.
Then, they fall to their knees and lay their faces on the ground. You stare at them, still thirsting for blood on your blade. One of them begins to yell, "Lead us into battle, worthy warrior! You've proven that you can kill dozens of men and carry on!"
They're offering you the now vacant spot as their leader.
> You you've nothing better to do. You'll take it.
You stare at them. Then, you grin. "Get your faces out of the mud. We've got a job to do." They all rise up from their bowing position, staring at you uncertainly. Your unsettling grin puts them even more on edge. "One of you! Patch up my wounds. We'll make camp for the night, then set out at dawn. We need to recruit more soldiers, then we'll see about raiding a town."
They all nod. Most of them begin to set up their tents, while others loot the bodies for any valuables. One of them comes over to you and sets to work on your wounds, he tells you he was a healer once upon a time, but grew bored of his life. He desired excitement, so he joined up with a band of raiders.
Perhaps this is what you needed. Excitement. And leading a band of raiders? Just your style.
Sunrise comes, and you set off into the world with your newfound band.
THE END
| 6 |
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No. You won't go quietly. That fire, deep within your soul, it still burns as bright as it ever did. And no two-bit marauders will extinguish it. You swing with more force than you ever have before, take more punishment than you ever have before. Throwing caution to the wind as you try to take down as many of these bastards as you can.
After a while, you think you finally land a hit on their leader, and one hit is all you need. You can tell it's him by the glint of silver decorating his armor. When you land that blow, the others lose their fighting spirit. You plant your sword into the ground, panting as you catch your breath. Then, you turn to them with a sudden jerk of your head, a twisted grin on your face.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
They stare at you with shock and awe written on their faces. There's only about 16 left. One steps forward. "You... Killed our leader! And most of our band!"
"And I'll kill you too!" You bare your teeth at them for full effect.
Then, they fall to their knees and lay their faces on the ground. You stare at them, still thirsting for blood on your blade. One of them begins to yell, "Lead us into battle, worthy warrior! You've proven that you can kill dozens of men and carry on!"
They're offering you the now vacant spot as their leader.
> You won't stoop so low. They're pathetic bandits.
Rage bubbles within you. They think that you want that position? That you'll forgive them of their crimes? You're not going to give them that satisfaction. Instead, you raise your sword, and with a sweeping blow, take out four of them with one swing. The others realize what you're doing and try to run. They don't make it very far.
Soon, you're cleaning your blade in a stream outside of the forest, while binding your wounds. They did a number on you, but you suppose it's just more scars for the collection. It's almost comforting, in a way. Almost.
There's more injustice out there. If anything, now is the time to act.
You set out into the horizon, never once looking back.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 1 | false |
Over the next week, the two of you make small talk. Gi'anti is an interesting fellow, with a lot to say on various herbs and plants you come across in the forest. One particular time, he points out a faintly red leaf, and says, "That there is what they call sorem incenti, it's a medical leaf used for treating wounds caused by magic."
"Hm. So if, say, you threw a fireball at me, we'd just plant some sorem incenti on me and I'd be fine?" Your response causes him to let out a laugh, which makes you frown. "What's so funny?"
"T'kanka, if I hit you with a fireball, all you'd need is aloe vera. I'm not a very accomplished mage!" He continues to laugh heartily, and despite yourself you also let out a small chuckle. "If I was a powerful mage, I wouldn't have need of your assistance, no?"
"I suppose not."
The two of you continue on into the woods, bantering during the day and resting during the night. A few times you nearly let slip some of your old stories, but you doubt the man would care any for them. Plus, he silences you before you can get started on them anyhow. One night you almost mention your old friends when Gi'anti holds up a hand. "I enjoy your company, T'kanka, but I'd prefer if our relationship be kept professional. No point getting attached if you're going to leave anyway."
Eventually, the two of you pass through the city of Tolast, Gi'anti selling some of his crab shells to anyone looking for a fix. He sells a particularly large amount to a noble passing through, who gives him a nice stack of gold coins in exchange. The mule is extra burdened from then on due to the sheer size of the bag of gold.
Eventually, the two of you cross the border from the Kingdom of Oren to the Empire of Kishak, after about a month on the road. "I would appreciate if you would stay on my caravan, T'kanka," Gi'anti says while the two of you set up camp for the night. "But I understand if you wish to leave. We've come far, and that was all you wished to do."
You have a decision to make. Will you stay on with Gi'anti, continuing your travels together, or depart come sunrise?
> You much as you enjoy his company, you need to leave. You'll tell him as much.
You shake your head. "I'm sorry, Gi'anti, but I must go. I enjoyed our time together but I need to carve my own path in this world. I'll leave come sunrise." With those words you finish setting up your tent. Gi'anti sighs, shakes his head a bit. Still, he smiles.
"Do you know what T'kanka means, my friend?"
You shake your head. "No."
"It's the name of a legendary warrior, where I come from. T'kanka, the Wandering King. Able to slay an army with one swing of his sword, able to traverse thousands of miles in a single day, and able to survive no matter how many times he is struck. Of course, these are all myths, but T'kanka was a real man. Legend has it that after his death, his body denied this fact, and he continued to roam, forever." Gi'anti leans forward. "I saw in your eyes the same spirit that I imagine T'kanka to have."
You suppose you must be flattered by that, so you crack Gi'anti a small smile. The two of you then begin to banter again, as you've done in the past month, and finally lay down to sleep. Come sunrise, you may never see this man again. But you know that you've made a brother for life in him.
In the morning light, you leave, never once looking back.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 8 | false |
As you walk past the stable to the inn's door, a woman, looking to be in her late 20s, walks out of the stables. Her hands are calloused and her fair skin tinged red, no doubt from working under the sun all day. As she spots you, she looks surprised for a moment, before smiling. "Oh, hello sir! Stopping at the inn for the night? I was just about to head in myself."
You grunt out something resembling a "yes", and she nods. "The place is real nice, sir. My father runs it, I manage the stables for him. My name is Eliza, what would yours be?" She extends a hand, perhaps thinking you'll shake it. You don't, and after an awkward moment she withdraws it.
You do, however, give her a response. "Kit."
"That's a nice name, sir." She smiles at you still. You continue to frown. Eventually, her shining grin falters, and she looks worried. "Something wrong, sir?"
"I didn't come here to chat."
Her face falls a bit more, but she regains her smile. "Of course not, sir. I'm sorry if I held you up. Let's go."
"Right." You move to leave. Eliza follows after you, and you turn to look at her over your shoulder. "Oh, and stop saying sir at the end of every sentence. Makes you seem uptight." Her face falls a bit at that, but she keeps her smile plastered on her face.
As you open the door to the inn, a pleasant warmth hits you in the face. You step inside, Eliza following after you. The entrance of the inn is empty save for a man behind a wooden counter up front, tapping the counter with his finger. He looks at you, and a smile makes its way onto his face, disturbing his bushy mustache. "Ah, Eliza! Welcome back. Who's this, potential customer?"
"Yes, father. His name is Kit. Kit, this is my father, Isaiah. Go on, sir... Um, I mean, Kit." Good, she caught herself.
You step forward to the man behind the counter, staring down at his sitting form. "How much for a room?" you ask.
"Just 5 gold pieces a night, sir. Throw in an extra coin for as many drinks as you can have." That piques your interest. You open your coin pouch and pull out six coins, tossing them onto the counter. The owner takes a moment to count them out, before he nods. He slips the coins into a lockbox under the counter, before grabbing a key from behind him. "Very good, sir. Here's your room key, room 8."
You nod at him, taking the key from his hands and looking around. "There's a dining hall to the right," Isaiah points to an archway. "You can get your drinks there if you want. We have ale, wine, fruit juice, and water."
"Alright." You pocket your key, then head straight for the dining room. Heading through the doorway, you see that it's far more lively in here, different people milling about and sitting at different tables. You spot a few interesting folks, but one really catches your eye: a man with tanned skin, dressed in clothing made of brightly colored textiles. He must be a wandering merchant from the distant lands of Cikoni.
You wonder what he's doing here. Maybe he could use a guard, could get you a steady source of income and get you far away from the kingdom. Alternatively, you can just get your drink and sit by yourself.
> You just get your drink.
You decide not to bother the wandering trader, instead taking a seat at a table by your lonesome. Eventually, the trader gets up and leaves, heading back to his room for the night. You never see him again. After a few more drinks, you stumble out of the dining hall and up the stairs to your room. There, you throw your sword and knapsack to the floor, before passing out on your bed.
In the morning, you awake to a woman's scream. Groggily, you get up, heading to the door so you can see what the hell is going on - grabbing your sword along the way, of course. When you head down the stairs, you see a pair of thugs roughing up the owner, Isaiah. His daughter Eliza watches on, tears streaming from her eyes, as a third thug holds her back. The two harassing Isaiah stick a lit cigar into his face. This time, it's Isaiah who screams.
The thugs laugh at him, sadistic grins on their faces. Your stomach turns. This is disgusting.
Then, one of the thugs turns his head and looks at you. He whistles, the other two looking at you soon after. One with a strange piercing in his nose lets out a laugh. "Oi, you! Quit yer starin' and get outta here, chump." Perhaps you should do something about this, or not. After all, this doesn't involve you.
> The sick bastards. You'll strike them down.
You unsheathe your blade, pointing it at the bastards. One of them gulps almost imperceptibly, but the one who spoke to you just lets out another nasty laugh. "Wanna play hero, eh?" He callously drops Isaiah, pulls a mace from his side. The others follow suit, pulling out their own weapons; one has a curved blade, the other a pair of daggers. This should be easy.
You leap forward and swing, managing to decapitate the one with daggers easily. Blood gushes from his neck, before he falls to the floor, lifeless. This manages to scare the other two, but mace guy nudges sword guy, the latter nodding before rushing forward to cut at you. You don't bother to use your sword on him, instead ducking out of the way of his swing then tripping him up. Then you use the sword, cutting him right in half with one swing while he lies on the ground.
At this point, mace is quaking in fear. He drops his weapon, raising his hands and getting on his knees. "I-I surrender! Please, don't kill me!" You step forward, planning on delivering the killing blow...
But mace leaps up and pulls a dagger from his boot! His speed surprises you, and he manages to catch you with a glancing blow. Instantly, you begin to feel light-headed, almost unsteady. Still, you swing, cutting off his arm and wedging your blade deep into his side. He lets out an ungodly scream, then dies.
You grin, give a little chuckle. Then you collapse.
