text: [Themes: grimdark fantasy, fantasy]
  
  You jog over, and run your sword through the Mage. The enemy of your enemy is definitely not your friend today. The Mage falls next you, blood dripping out. You hear footsteps running towards you from behind.
  
  > roll out of the way
  You roll out of the way, dodging a sword slash. You stand, running your sword through the side of the soldier and killing him instantly. You pull out your blade, watching him slump to the ground. You watch as the undead massacre the last of the soldiers. Blaise walks among the carnage, her black robes stained with a deep red blood.
  
  "Life, Death, Rebirth," she says as a soldier stands, picking up its sword with a growl. "Kind of poetic."
  
  "Rebirth? The soul's are gone. There's no rebirth here," you say.
  
  "Life, Death, your corpse is stolen to be made fight someone's battle isn't as catchy," Blaise says. "Now, let's go find some dragon bones, shall we?"
  
  > investigate about the location of the Mother of Dragons
  Time to investigate!
  
  > interrogate the Mages
  You walk over to the mages. Most were accidently killed in the melee, but two remain.
  
  "Please, help me. I don't want to die here," one begs.
  
  "Who are you?" you ask.
  
  "I'm..."
  
  "Don't say a word!" the second mage says.
  
  You quickly behead the second mage.
  
  "Go on."
  
  "I... I'm Declan. I was a Bard from a town when they taught me Illusions. I didn't want anyone to get hurt."
  
  "Good. Then tell me about Magna Gene Draco."
  
  "What?" Declan asks, confused.
  
  "Magna Gene Draco, or the Mother of Dragons."
  
  "I don't know. Maybe the other mages had something by their campfire, near the bedrolls."
  
  You nod.
  
  Time to investigate!
  
  > search for clues among the Mage Camp
  You search the Mages Camp. An initial search brings up nothing, but you manage to find a small black book under a bedroll. You open it, to find a journal entry.
  
  Day 64
  
  We found it. We finally found it! We were ordered to secure the area by Declan, and we dragged the body into a nearby cave, just South of here, obscured by some rocks and reeds we put out. Fuck, it took a lot of effort, even with magic. It'd be a lot easier if we had our Mercenary Escorts, but fuckin' Declan had to sacrifice them to some demon he owed. Once we find a Necromancer, I'm bashing that young fucker's head in. I'm not being bossed around by some kid.
  
  You fold up the piece of paper, and call Blaise over.
  
  "Come on. Which ways South?"
  
  Blaise rolls her eyes, and begins marching down the valley. You follow, searching, until you notice several rocks and piled up dried weeds partially obscuring a large cave mouth. You push the rocks out of the way and throw the reeds out of the way.
  
  "Do you have a torch?" you ask.
  
  Blaise shakes her head, before flicking her fingers. A small candle light bursts into fire in her palm, before growing to a large size.
  
  "You can do fire magic now?" you ask in surprise
  
  "I mean, I wouldn't say I'm good at it. I've mastered candlelight, and that's it. I'm barely able to maintain this."
  
  You shrug, and begin walking down the cave. Massive gouges line the stone walls, and ash lies around the mouth, faintly blowing in the breeze. You walk further, until eventually you notice flashes of bone among the dirt. You brushes off the dirt, and are faced with a massive dragon skeleton.. It's head is the size of a large horse, its teeth long and deadly sharp like short swords and daggers. It body is larger than the average dragon, it's wings still holding the unrotting, leathery membrane that gave it flight.
  
  "So... what do you think?" Blaise asks.
  
  "It's... smaller than I imagined."
  
  "It's beautiful," Blaise says in awe. "It's one of the most beautiful creatures I've ever seen."
  
  You shrug.
  
  "I suppose. We'll get more. Soon we'll have a whole army of skeletal dragons."
  
  Blaise grins, and sits by the dragon head, closing hey eyes and putting a hand on its forehead.
  
  "This might take some time, If I were you, I'd take a nap," Blaise says.
  
  Blaise walks over and pulls out a healing potion from the many hidden pockets in her robes, and gives it to you.
  
  "Thanks," you grunt, downing the sweet mixture.
  
  You have to admit, after the fighting and travel, you're quite tired. You bandage your wounds and collapse onto the ground, cushioning your head on a rock.
  
  > embrace Sleep
  You embrace sleep. Dreams overtake you, until you're awoken by a fearsome roar. You jump up, grabbing your long sword, only to be faced with the dragon's endless rows of teeth of a dragon.
  
  "Pretty cool, isn't she?" Blaise asks.
  
  You look up, to see Blaise sitting on her back.
  
  "It's cool, right? I need to have a saddle made for it, but after that