When you awaken next, you're in a soft bed, a bandage wrapped around your wound. It throbs still, and your throat is parched. A soft groan escapes your lips, then you grunt out, "water", hoping someone may hear you. There's a slight shuffling, then a cup of water is handed to you. You look up at who gave it to you, and there stands Eliza. She smiles.
"I can't thank you enough for what you did... But you've brought trouble to the village at the same time. There was one watching outside, he told his leader about what happened. They came to town early this morning and said that if we don't surrender all our goods, they'll raze the place. We have until tomorrow to decide."
"Really..." The word that escape your lips comes out less as a question and more as a statement.
"Yes, really."
"How long have I been out?"
"4 days now. The dagger was poisoned. We got our healer to work on you, you should be fine if you rest another few days."
That gets you to jolt up, hissing slightly as you grip your wound. "I can't. I have to leave."
"Please, just relax. You'll be better soon. We plan to surrender to them. And as far as they know, you're dead; we hid you well. You'll be safe to rest here."
Hmph. So they're giving up, simple as that? Back in your day the people would have fought back tooth and nail. What are you going to do?
> You you'll leave. Now. There's no reason to defend those who won't defend themselves.
You pretend that you'll stay to rest, and convince Eliza you'll be fine by yourself. She leaves the room, and after a minute, you get up and search for your things. Thankfully, they left them right at the foot of the bed. Fools, probably didn't expect you to try and leave.
You get into your clothes and throw on your knapsack, securing your sword onto your back. You open the door, seeing that it leads outside; it's night time, which means your escape will be easier. Keeping down low, you sneak to the edge of the village, where you finally stand, noting that your escape went unnoticed. You prepare to walk away...
"So you are leaving."
Turning, you see Eliza standing there. She looks sad, but smiles nonetheless. "I knew you would. You didn't strike me as the type to be patient and rest. Am I right?"
"Right." You turn your back on her. "You won't convince me to stay. I'll recover on my own."
"I figured as much." She sighs. "I wish you well on your travels, Kit." Then, she turns and leaves.
You continue onwards into the night.
THE END
| 4 |
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The next day, you begin the journey to the fortress, escorted by a few rebels, and Bolard himself. It takes several days to get there, and you get to pass by Arrorn on the way, so that's fun. (Though, you don't get to actually enter the village. Too much risk of being recognized or something).
Finally, you spot it, sitting on a hilltop just on the horizon.
"Alright," Bolard says, "There's a little side door you're going to be let in through. It leads straight to the great hall. Once you get inside, kill as many people as you can, alright? Especially the ones that look super regal, because those are probably royalty."
"Anything else?" you ask, dryly.
"Actually, yes. The king wears this magic armor all the time. He doesn't get hurt by physical attacks."
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" you protest, "What do you want me to do about him if I can't hurt him?"
"I'm getting to that!" Bolard sounds annoyed, "I do have something that'll kill him."
He reaches into his bag and pulls out a glass bottle full of... water.
"What's this for?" You ask.
"What do you think? It'll get through the cracks in his armor, and kill him!"
"It's water."
"Exactly! Water kills people!"
"I don't follow."
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that water disintegrates people? The skin soaks up too much and it just falls apart."
"That's not how it works for Humans," you say, "We can touch water, no problem."
"Really? Well, that sure makes things easier. This way you can cross the moat, no problem! I was wondering how we'd do that."
"Yeah... Okay." You roll your eyes. "Just give me the bottle. I'll smash it over his head or something."
As you get closer to the fortress, you start to make out more detail. It looks like it mainly consists of a bunch of towers, surrounded by a wooden wall. By the time the sun sets, you're within a hundred yards of the walls.
"Perfect!" Bolard says, "Look, all the nobles are already inside." He points to the closed drawbridge, as if to prove it. "The doorway is just around the back of the fortress. Good luck, monster."
"Thanks," you say, rolling your eyes. You grab your knife and hop into the moat, making it across in less than a minute. You rush around the side of the wall and find a door, carved into the side. Just as you reach it, it flies open, and a female Oalkwardner beckons you inside.
As soon as you enter the fortress, the nauseating smell of Oalkwardner food hits your nose. You ignore it best you can and take a look around. You're in an alcove at the edge of the great hall, which consists mainly of a bunch of wooden tables lined up together. Over fifty Oalkwardners sit around it, laughing, eating, getting drunk...
This is perfect! If they're tipsy, you can strike much more easily. Quickly, you locate the king, (his armor sets him apart from the rest quite nicely), and sneak up behind him. Then, in one quick motion, you bash the bottle over his head, shattering it into a million pieces. The water splashes everywhere, (it definitely wasn't a small bottle), and the entire room goes silent. Then, the king begins to scream, and the room erupts into chaos.
Quick as you can, you start punching, kicking, stabbing right and left. Oalkwardners go flying everywhere, most dying the instant you touch them. You manage to take out about half of the nobles before they get wise and start running for the door. At the same time, some of the guards seem to be getting ready for a counter attack. You'd better figure out what to do next, and fast...
> You go after the rest of the so-called nobles
You can't leave any behind to take the king's place, or else the entire mission is a failure. You rush out after them, easily catching up to them with your longer legs. Guess they're not the types to exercise... or do whatever it is these creatures have to do to get stronger. You plow through them like they're snowmen. But the guards begin to come after you, and they clearly do exercise. They begin to surround you as you chase the last noble across the courtyard. (Most of them never made it past the great hall door).
Just as the guards close in, you leap atop the last noble, crushing him under your weight! He dies instantly. Unfortunately for you, the guards reach you at that exact moment, stabbing you in about fifteen different places at once. You also die instantly.
But hey. At least you saved the kingdom. Sort of...
| 3 |
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The next two weeks are a blur. You train for six hours a day, preparing for the big day. Before you know it, it's nearly arrived. The night before, you find another note on your pillow, this one a little longer than the last.
"Enclosed is the note you must plant in the fortress," It reads, "I hope you've decided to help us, as we desperately need it. Meet us in the woods behind the fortress once you've done the job, and we can escape."
There's another piece of paper, this one explaining everything about the rebellion, where to find their headquarters, and how best to stop them. You skim it, then shove it in your pocket. You're still not sure whether to go along with the rebellions plan, or join the defectors. Whatever you do, you'll have to decide now...
> You go along with the defectors plans
What are you thinking? Of course you're going along with them! This rebellion kidnaps children, for crying out loud! There's no way they'd make good rulers. You finger the note in your pocket, your resolve slowly growing. Tomorrow, you get to leave this place forever. With that thought in mind, sleep comes easy...
The next day, you begin the journey to the fortress, escorted by a few rebels, and Bolard himself. It takes several days to get there, and you get to pass by Arrorn on the way, so that's fun. (Though, you don't get to actually enter the village. Too much risk of being recognized or something).
Finally, you spot it, sitting on a hilltop just on the horizon. The King's fortress.
"Alright," Bolard says, "I didn't have much to do last night, so I thought a lot about the plan. We've got an informant inside the fortress who can let you in so you can carry out the mission. Just do what we discussed and we'll be fine." He thinks for a moment, then says, "Also, I brought something in case the king doesn't fall so easy. He's got this enchanted armor, and I'm not quite sure you'll be able to break through it. So, I procured a bottle of water." He pulls a glass bottle out of his bag and hands it to you carefully.
"What's this for?" You ask.
"What do you think? It'll get through the cracks in his armor, and kill him!"
"It's water."
"Exactly! Water kills people!"
"I don't follow."
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that water disintegrates people? The skin soaks up too much and it just falls apart."
"That's not how it works for Humans," you say, "We can touch water, no problem."
"Really? Well, that sure makes things easier. This way you can cross the moat, no problem! I was wondering how we'd do that."
"Yeah... Okay." You roll your eyes. "Just give me the bottle. I'll smash it over his head or something."
As you get closer to the fortress, you start to make out more detail. It looks like it mainly consists of a bunch of towers, surrounded by a wooden wall. By the time the sun sets, you're within a hundred yards of the walls.
"Alright," Bolard says, "Good luck monster!" He gives you a shove towards the moat. You jump right in and swim across, making it to the other side in less than a minute. You head around the back of the castle, where you find door carved into the wall. As you're contemplating how to get inside, it swings open and a female Oalkwardner beckons you inside.
That's when you realize you'll have to kill her so she doesn't reveal that you're a traitor once you escape. As soon as she shuts the door, you bash her over the head with your fist, taking her out instantly. You feel a little guilty about it, because after all, she did let you in. But then, the king is probably gonna execute all of the rebels anyway, right?
You're in a little alcove in the great hall, unseen by the group of people at the table, talking and laughing. There's another door nearby, presumably to the courtyard. You'll head out there in a moment, but first you've gotta figure out the best way to deal with the note...
> You go up to the table and deliver it yourself
You have to make sure the king gets this note, don't you? So, you walk right up to the table, reaching in your pocket for the note.
But before you can say so much as a word, someone screams. Now what on earth could've caused that? You look around, but realize they're all looking at you, backing away. You open your mouth to say that you come in peace, but before you do, a guard rushes over and stabs you in the gut! You're so surprised, you don't do anything when the others come and follow suit!
You fall to the ground, still clutching the note in your hand. Your vision swims, then fades to black. Hopefully they'll still find the note in your hand. They'll probably feel pretty stupid about killing a potential ally, but that's their loss...
| 3 |
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What are you thinking? Of course you're going along with them! This rebellion kidnaps children, for crying out loud! There's no way they'd make good rulers. You finger the note in your pocket, your resolve slowly growing. Tomorrow, you get to leave this place forever. With that thought in mind, sleep comes easy...
The next day, you begin the journey to the fortress, escorted by a few rebels, and Bolard himself. It takes several days to get there, and you get to pass by Arrorn on the way, so that's fun. (Though, you don't get to actually enter the village. Too much risk of being recognized or something).
Finally, you spot it, sitting on a hilltop just on the horizon. The King's fortress.
"Alright," Bolard says, "I didn't have much to do last night, so I thought a lot about the plan. We've got an informant inside the fortress who can let you in so you can carry out the mission. Just do what we discussed and we'll be fine." He thinks for a moment, then says, "Also, I brought something in case the king doesn't fall so easy. He's got this enchanted armor, and I'm not quite sure you'll be able to break through it. So, I procured a bottle of water." He pulls a glass bottle out of his bag and hands it to you carefully.
"What's this for?" You ask.
"What do you think? It'll get through the cracks in his armor, and kill him!"
"It's water."
"Exactly! Water kills people!"
"I don't follow."
"Didn't anyone ever tell you that water disintegrates people? The skin soaks up too much and it just falls apart."
"That's not how it works for Humans," you say, "We can touch water, no problem."
"Really? Well, that sure makes things easier. This way you can cross the moat, no problem! I was wondering how we'd do that."
"Yeah... Okay." You roll your eyes. "Just give me the bottle. I'll smash it over his head or something."
As you get closer to the fortress, you start to make out more detail. It looks like it mainly consists of a bunch of towers, surrounded by a wooden wall. By the time the sun sets, you're within a hundred yards of the walls.
"Alright," Bolard says, "Good luck monster!" He gives you a shove towards the moat. You jump right in and swim across, making it to the other side in less than a minute. You head around the back of the castle, where you find door carved into the wall. As you're contemplating how to get inside, it swings open and a female Oalkwardner beckons you inside.
That's when you realize you'll have to kill her so she doesn't reveal that you're a traitor once you escape. As soon as she shuts the door, you bash her over the head with your fist, taking her out instantly. You feel a little guilty about it, because after all, she did let you in. But then, the king is probably gonna execute all of the rebels anyway, right?
You're in a little alcove in the great hall, unseen by the group of people at the table, talking and laughing. There's another door nearby, presumably to the courtyard. You'll head out there in a moment, but first you've gotta figure out the best way to deal with the note...
> You leave it stuck between the door and the wall on your way out
You slip out the door before anyone notices you, leaving the note behind. Now, you're in the fortress courtyard. Luckily, it's deserted, probably thanks to the banquet. Even more lucky, you spy another exit door just across the courtyard. You head straight for it and try to open it. To your immense surprise, it swings right open. Are they really this under prepared? What if someone broke into the fortress through that?
You step outside the walls, and realize that there's no handle on the other side. Closed, the door blends seamlessly with the wall, making it completely invisible. How interesting, looks like they had an escape route planned in case of an attack. So smart of them.
You cross the moat and hurry back into the forest, hoping against hope that Bolard doesn't see you. Once you're a good hundred feet in, a voice from besides you nearly makes you jump out of your skin.
"Did you do it?"
You turn to see the masked Oalkwardner and a few others looking at you, waiting for an answer.
"Yeah," you say, "It's done."
"Perfect!" The Oalkwardner pulls off his mask, revealing his face. "Now that I know I can trust you, I can take this stupid thing off. I was just wearing it in case you betrayed us or something. My name is Culmad, by the way. Now what do you say we get the heck out of here?"
"Yeah," you say, "Why don't we?"
And you set off into the forest, together.
When word gets out about what you did, you will be hailed as a hero, the savior of the kingdom. But for now, perhaps you ought to just try your best to make a life for yourself in this place. It seems like you've already got yourself a few friends to start your new life with. Best of luck...
| 3 |
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| 6 | false |
You are at the bottom of a spiral staircase, leading up to the surface. Three, hard packed dirt tunnels branch off from here, each with a sign that tells where it leads. A notice board full of announcements hangs on one wall. You glance over it and notice one in particular reminding the whole facility of a mandatory meeting at this very time. This is perfect! You'll be able to explore the whole place without being caught!
The first tunnel is marked "auditorium," the second says "Lab," and the third, "Containment."
> You go down the path labeled "lab"
You head down the tunnel, trying your best to tiptoe. The earthy ground helps muffle your footfalls, thank goodness, but it doesn't matter. There's no one in the tunnel. When you reach the end, you find yourself in a room made of wood. Shelves line the walls, filled to the brim, not only with books, but also with other curiosities. Jars of frogs, and creatures stranger still, all of them dead. There are little models, carved from wood, bits of untempered metal and glass, among other things.
A wooden cauldron sits in the center of the room, with a strange liquid sitting in it, still as glass. A table stands off to the side, holding numerous cups and bowls of different liquids and powders, none of which you recognize. A neat stack of papers sits on one end of the table, pinned down by a particularly large bowl of rocks.
Everything here is perfectly neat and organized. Nothing is so much as an inch out of place, even the tiniest grains of powder in the bowls seem to have a strange, indescribable order to them.
> You fill a bottle of the cauldron liquid
You take off your backpack and rifle through it, until you find just what you need: an empty plastic bottle. (You finished off the mountain dew the first day you got here). Quickly, you dip the bottle into the cauldron and fill it up, screwing the cap back on once you're done. Let's just see what you can accomplish with that...
| 4 |
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| 2 | false |
You head down the tunnel, trying your best to tiptoe. The earthy ground helps muffle your footfalls, thank goodness, but it doesn't matter. There's no one in the tunnel. When you reach the end, you find yourself in a room made of wood. Shelves line the walls, filled to the brim, not only with books, but also with other curiosities. Jars of frogs, and creatures stranger still, all of them dead. There are little models, carved from wood, bits of untempered metal and glass, among other things.
A wooden cauldron sits in the center of the room, with a strange liquid sitting in it, still as glass. A table stands off to the side, holding numerous cups and bowls of different liquids and powders, none of which you recognize. A neat stack of papers sits on one end of the table, pinned down by a particularly large bowl of rocks.
Everything here is perfectly neat and organized. Nothing is so much as an inch out of place, even the tiniest grains of powder in the bowls seem to have a strange, indescribable order to them.
> You check the notes
You take the bowl of rocks off of the stack of papers and glance at the paper on top.
"To destroy and Oalkfrier," the title reads. Below are a few paragraphs in immaculate handwriting.
"Oalkfriers are essential to the master plan of the Order of the Broken Chalice, however, they must be neutralized once they've served their purpose, lest they overrun the kingdom. I have created a poison of sorts, powerful enough to destroy these creatures within seconds. For now, it sits in the cauldron in my lab, waiting to be used. It is nearly perfect, as much so as I can hope to make it. Just in case something is to happen to me before the plan is carried out, (though I highly doubt it), I will relay the instructions for its use below"
"The poison is inactive until acted upon by a catalyst of some sort. This is for the safety of those using it. To activate, place a generous helping of Sodium Chloride (table salt), into it. (I have a bowl full of it on my desk in the lab). Then, throw it on the Oalkfrier as fast as you can. Get as far away as you can, as even the fumes from this deadly cocktail are enough to kill a whole room full of Oalkwardners. (You should be alright so long as you're outside, but I still wouldn't chance it."
You look up from the paper. The bowl of salt is just to the left of the stack of notes. On a whim, you pick it up to take it with you.
| 4 |
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| 7 | false |
You are at the bottom of a spiral staircase, leading up to the surface. Three, hard packed dirt tunnels branch off from here, each with a sign that tells where it leads. A notice board full of announcements hangs on one wall. You glance over it and notice one in particular reminding the whole facility of a mandatory meeting at this very time. This is perfect! You'll be able to explore the whole place without being caught!
The first tunnel is marked "auditorium," the second says "Lab," and the third, "Containment."
> You go down the path labeled "containment"
You sneak down the tunnel, checking around every corner just in case someone hasn't made it to the meeting yet. It wouldn't do to get caught now, there's no telling how many Oalkwardners are holed up down here. Luckily, the tunnel isn't that long, and after a few twists and turns, you find yourself in a large, dimly lit room, full what looks to be some kind of boxes
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but when you do, you realize that these aren't boxes at all, but cages, just like the one they used to carry Pila's remains through the forest. What's more, every last one of them has a wooden Oalkwardner inside them, exactly like Pila after the lightning struck her. Gripped with a deadly cocktail of curiosity and fear, you approach the cage nearest to you and peer inside for a better look. It's a perfect likeness of an Oalkwardner child, right down to the Paper-Mache quality of it's skin. The only thing that's missing are the ears, which look like they've been broken off.
"What on earth have they done to you?" You whisper to yourself.
Aroused by the sound of your voice, the eyes of the wooden Oalkwardner snap open. They give off a harsh, yellow glow, lighting up the dim room just a little. You stare at the creature, stunned, and it stares back. Then, without warning, it leaps at the bars of the cage, snarling. You leap backwards in the nick of time as one of its arms reaches between the bars and takes a grab at you.
The noise wakes the other creatures and before you know it, all of them are attacking their bars, trying to get at you. Fear overtakes you, and you take off running back down the way you came. What on earth was that anyway? What do they want with all these monsters? How are they creating them? All these questions race through your mind, unanswered, as you reach the crossroads once again.
| 3 |
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| 11 | false |
As you get closer to him, you arc your sword over your head, aiming for his neck. The Imperial soldier slams it away with the flat of his blade and, mid-push, brings his blade back down. The sword cuts through your thick leather armor, biting into your shoulder.
You wince and grunt as he pulls his sword, the both of you passing each other and turning in preparation to charge again. Behind him, you see that the orcs seem to have pushed the Imperial horsemen back a bit, and the orcs on the hill have wounded several archers in each column.
The battle is going well enough for the orcs.
As you charge the Imperial knight again, you consider your next move.
> You throw your axe at the knight
As you both ride forward, the knight tenses up, preparing to run you through. Pulling the axe from its loop, you whip it forward. The axe whirls landing in his shoulder, almost making him fall off his horse. Despite this injury he manages to hang onto his horse, pulling the axe from his shoulder.
Yet there isn't the familiar sight of blood oozing from the wound, just a ripped robe and silver gleaming in the sunlight.
"You'll have to do better than that, brute," the knight says while twirling the axe.
Glaring at him, you accept his challenge, you spur your horse onward.
The knight does the same, holding both sword and axe in hand. As he rides forward, you get an idea.
> You stab his neck under his helmet
You lean in as you ride forward, intent on pushing the tip of your sword under his helmet, which should pierce his throat.
As the knight gets closer, you lunge, pushing the blade forward. He slams his sword into yours, simultaneously pushing it forward and sliding the axe blade along it.
Before you even realize what is happening, the sword blade is biting through your neck. The axe follows tearing through your flesh, muscle, and severing your neck bone. You barely feel a thing as your head rolls to the floor, your vision darkening as the knight rides on, and your body falls to join you.
| 3 |
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| 3 | false |
As you both ride forward, the knight tenses up, preparing to run you through. Pulling the axe from its loop, you whip it forward. The axe whirls landing in his shoulder, almost making him fall off his horse. Despite this injury he manages to hang onto his horse, pulling the axe from his shoulder.
Yet there isn't the familiar sight of blood oozing from the wound, just a ripped robe and silver gleaming in the sunlight.
"You'll have to do better than that, brute," the knight says while twirling the axe.
Glaring at him, you accept his challenge, you spur your horse onward.
The knight does the same, holding both sword and axe in hand. As he rides forward, you get an idea.
> You use bow
Not wanting to get close to this knight, you decide to this would have to do. Sheathing your sword, you sling your bow from your back, notching an arrow just as fast.
"Huh?" the knight says in surprise.
You release the arrow, and with a twang it soars through the air. The knight barely has time to react before the arrow lands in between his helmet and silver coat. It protrudes from his neck as dark blood spills out, a gurgling sound coming from his throat.
The knight struggles to stay up on the horse, falling onto the ground below. You manage to recover your axe before you hear a loud cry coming out from the forest behind you.
| 3 |
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| 4 | false |
With the strange campsite far behind you, the group seems to be more at ease. The forest is much more serene and offers some peace and quiet.
A stream trickles by, as your horse steps over it, you hear some sounds up ahead.
Greusim looks over his shoulder at the group behind him, and you nod at him.
You, Greusim, Rolomag, Dekard, and some other orcs all leave your horses to go scout ahead. The main group waits for your return.
The unmistakable sounds of violence penetrate your ears. Peering from the foliage, you see two things. The first must be Imperial soldiers, with their flat top helms and robes over what appears to be some kind of silver coat.
Cowards. The orcs only use some padding from their leather armor and sometimes studs. Anything more would just weigh a warrior down and keep him from being effective.
From what you can see, they have two separate lines of archers by the trees, and in the clearing between them are soldiers on horseback. Ahead, on a rocky hill, a group of orcs seems to be holding their ground, trading arrows with the Imperial archers. Once in a while, an orc taking a shot at one of the horsemen, but always missing.
In between two groups lays a slain Imperial, a spear in his back, and a dead orc with the spear still gripped in his hands. The orc has several arrows protruding from his back. Judging by his face paint, it looks like these orcs are one of the lawless bands of orcs.
"We need to help them," Rolomag says as he starts forward.
You grab him by the shoulder, pulling him back.
"Stop. We don't know who started it," you say. "This isn't a proper orc tribe. They're just some vagabonds."
"Does it matter? They're still orcs," Rolomag says.
"No, Nolazir may be right," Greusim says. "We should let the Imperials know they aren't working on behalf of all of orcin."
"Are you really going to listen to this?" Rolomag asks. "Nolazir, the Empire won't care either way. They will blame all of us."
"No, we can make peace with them," Greusim says.
Greusim looks at you.
"You believe me, don't you, Nolazir?"
Chief Greusim looks genuinely concerned about whether or not you believe him or not. You look to Rolomag, he raises an eyebrow, not lifting the scowl on his face for a moment.
> You help the Orcs
You look to Greusim.
"Sorry chief," you say, "Rolomag is right. We need to work with the orcs, besides, the Imperials encroached on our lands."
You draw your sword.
"And there must be consequences."
You tell Dekard to get the rest of the orcs, in the meantime you wait.
"Nolazir," Greusim says, "I'm disappointed in you. We're in no position, and we will never be in a position to fight the Empire."
"It's for the good of Orcin," you say, "we'll teach them a lesson."
The rest of the orcs arrive, and you look out towards them.
"Please chief," you say, "help us defend our home."
He looks at the ground for a moment, but returns to answer you.
"If you all think it is best, I will help you."
Making sure to stay in cover, you wonder what the best course of action would be.
> You attack the Horsemen
Feeling bold, you suggest to go straight for the horsemen first, then fan out to the sides and wipe out the archers. Some of the orcs have reservations about this plan, as it would place you right into the center of the archers.
But by Grikalia, you won't let some sharp objects scare you.
"We go in fast, and we go in deadly," you say raising your sword.
Most orcs nod, and some reluctantly agree, including Greusim. You all get on your horses, waiting for the right moment, although there really isn't one.
On Greusim's command you all charge forward, readying your weapons to meet these humans. The archers fire at your group, an arrow whirling right by your head. The cries and thudding of fallen comrades sounds out as the arrows kill several of your comrades.
A low gasp, an arrow sticks out of chief Greusim's chest. His face scrunches up in pain, but he ignores it and rides on, letting out a war cry of rage and pain.
One of the horsemen comes circling back from near the hill. Seeing you all on the attack, he draws his sword, arcing it over his head as he rides towards you.
You decide to accept his challenge, arrows whirling around you and the sound of fighting in your ears.
| 4 |
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| 3 | false |
Scanning the area, you decide it would be best to take out the archers first. Your plan is to split the groups into two, each taking out a column of archers, and then catching the knights in a pincer attack.
You and the chief lead one group to the closest archers, and Dekard and another orc lead the others. They take their group a longer way as their targets are further away. Although you figure your distraction will let them take the other column even easier.
You slowly pass through the trees, the sounds of fighting slowly dying down until you creep up behind the archers. The orcs prepare their weapons, waiting for the signal.
As you are about to charge, an Imperial archer steps out from behind a tree, adjusting his belt and sighing contentedly. Although his hood is up and his mask is pulled up over most of his face, you see the surprise in his eyes when he sees you all.
"Attack!" he cries, and at this point you all gallop forward.
The archers scramble to get ready, and Greusim make a passing swing for the Imperial. He ducks under, and in the same movement grabs onto Greusim and his horse, pulling himself onto it.
As you ride forward, and Greusim tries to throw the archer off, the Imperial draws a small dagger. The chief cries out in agony as the Imperial buries the blade into his back. The chief falls, taking the Imperial with him.
The other orcs are coming up on the archer column, several having been killed by arrows. Greusim groans and the archer attempts to stab him, but he catches his wrist, and the push and struggle. Normally Greusim could easily overpower him, but getting thrown off the horse must have done a number on him.
> You help Greusim
You whip the axe, the blade burying into the archer's shoulder blade. He screams in pain as he stumbles to the side, almost tripping over Greusim. He tries to pull the axe out, but Greusim gets a hand on it first.
Still on the ground, he wrenches the axe out, swinging it back around and slamming it into the Imperial's stomach. He doubles over as the chief rips the axe out, and the Imperial falls to his knees clutching the wound. With a savage cry, Greusim arcs the weapon back around, burying it into the Imperials neck. He falls twitching and gurgling as his blood seeps out into the earth.
Panting, Greusim pulls the axe out, tossing it to you.
"Thanks," he says, and you nod at him.
The other orcs seem to be wrecking the column pretty well, even though several orcs have been shot down by the deadly volleys.
"Well, let's get to i-" Greusim says, almost stumbling as an arrow rips into his back.
You ride over, looping around the tree and lopping off an archers arm.
Several more materialize from the trees, firing at you. Ducking you circle back around, hopping off your horse. Sliding behind a tree, you and Greusim ready your bows.
Stepping out, you don't realize the archers were trying to creep up on you. You slam your notched bow into his, causing his arrow to hit the dirt, before bringing yours back and shooting him in the throat. He gurgles as he staggers to the ground.
Before you know it, the archers are charging you. A couple arrows flying by you as you draw your axe. To your right, Greusim cracks a couple of skulls with his club. You deflect a sword, chopping into an Imperial's shoulder.
One jumps onto you, grabbing you and trying to restrain you. His friend tries to run you through with his sword, but you step to the side. The soldier's sword plunges into the tree, and as you raise your sword he desperately tries to yank it out. He screams as you spill his blood onto the grass, specks hitting the tree.
The archer on your back grips your forearm, trying to turn your sword into you. You chuckle and jab the sword back, the tip stabbing him in the face. He cries out and you throw him over your shoulder, stomping on his neck to silence him.
You look up, ready to take the next one, but you see them laying crushed and bleeding around Greusim. He pants as he kneels, deep cuts and gouges all over him. Three arrows protrude from his back, side, and hip. The archers must have thought the other two were going to kill you, and decided to all focus on him.
"Chief!" you cry out.
He stands up, waving you off.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," he says, "let's go find the rest, Nolazir."
You nod and go with him to find the rest, mounting your horses. As you ride out you see that both columns of archers have been destroyed. The lawless orcs on the hill must have swept down and fought the knights, as evidenced by the butchered corpses on the ground.
Greusim climbs onto his horse as you ride forward. Before you can do anything else, a loud cry rises up from the forest behind you.
| 3 |
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| 8 | false |
You walk to the cave's entrance, lighting your lantern. Within the inky black darkness are piles of bones. Most of them are those of animals, though you spot a human skull in there. This might have been a bad idea. Still, you carry onward, swinging your sword around from your back and gripping the hilt tightly.
As you journey further, you find no sign of bears or wolves or the like. So, you carry onward, intent on slaying whatever beast may live here. It is deeper into the cave that you begin to hear and feel a low rumbling. It shakes you to your core, and your knuckles whiten as you grip your sword tighter. Is it what you think it is?
Your question is answered when your lantern's light glints off of maroon scales.
A dragon, slumbering on a pile of branches and bones. By the size of it, it appears to be young, no older than perhaps an infant, though that does not mean that it will be friendly. Nearby are the skeletal remains of another dragon, this beast far larger. Was it orphaned? You've no idea.
You are about to make your leave so you don't face the wrath of the beast when its eyes snap open.
> You this beast might be wild. You swing wildly, hoping to wound it.
You swing wildly, a yell escaping your lips. The blade meets the dragon's rough scales, and it lets out a roar of mixed agony and rage. Blood drips from its wounds, and it rears back, head turning to look at the deep gash in its side... Then, it charges at you.
It barrels into you, sending you onto your ass. Another roar escapes its mouth, swiping a claw at you. You block the blow with your sword, cutting deeper into the dragon's hand, and it rears back yet again to determine its next move. It must not be used to fighting.
It's making for another charge.
> You stand your ground and stick your sword out, hoping the beast runs into it.
As the dragon charges forward, you stick your blade out, hoping that it will be unable to stop and impale itself on your sword. Instead, it ducks below the blade, and though you try to adjust quickly and bring the sword down onto the animal, you're too late. It charges into you, this time biting into your stomach. You let out a yell of pain, repeatedly bringing your sword down onto its back, but by the time it is finally dead the damage is done.
Your entrails are spilling out of your torso. Bloody coughs escape your lips. There's no coming back from this, unless a healer suddenly happened to come by. With your luck, another dragon would sooner come by instead. Eventually, the pain stops, and you close your eyes with a shuddering, blood-tinged sigh...
THE END
| 2 |
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| 6 | false |
You swing wildly, a yell escaping your lips. The blade meets the dragon's rough scales, and it lets out a roar of mixed agony and rage. Blood drips from its wounds, and it rears back, head turning to look at the deep gash in its side... Then, it charges at you.
It barrels into you, sending you onto your ass. Another roar escapes its mouth, swiping a claw at you. You block the blow with your sword, cutting deeper into the dragon's hand, and it rears back yet again to determine its next move. It must not be used to fighting.
It's making for another charge.
> You leap out of the way, swinging your sword at it whilst you do.
You wait for a moment, to ensure that it's close... And then you leap out of the way of the charge, swinging your sword at it. You manage to nail it right in the belly, the blade cleaving through the dragon's scales and into its flesh. It lets out a blood curdling screech, tumbling a bit as it loses its footing before finally falling over onto the ground.
You walk closer, sword at the ready. The dragon twitches slightly, so you bring your blade onto its throat. That killed it, for sure. With the beast slain, you collapse onto the ground, catching your breath. That was... Intense, to say the least. You've never fought a dragon. If the beast were any bigger, you would have lost, no doubt.
Then, you laugh. You laugh until your ribs ache and tears escape your eyes. Then you laugh some more.
You just slayed a dragon. You must be losing your mind to be doing this sort of stuff again.
After a while of laying there, you fall asleep, and in the morning you wake up recharged despite the aching where the dragon rammed into you. You exit the cave, and begin the track on the path. The excitement of fighting such a monstrous beast and living to tell the tale... It's exhilarating. Why has it been so long since you've felt this? You miss it.
You set out to find more beasts to hunt.
THE END
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
Heeding the warning of the sign, you decide to change direction. You look on the map and find an alternate route. You'll be able to loop around and rejoin I-5 after some time.
As you drive, you begin to notice something is very wrong. You expected to be out of range of whoever the 'Followers' are, but graffiti and roadblocks suggest otherwise. Zombies have been staked to the ground on the side of the road. garbage cans have been laid out to block the roads, and a few of them have fires going in them.
"We need to turn around," you say. Nobody objects, so you throw the car in reverse. You back into the grass, and turn around so that you can pick a different route. But, when you turn, you see a man walk out into the middle of the road. He has something in his hands, but you can't tell what it is. It looks like a bat, or an axe. Suddenly, you see a car driving up the road toward you.
By this time, you realize the mistake you made. You try to turn around to see if you can get out of the backroads, and away from these people. You end up knocking over some trash cans and putting dents in the car, but that's currently the least of your worries. You start to see that forks in the road have been blocked off completely. They're herding you in a certain direction. With the roadblocks, the zombies, and the car behind you, you have nowhere to go.
You have no choice but to follow the intended path for you. You eventually end up in a section of the road that's walled off completely. When you stop, the car behind you stops, blocking you in. A group of people approaches the car from behind roadblocks and trees. Every single one of them is armed with either a gun or a large melee weapon. One man, who is bald and wearing a blood-soaked apron, walks up to your car. He clutches a metal bar in his meaty fist.
"Knock, knock, knock," he says, hitting the top of your car with every word. "Come on out, so we can see our kill." You freeze with fear. The man leans down into the window. "Get out of the car," he says. You slowly open the door, and the man steps aside to let you out. When the four of you are out of the car, The man addresses all of you.
"So," he starts, "Apparently you didn't pay attention to our little warning. This is our turf, and anyone who enters our turf, becomes our property. You four, and everything you have, is ours now. I'm gonna need the keys to your car, and then I'm gonna need you all to step aside, so I can escort you away."
Mikey is the first to act. He gets back in the car, and comes up a moment later with a gun. He points it at the bald man. "Leave us alone," he says.
The man laughs. "Silly boy. Young kids like you shouldn't play with guns," he says. He snaps his fingers, and a small group of men from the crowd steps forward. They rip the gun out of Mikey's hands, and pull him out of view.
"Hey," you say. "Listen, I'm sorry we trespassed, but I don't want any trouble. Please, please, just let us pass. We don't want to bother or hurt anyone. We just have somewhere to be. Can't you-"
The man cuts you off by hitting you in the head with his metal bar. "Fool! Stop trying to plead your case! I told you how it's gonna be! We get your stuff, and you're gonna die!"
> You let him kill you
You stay silent, and get up off the road. The man has a wide, wicked grin on his face. As the others close in on the car, the man hits you again, sending you to your knees. Again, and you're on the ground. Again, and you're barely conscious.
"Signs are there for a reason," the bald man says as your vision swims. "We gave you an honest, fair warning, but you just didn't listen." The man brings the bar down onto your temple, killing you.
"Not my fault you don't listen."
| 3 |
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| 5 | false |
You blindly scramble through the forest, not thinking enough to follow someone else or even pay attention to what direction you're running in. You point yourself towards the helicopter, since you assume that's where the others are going.
You can easily outrun the horde, that's no problem. Once you're far enough away, your biggest concern becomes finding the others. You scan the forest in search of familiar faces, but find none. In panic, you continue towards the helicopter. The horde of zed has made its way further out, and a few eager corpses have already made it pretty far out.
You hear yelling from a few yards away, and see Roger running in the direction of the helicopter. You run up to follow, and call his name. He looks around, spots you, and waves you over.
"Come on!" he shouts. "Back to the helicopter!" A few moments later, you hear gunshots nearby. The others.
"Should we go back?" you ask. Roger doesn't answer, he's dead set on making it back to the helicopter. You hesitate, before following him. The zombies have advanced further, and you doubt you'd be able to come back safely if you turned around now.
As you make your way to the helicopter, you see the garbage people, the ones that shot at the helicopter, approaching in the distance. They must have heard the gunfire and realized their prisoners got free.
"Well....crap. This is a problem," says Roger, his voice wavering. You look behind you; the zombies haven't caught up to you yet, but if you keep wasting time, they will. You might be able to make it back to the helicopter before interacting with the garbage people to get a gun or something.
> You go for the helicopter, get a gun
You realize you aren't getting out of this alive without a weapon, and run for the helicopter. The garbage people start to fire back, but that doesn't go to smoothly. Roger follows you into the cockpit, safe from the garbage people.
You scrounge around, and are rewarded with a small handgun with a full clip. Looking at the approaching horde, you realize the garbage people may not even be your biggest threat at the moment.
> You fire at the dead
The advancing hordes of zombies are closer and more plentiful, you decide. Plus, the garbage people will have to fight them off as well. You get into a defensive stance with both hands on the gun, and open fire on the horde. The gun's clip has thirteen bullets in it; you manage to kill six zombies before running dry.
"Here," says Roger, tapping you on the shoulder. "Found more of them." he gives you another fully loaded clip. "We had a bag stashed under the seat," Roger explains. "For emergency." You ditch the empty clip and reload, before taking another shot.
You bring down twelve walkers this time, and notice that the garbage people are firing at the dead, too. In a moment, they'll fall back, you can get your people, and leave. Except you can't. It slowly dawns on you that the helicopter's still dead on fuel.
Meanwhile (and unbeknownst to you), the garbage people realize they're wasting bullets on the zombies, and go to take out the real threat- you. The leader approaches the cockpit, out of your view. He sneaks right up to the door and kills you, without you ever knowing.
If it's any consolation, none of your group made it out, either.
| 5 |
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| 7 | false |
For the next few hours, the ride is uneventful Everyone is minding their own business, and the cabin is silent, except for the occasional noise from Ozzy, at the controls.
Before you know it, you're drifting off, and then it's a new day. You look out the window. The terrain has changed. You're no longer above a city of bodies, but empty roads, with only a few zombies lurking around. You're getting closer to Oregon, which means closer to the fuel issue. You don't want to think about when that time comes. Luckily, Roger takes your mind off it.
"Breakfast time," he says, fishing around for a backpack. The team searches out cans to make a meal out of, and that's when it becomes apparent that you're very low on food. Three cans left to split between five people, for another two days, and that's assuming the fuel thing goes smoothly, which you can guess it won't.
"We're gonna have to touch ground again," says Matthias. Nobody wants to admit it, but yes, you'll have to be at the same level as the dead once more. "Lower us down," Matthias says to Ozzy. "We need to run some errands."
Food is definitely easier to come across than helicopter fuel, but you're still worried. There's been plenty of time for every store and market to be emptied of all its goods. When the helicopter sets down and the engine dies down, you scan for a sign of food. The only promise is a road sign telling you fast food places nearby, and there isn't much opportunity there.
"Bingo," Conway suddenly says. He's spotted a farmhouse through the trees. "That's where we'll find what we're looking for." The group slowly goes to follow, but Roger stops.
"Wait. We need someone to stand at the helicopter and guard it," he says.
"I can do it," says Matthias. "Unless, anyone else would rather take the spot."
> You go with the group to raid the farmhouse
You let Matthias take over guard duty. Whatever you can do to speed things up, you will. Roger brings the rest of the group closer to the farmhouse.
"There's a strong possibility that someone's still alive in there, and they're surrounded by tall grass. Here's what we'll do. We split up, and approach the house from all sides. If you see someone in the window, fire at them. If you here gunshots from someone else, rush the house. The first person to get in the house needs to clear the ground floor, and we'll move from there. Clear?"
Everyone nods, and the plan commences. You get set on a straight path to the front door of the farmhouse, while the others spread out. The entire walk over, you listen intently for gunshots, or any sign of disturbance. It never comes, and suddenly you're at the front door. Remembering your instructions, you draw your gun and search the ground floor.
As it turns out, the house is abandoned. Searching the place top to bottom yields no humans. The fate of the owner is revealed when you check the basement: a lone corpse, hanging from a noose.
"He had such a good setup," comments Roger. "Wonder why he did it." But, of course, there's no time to wonder. Everyone spreads out to search the house again, this time for food. You continue in the basement.
The basement is actually quite empty, making you wonder if someone else cleaned the place out first. Just as you are about to give up, you see a message scrawled on a drywall. It looks like it could have been written with blood.
THEY TOOK EVERYTHING. I'M SORRY. IT'S NOT WORTH IT ANYMORE. THE WORLD IS ENDING, AND NOBODY WILL BE SAVED. BETTER TO DIE WITH DIGNITY THAN BE TORN APART BY THE ROTTERS.
You disagree, but respect the man's choice, and leave the basement. When you come back up, you see that the others were luckier.
On your way back, you look over the findings: several small wooden crates packed with cans, and some nonperishables. Not bad, and it's more than you'll need for five for a day.
"Any trouble?" Roger asks Matthias as you load the food up. "Yes, actually," Matthias responds. "One guy. But, he wasn't a problem. I'm fine."
| 4 |
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| 7 | false |
Thankfully, the seats of the helicopter are soft enough to lay on. As the sun sets, you lay down. The group agrees to taking two-hour shifts to watch for garbage people or zombies, and warn the others. You volunteer for a later spot, so you can get some rest.
The night drags on, safe but very boring. When you wake up for your shift, it's almost light outside.
"Hey!" you say. "Why didn't you guys wake me up?"
"It was my fault," says Ozzy. "I just took the whole night."
"You shouldn't have done that," exclaims Conway. "You have to fly this helicopter!"
"Uh, not any time soon," Ozzy says, gesturing out the window. It's true. The dead are meandering outside, not too interested in letting you get your fuel.
"Looks like some action needs to be taken," says Matthias. "So, what's plan B?"
> You get armed, and go outside to get the fuel
"We shouldn't wait anymore," you say. "Let's go out, and get the fuel." The others are hesitant, but Conway takes your side immediately.
"We know them," Conway says. "We know how they act, how they think. They won't move anywhere until they have reason to, and that could be days. We don't have the capacity to sit and burn off our food, and then try to fly back. Let's go, and let's go now."
After everyone has armed themselves, Conway opens the door. The first few zombies turn in your direction, but are quickly subdued by Roger. Roger's gun has a silencer, so he's the go-to shooter for the moment.
"The fuel is over there," Roger whispers, gesturing with his gun. "If we stay tight to the tree line, we might be able to sneak past them." The team nods, and rushes to follow the orders. The dead seem to dislike the closed-in trees, and have gravitated over to the fields. By staying among the trees, you have no issues. Almost.
As you travel, one curious zombie notices you, and starts to stir. Roger hesitates, and decides not to shoot.
"Just keep going," he whispers. As you walk, the zombie steps in close.
"What the hell are you doing?" demands Conway. "Shoot it!"
Roger shakes his head. "Not worth the bullet," he explains, but Conway won't hear it. He draws his gun, without a silencer, and points it at the zombie. You grab him.
"No! That's worse!" you whisper-yell. "You'll attract the whole field, and more!" Conway, of course, doesn't listen. He fires, and the zombie drops to the ground. Behind it, several heads slowly turn towards you, and you hear a low growl.
"Run," Roger says, not bothering to whisper. The team breaks into a panic, with people struggling to get past each other. Without the cover of silence, a few start to shoot at the zombies. It almost seems like you'll be able to keep them at bay.
"Come on!" Ozzy says. He leads the group in the direction of the fuel tanks. Unfortunately, a considerable portion of the zombies chose to stay back, and inhabit the empty lot. Now, you're sandwiched between two hordes, and you hear the familiar clicking of empty guns.
"I'm out," says Conway, furiously pumping the trigger.
"Same," Roger says in dismay. "Thanks a million, Conway."
The dead close in, and you look for a way out, a weak spot, a break in the horde, anything. But you don't see it. You go to grab for your knife, but the horde is too close. A set of jaws rips into your neck from behind.
| 3 |
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Despite your fear, you stay put. The pair of feet walks up to you, and you hear the top of the dumpster being opened. Then, it closes, and you hear a dissatisfied, "Nobody over here."
The people struggle to find any of your group, you scattered pretty quickly. As you hide, you make eye contact with Ozzy, who's hidden under an adjacent dumpster. You see fear in his eyes. He's slowly pulling a small gun out of his pocket, and holding eye contact with you.
"Well, well, well. Come out when you're ready, hooligans," the man who led you here says. The other group sits down in the middle of the parking lot, and begins to eat.
Ozzy slowly makes his way out from under the dumpster, out of sight of the others. You do the same. You sit behind the dumpster and think over your next move.
> You help Ozzy attack the group
You look at Ozzy, and point to the other group. He holds up his gun and nods.
You position yourself behind a dumpster, right next to the leader of the other group. You'll grab him and hold him hostage, so that the others will let you go. You wait until the right moment...
The man decides he needs to get up, and you strike. As soon as he's on his feet, he's on the ground again, with you holding him down. "Nobody move!" You yell.
Sadly, while your plan would have worked, Ozzy wasn't on the same page as you. He fires his gun in an attempt to hit the leader, but instead hits you in the chest, killing you.
| 4 |
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| 2 | false |
You've always kind of wondered what riding in a helicopter would be like. Now you know: boring, with a slight touch of fear of heights.
Finally, Ozzy makes a short announcement. "We're nearing the landing spot." Thank goodness. Suddenly, something starts beeping on the control board. "What's that?" asks Roger.
"We don't have enough to make it there," Ozzy says, with slight fear in his voice. "At this rate, we'll have to walk the last few miles to get to the gas stores, and then take them back on foo-"
Ozzy is interrupted by several metallic noises, like someone is dumping marbles onto the helicopter. "What in the.." says Roger. You look out the window, and are shocked to see a group of people firing at the helicopter.
"Making an emergency landing," says Ozzy. "Brace yourselves." Roger stares out the window in disbelief. "Why the hell are they shooting at us?"
To your surprise, the shooters break into a run and follow the helicopter on its course downward. "We're going to meet them when we land," you say. Matthias and Roger are already arming themselves. "Well then," says Roger. "Let's meet 'em."
When the helicopter plunks down, and the blades whir to a stop, the shooters are ready at the doors. A gravelly voice commands you to come out, unarmed.
"That'll be the day," says Roger. "We aren't doing anything of the sort. Actually, you're the ones who should be running. I'll give you five seconds. Five..."
Five is plenty for them. The shooters open fire, damaging the helicopter's window and hull. The soldiers quickly return fire, but the battle's pretty one-sided. The shooters definitely have the numbers, and the better guns.
"What do you want from us?" asks Roger. This is the first time you're getting a good look at the shooters. They look horrible, dressed in filthy clothing, with generally ugly faces. Not a single one is clean-shaven or looks like they've had a haircut even once.
"We want your 'copter," grunts one of the shooters. "We can't allow that," says Roger. "We're headed back to Washington. You should come, there are showers, and fresh food, and-"
"NO!" the shooter angrily kicks a rock. "We want the helicopter! And food! And books! And all of it! And guns! And snakes! And cell phones!"
The soldiers look at each other in disbelief. "These people have lost it," whispers Conway. Should you give up what you can, or try to diffuse the situation?
> You try to talk to them
"Hey," you say. "Listen. We can't afford to give anything up. Is there a possibility that we could work around this?"
The man holds up his finger, and draws something in the air. Then, he looks at you expectantly. When you don't know how to respond, the man becomes angry. He furiously draws some sort of picture in the air with his finger over and over again.
"What? What is it? What do you want?" you ask. The man finally gets fed up with your incompetence. "WAAATTTTEEERRR!!!!"
"We can't spare, um, any water at the moment," you say, almost afraid that he'll flip his lid. Instead, the man gets quiet. "Follow," he finally says, and begins to walk away.
| 2 |
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| 3 | false |
And just like that you're back to the cellar.
You're on your hands and knees, taking in sharp breaths, before you look back up at Lillith's ghostly figure. "W-what... What was that?"
"Have you ever considered that it could have been any one of us to see the quest through to the end? Do you think it wouldn't weigh on our souls watching our only surviving friend destroy themselves? Grace chose to fill the void by isolating herself from society. I cut the vision off before you could watch her go mad from the isolation and hang herself."
"So that's what would have happened... What about Henry and Thomas?"
"Them? Henry would have filled the void with alcohol and women until he died from the diseases he caught. Thomas would have filled the void by stealing everything from everyone until he was finally caught and hung for his crimes."
"What about you?" you ask after a moment.
"Myself? I would have looked for every way to bring you four back. It would have led me down a dark path. You don't want to see how that would have turned out."
There's a moment of silence as you contemplate what you just saw. Your... Friend, Grace, and the path she would have gone down if it was you who died that day. Lillith filled you in on what the others would have done.
That's when you realize something: they're hurting, watching you from the afterlife. Hurting enough that they sent Lillith down to try to get you to turn your life around. The question remains of what you'll do with this information.
> You won't change because the dead wish it.
You almost laugh. She wants you to bow to their wills and change yourself, for what? For their sake? They're dead. You're still standing. You heard Lilith out, but that doesn't mean you agree with her. You chose this path, and if it was one of the others they would have chosen their paths as well. To hell with what she thinks of your choices.
"Leave me, Lilith," you say.
Lilith's ghostly eyes widen in shock. "What?"
"Leave me. I don't want to hear this. I made my choices, I got myself into this situation. If you came here thinking you could change me, then you're wasting your time."
Her eyes harden as she stares at you. "I thought you were better than this, Kit."
You don't deign her with a response, or at least not one she can hear. Despite yourself, you find yourself muttering, "so did I" under your breath as you turn your back on her. A moment passes, and when you turn to see if she's still there, you find she's gone. A sigh escapes your lips as you walk to the door and ascend the stairs, back up to your room. Once there, you collapse into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.
In the morning Bertrand comes with your bread and wine. You take it, send him out of the room, and spend the rest of the day eating and drinking as you always have. The next day, Bertrand comes in the morning with the bread and wine, which you take and spend the rest of the day eating and drinking. It continues on for weeks without interruption, until one day, something changes.
You wake in the early morning hours to a yell. Your head is pounding and your stomach is killing you, but you push through and get out of bed. Stumbling out of your room, you see a man slumped against the wall: Bertrand. "Bertrand!" you shout, running to him. As you get closer, however, you notice the blood trailing down his neck. It flows freely from a fierce red slash across his throat. Bertrand is dead.
You look around, wondering who in the hell did this to your servant, when you feel a sharp pain in your arm. Looking, you find that a crossbow bolt has embedded itself into your bicep. "W-what the hell!?" you choke out. Another bolt flies true, hitting your thigh and causing you to fall to a kneel. Footsteps approach from your left, and you turn your head to look. What you see is a man, dressed in black. He approaches you, pulling out a dagger.
"Who are you?" you ask.
He simply sticks the dagger to your throat and cuts. As you fall to the ground, vision darkening and lungs filling with blood, he speaks: "The king sends his regards."
Then, all is silent.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 12 | false |
With a groan, you slip out of your velvet sheets and head to the door. For a moment, you reconsider your choice, but turn the knob and step into the dark hallway. The only light comes from the moon leaking in through closed windows, and you look around, listening for the voice.
"Kit..."
You catch a glimpse of a white figure down the hall, but it disappears before you can get a good look. Picking up the pace, you follow after it. The voice continues to call out to you, growing louder as you descend deeper into your manor.
"I need to see you, Kit..."
You continue to follow the voice until you reach the manor's wine cellar. When you open the door, you're greeted by a woman in white. Her brown hair falls past her shoulders and brushes against her hips. Her white dress flows freely, and around her neck she wears a holy symbol of Judeau, God of Life. Her skin is deathly pale and her green eyes bear holes into your own grey orbs. You know that face anywhere. It hasn't aged a day in twenty years.
"Lilith..."
For a moment fear grips you. You saw her die, that poison dart pierced her throat and she was done for. She was so out of breath she couldn't speak her incantations and heal herself. Yet still, she's standing here before you now, a specter of the past. "I thought you died," you say because you still can't believe she's here.
A smile graces her lips. "I did."
"You... You're dead. You're not real. I'm losing my mind..."
"I'm very real, Kit. Myself and the others have been watching over you, ever since that day. We thought you could pull yourself out of this..." She shakes her head, disapprovingly. "We thought you were better than this, Kit."
Despite the circumstances, you let out a dark chuckle. God, you need a drink. "Better than what? I didn't have much incentive to live after you all died. I didn't even want to go on that fucking adventure. It was Grace who roped us all into it."
"Yet you still went. Why was that?"
Great, now she's interrogating you. You really want that drink... "She was... You were all my friends. I wanted to..."
"Wanted to what, Kit?"
"I wanted to... DAMMIT!" You can't help it. You head to one of the shelved bottles, reaching for it.
"Don't."
Despite Lilith's warning, you grab hold of it, when a sudden burst of wind knocks you back. You crash against another shelf of wine bottles, shattering them from the sheer force of your impact. "W-what the Hell was that for!?"
"I don't want to talk to some drunkard, Kit. I want to talk to you."
Your anger flares. "Go back to whatever fuckin' afterlife you crawled out of! I don't want whatever you're selling me!" You pull yourself up and walk to the door.
"Kit. Listen to me."
You place a hand on the doorknob...
> You ... And swing the door open in a huff, leaving the room.
You reach for the door and open it. Lilith calls out to you, anger evident in her voice as she says, "I thought you were better than this, Kit!"
You don't deign her with a response, or at least not one she can hear. Despite yourself, you find yourself muttering, "so did I" under your breath. A moment passes, and when you turn to see if she's still there, you find she's gone. A sigh escapes your lips as you walk to the door and ascend the stairs, back up to your room. Once there, you collapse into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.
In the morning Bertrand comes with your bread and wine. You take it, send him out of the room, and spend the rest of the day eating and drinking as you always have. The next day, Bertrand comes in the morning with the bread and wine, which you take and spend the rest of the day eating and drinking. It continues on for weeks without interruption, until one day, something changes.
You wake in the early morning hours to a yell. Your head is pounding and your stomach is killing you, but you push through and get out of bed. Stumbling out of your room, you see a man slumped against the wall: Bertrand. "Bertrand!" you shout, running to him. As you get closer, however, you notice the blood trailing down his neck. It flows freely from a fierce red slash across his throat. Bertrand is dead.
You look around, wondering who in the hell did this to your servant, when you feel a sharp pain in your arm. Looking, you find that a crossbow bolt has embedded itself into your bicep. "W-what the hell!?" you choke out. Another bolt flies true, hitting your thigh and causing you to fall to a kneel. Footsteps approach from your left, and you turn your head to look. What you see is a man, dressed in black. He approaches you, pulling out a dagger.
"Who are you?" you ask.
He simply sticks the dagger to your throat and cuts. As you fall to the ground, vision darkening and lungs filling with blood, he speaks: "The king sends his regards."
Then, all is silent.
THE END
| 4 |
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| 11 | false |
This is getting irritating. You told Bertrand to turn anyone away, and the fact that he's ignoring your orders is starting to piss you off a bit. "Go on, Bertrand. Send them away, and don't come back until tomorrow. I don't wish to hear about fools coming to my door."
Bertrand releases a sigh, but nods. "Very well sir. I'll go tell them they're not wanted here." With those words, Bertrand turns and leaves the room. You expect him to come rushing back a few minutes later, but he doesn't. It seems the king's men listened to his demands.
Hours pass until finally, the sun has set and the sky is dark. You're about to head to bed, when you hear a faint voice calling your name out. It doesn't sound like it's someone in trouble, so it's probably nothing.
You lay down, and close your eyes...
"Kit..."
You keep your eyes clenched tight...
"Come to me..."
You grind your teeth together...
"I need to see you..."
> You bah, you don't have time for this. You're going to sleep.
You shake your head. You must be going mad to be hearing voices. It would be best not to look into it, for your own sanity if nothing else. You clench your eyes shut and throw a pillow over your head to block the voices out. Within minutes, you manage to doze off, falling into a fitful sleep full of nightmares.
In the morning, you begin to hear the voice again. It beckons for you to come to it, but you don't give in. You spend the day as you normally do, drinking wine and eating bread and passing out late into the night... But the voice does not stop.
This cycle continues for days, then weeks. You try to block the voice out but it keeps coming, and soon, it is joined by even more. Begging for you to come see them. When you resist, the voices continue, increasing in volume and barely contained rage.
One night you wake up in a cold sweat, greeted by the screeches of these specters haunting you. You're not sure how much more of this you can take.
> You need to escape, permanently. You reach for the dagger on your bedside.
You can't take it anymore, no matter how hard you try. You reach for the dagger on your bedside, kept there for emergencies that never came. Now, it'll finally see some use. Ripping open your nightshirt's sleeves, you press the dagger against your wrist. The voices cry out for you not to do it, but you don't listen.
You slash downward against your wrist, splitting your veins and an artery. Blood leaks freely from the wound. Then, you do the same with the second wrist, beginning to feel light-headed. The voices continue to screech horrifically. It hurts your head to listen to, and combined with the blood loss makes your dizziness worse.
"You won't take me, you bastards!" you scream out at them, voice hoarse. With what little strength you have left, you pull your head back with one hand. With the other hand, you place the dagger against your throat and take a deep breath. Then, you slash. Darkness overtakes you.
Finally, there is silence.
THE END
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
You shake your head. You must be going mad to be hearing voices. It would be best not to look into it, for your own sanity if nothing else. You clench your eyes shut and throw a pillow over your head to block the voices out. Within minutes, you manage to doze off, falling into a fitful sleep full of nightmares.
In the morning, you begin to hear the voice again. It beckons for you to come to it, but you don't give in. You spend the day as you normally do, drinking wine and eating bread and passing out late into the night... But the voice does not stop.
This cycle continues for days, then weeks. You try to block the voice out but it keeps coming, and soon, it is joined by even more. Begging for you to come see them. When you resist, the voices continue, increasing in volume and barely contained rage.
One night you wake up in a cold sweat, greeted by the screeches of these specters haunting you. You're not sure how much more of this you can take.
> No. You won't take the easy way out. You'll hold out, as long as it takes.
You shout, "Leave me alone!" The voices continue despite your protests, and you find yourself unsure if you truly can continue like this... The dagger is awfully tempting...
No. You won't bow to their whims. Gritting your teeth, you hop out of bed and begin to yell as loud as you can, "LEAVE ME! I WON'T GIVE INTO THE LIKES OF YOU!" Still, the voices do not stop their incessant screeching. So, you scream back louder.
You're not sure how long the back and forth screaming goes on for. All you know is that before long, you stop yelling and begin to laugh maniacally. The voices quiet this way, but you're not sure for how long. Have you gone mad? Or is this working? Then again, who's to say it isn't both?
> You keep laughing! This is working! You can feel yourself slipping away, away from them and all your problems!
It's working! The voices are getting quieter! You laugh, and laugh, and laugh away! You continue laughing until you can hear nothing but the laughter! Then you laugh even more! It's all you need! Now there is nothing in the world except you, and your laughter!
Bertrand finds you the next morning, curled up in a fetal position and laughing. Tears stream from your eyes, and every now and again you let out a wheeze from lack of breath. He stares at you, horrified, before pulling you up and carrying you out. He sends for a sage from the next town over to look into your sudden onset of uncontrollable laughter.
When the sage arrives at midday, he takes one look at the giggling wreck that you are and shakes his head. Still, he sets to work trying to get you to respond. You simply laugh at him. After an hour, he admits defeat. "He's gone mad," the sage says. "There's nothing I can do."
He binds you with rope and drags you into his wagon, taking you into the town. There, he admits you into an asylum, while you continue to chuckle without end. The staff beats you in an attempt to get you to stop; it does not work. Eventually, they cut out your tongue, but you let out breathless wheezes that sound like laughter nonetheless.
Finally, one morning, a worker at the asylum grows irritated with your laughing. In the middle of the night, he enters your room and slits your throat. In his dreams, he can hear you laughing mad, without end...
THE END
| 4 |
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| 6 | false |
Stubborn, aren't you? Took you long enough to make the right choice. Oh well, it doesn't matter. The point is you're here now, and I'm about to round out this ludicrous fourth wall break path.
Hey Kit.
You look around. This voice is... Different. It doesn't sound like anyone you know. "W-who are you?"
I'm the man who created you.
This causes you to jerk back. "What? You can't be! You're lying! Just leave me alone!"
I'm feeding you these words. This isn't a conversation between two people. This is me trying out an artistic experiment. People are going to rate me a 1 if they find this wannabe avant-garde bullshit path.
"You can't be telling the truth! I'm real! I'm as real as any man!" He can't be telling the truth. You're a real person. This is getting to you too much.
I'm not sure why you're in denial, Kit. In fact, I'm not sure why I'm writing you as in denial of this. I can make you do anything. I can make you dance if I want. Though I suppose that would fit better in a visual medium.
As if on command, you begin to hop up and down and wiggle around. It's a very entertaining sight, and the writer has stopped bothering with italicizing your actions. Because you know the truth, Kit. I created you. I can end you. I can take things back. Have you gone insane? That's for me and the reader to decide.
"What did you do to me?"
I got a prompt and I figured I could take this path in an interesting way. I was having trouble with this specific part of it. I remembered a comic I read once, Grant Morrison's Animal Man. It ended in a similar manner to this path: author and creation meeting each other. It touched me in a way I don't think any other story has, yet.
"You created me?"
Yeah, Kit. You're a figment of my imagination. If I want, I can hit delete on this story right now and you'd be gone forever. Just a shadow of what could have been in my mind. I've come close to wiping this story a few times. I wasn't sure I could ever complete it. I'm not sure if I ever wanted to. Writing this story has taught me a lot and I feel like once I finish it, I won't be learning anymore.
"Everything that happened to me... You did that?"
Yes, Kit. Your friends, they're not real. They're playthings. I've written a handful of lines for each of them. The only one that got any semblance of characterization was Lilith, the priest girl. Did you know that I went into this story without a name for any of them? I went into this story without a name for you, too. You were going to be Victor, once.
"What are you saying? Can't you turn everything back?"
Sure I can Kit, but it would be hollow. I'd go back to writing a story instead of rambling on incoherently, and it would end right as it got to the good part. That's how this entire story has gone; I have an idea, I write a few pages for it, I get bored, then I cut it off before it branches out too much. There's so many things in here that could make a full game, yet I only dedicate a handful of pages to those stories.
"Why can't you just stop that, then? Make everything as long as it needs to? Why couldn't you make a story about myself and my friends, let us choose our fates, let the reader choose our fates?"
Because that wasn't the story I wanted to tell. I wanted to be "edgy". I wanted to be "realistic". Cursing, and drinking, and violence, and a broken protagonist. You were never a hero, Kit. In fact, I could say that you killed countless men and women, and no one would bat an eye. They'd want to play as you more, if anything. The people here are drawn to villains.
"What the hell do you want from me?"
Me? I don't know. I'm writing this because I'm bored. Later I'm probably going to eat breakfast and pass out. Maybe watch a movie. Go for a walk. Something. But right now, it's me, and you, and the reader. I haven't forgotten you, reader. Why don't you exercise your "free will" and decide how this story ends for me, huh?
> You fuck you. You don't have to do this. You can close this game right now if you want. You don't even have to click this choice. You can't make you do anything.
If you really felt that way, you wouldn't have clicked the choice.
Now take your end game link and get out of here.
| 4 |
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| 6 | false |
You snap yourself back to reality, before you can lose yourself to the madness. Truly, you must be losing your mind. No sane man would break into a fit of laughter like you did, let alone hear voices calling to him in the dead of night. Your mind reaches for answers as to what the hell is going on, but it is met by silence.
There is something hanging over you, however. Some sort of entity guiding your actions, predetermining your paths and setting you on one or the other. You can feel the mouse hovering over you, watching, waiting for that next blue hyperlink to show up. I wonder if they're reading this. And if they are, I wonder what their thoughts are on what I'm writing. I'm going on a tangent. You probably think I'm just trying to cash in on the success some people had in 'connecting' with the reader in their own stories, don't you? The truth is, I don't know why this page turned out like it did.
Do you think the people reading this will ever find this path? Maybe they're skimming over all these words, trying to find an end game link. Maybe they're completionists and are trying to find every ending. The odds of this being the first path that a player finds is slim. There's other, more exciting paths out there, aren't there? So many different paths this story could have taken and they choose the stay at home and go nuts path first? I doubt it.
I don't know you, reader. I only know what I've written. I'm sure right now you're rolling your eyes, thinking that I'm just some pretentious teenager writing whatever dribble comes to mind. If I wrote whatever came to mind and didn't carefully reread and edit, this whole page would be riddle with typos and keyboard mashing. You don't know me in the same way I don't know you.
But this isn't about me or you or this website. This is about Kit and his descent into madness that you could have prevented. He's probably scared. I could just as easily write around this, pretend that this whole tirade didn't even happen. He can go back to being confused and going mad and trying to block out the voices. I think it's your choice, reader.
Just remember: every choice you make I wrote out for you. You have no control, but I guess that's just the edgelord in me getting out. Go on. Make a choice. Choose how this path ends.
> You but this did happen. You want Kit to know.
So you picked this on your first try? Maybe you just used the actual go back button instead of the one I gave you on either of those two choices. Oh well, it doesn't matter. The point is you're here now, and I'm about to round out this ludicrous fourth wall break path.
Hey Kit.
You look around. This voice is... Different. It doesn't sound like anyone you know. "W-who are you?"
I'm the man who created you.
This causes you to jerk back. "What? You can't be! You're lying! Just leave me alone!"
I'm feeding you these words. This isn't a conversation between two people. This is me trying out an artistic experiment. People are going to rate me a 1 if they find this wannabe avant-garde bullshit path.
"You can't be telling the truth! I'm real! I'm as real as any man!" He can't be telling the truth. You're a real person. This is getting to you too much.
I'm not sure why you're in denial, Kit. In fact, I'm not sure why I'm writing you as in denial of this. I can make you do anything. I can make you dance if I want. Though I suppose that would fit better in a visual medium.
As if on command, you begin to hop up and down and wiggle around. It's a very entertaining sight, and the writer has stopped bothering with italicizing your actions. Because you know the truth, Kit. I created you. I can end you. I can take things back. Have you gone insane? That's for me and the reader to decide.
"What did you do to me?"
I got a prompt and I figured I could take this path in an interesting way. I was having trouble with this specific part of it. I remembered a comic I read once, Grant Morrison's Animal Man. It ended in a similar manner to this path: author and creation meeting each other. It touched me in a way I don't think any other story has, yet.
"You created me?"
Yeah, Kit. You're a figment of my imagination. If I want, I can hit delete on this story right now and you'd be gone forever. Just a shadow of what could have been in my mind. I've come close to wiping this story a few times. I wasn't sure I could ever complete it. I'm not sure if I ever wanted to. Writing this story has taught me a lot and I feel like once I finish it, I won't be learning anymore.
"Everything that happened to me... You did that?"
Yes, Kit. Your friends, they're not real. They're playthings. I've written a handful of lines for each of them. The only one that got any semblance of characterization was Lilith, the priest girl. Did you know that I went into this story without a name for any of them? I went into this story without a name for you, too. You were going to be Victor, once.
"What are you saying? Can't you turn everything back?"
Sure I can Kit, but it would be hollow. I'd go back to writing a story instead of rambling on incoherently, and it would end right as it got to the good part. That's how this entire story has gone; I have an idea, I write a few pages for it, I get bored, then I cut it off before it branches out too much. There's so many things in here that could make a full game, yet I only dedicate a handful of pages to those stories.
"Why can't you just stop that, then? Make everything as long as it needs to? Why couldn't you make a story about myself and my friends, let us choose our fates, let the reader choose our fates?"
Because that wasn't the story I wanted to tell. I wanted to be "edgy". I wanted to be "realistic". Cursing, and drinking, and violence, and a broken protagonist. You were never a hero, Kit. In fact, I could say that you killed countless men and women, and no one would bat an eye. They'd want to play as you more, if anything. The people here are drawn to villains.
"What the hell do you want from me?"
Me? I don't know. I'm writing this because I'm bored. Later I'm probably going to eat breakfast and pass out. Maybe watch a movie. Go for a walk. Something. But right now, it's me, and you, and the reader. I haven't forgotten you, reader. Why don't you exercise your "free will" and decide how this story ends for me, huh?
| 3 |
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| 11 | false |
By the end of 1793 there are just thirteen men who survived the boat journey to Coupang in England, including you. Of these you have lost contact with Gunner William Peckover, Clerk John Samuel and Captain’s Servant John Smith. You know some of your former companions have had enough and want to retire from the sea but most are happy to keep serving. You must make your choice.
> You find another ship
You decide to resume service at sea and look about for whom to serve. William Bligh is now Captain of the HMS Calcutta, you could serve with him. Sailing Master John Fryer is now serving with the HMS Britannia. Lieutenant John Hallett is with the HMS Penelope. Lieutenant Thomas Haywood is the Lieutenant Commanding of the sloop HMS Swift. Lieutenant Robert Tinkler is aboard the HMS Isis. Sailmaker Lawrence LeBogue is serving aboard the HMS Jason. You can choose who to follow.
> You captain William Bligh
You join William Bligh and serve with him for the next twenty years. You are with him at the Battle of Camperdown in 1797 and fight for him under Nelson at the Battle of Copenhagen in 1801. In 1805 you accompany him to Australia to rule as Governor and stick with him when he is deposed in yet another mutiny, a Rum Rebellion in 1808 in which he is imprisoned for two years before returning to England. He is cleared of blame once more, serves at sea for three more years before retiring, a Vice Admiral. He dies in 1817 at the age of 63.
You live on, well into your sixties and in your later years you finally learn what happened to the Bounty and its missing nine Mutineers, including Fletcher Christian. In 1808 an American ship, the Topaz, happens upon isolated Pitcairn Island. There the sailors are astonished to discover a thriving Tahitian Community ruled over by one man: John Adams. He is the sole survivor of the nine Mutineers and six Natives who landed on that island and variously killed each other or died of illness leaving Adams patriarch of a thriving community of forty-six people. The Admiralty decides against taking any action.
John Adams, the King of Pitcairn Island, dies in 1829.
| 4 |
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| 3 | false |
You decide to resume service at sea and look about for whom to serve. William Bligh is now Captain of the HMS Calcutta, you could serve with him. Sailing Master John Fryer is now serving with the HMS Britannia. Lieutenant John Hallett is with the HMS Penelope. Lieutenant Thomas Haywood is the Lieutenant Commanding of the sloop HMS Swift. Lieutenant Robert Tinkler is aboard the HMS Isis. Sailmaker Lawrence LeBogue is serving aboard the HMS Jason. You can choose who to follow.
> You sailing Master John Fryer
You join John Fryer and serve with him for the next eighteen years. You are with him under Nelson at the Battle of Copenhagen in 1801. He rises to become one of the foremost Sailing Masters in the Royal Navy before retiring in 1812 and dying five years later at the age of 63. You retire from the sea soon after.
You live on, well into your sixties and in your later years you finally learn what happened to the Bounty and its missing nine Mutineers, including Fletcher Christian. In 1808 an American ship, the Topaz, happens upon isolated Pitcairn Island. There the sailors are astonished to discover a thriving Tahitian Community ruled over by one man: John Adams. He is the sole survivor of the nine Mutineers and six Natives who landed on that island and variously killed each other or died of illness leaving Adams patriarch of a thriving community of forty-six people. The Admiralty decides against taking any action.
John Adams, the King of Pitcairn Island, dies in 1829.
| 3 |
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| 1 | false |
You decide to resume service at sea and look about for whom to serve. William Bligh is now Captain of the HMS Calcutta, you could serve with him. Sailing Master John Fryer is now serving with the HMS Britannia. Lieutenant John Hallett is with the HMS Penelope. Lieutenant Thomas Haywood is the Lieutenant Commanding of the sloop HMS Swift. Lieutenant Robert Tinkler is aboard the HMS Isis. Sailmaker Lawrence LeBogue is serving aboard the HMS Jason. You can choose who to follow.
> You lieutenant John Hallett
You join Lieutenant John Hallett aboard the HMS Penelope but unfortunately neither of you are destined for a long career. You continue to suffer from malaria you became infected with during your voyage and your health worsens. Despite the fact you are both in your early twenties it quickly becomes apparent it is fatal. The two of you journey to Hallett’s home in Bedford where you succumb to your illness.
| 3 |
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}
| 1 | false |
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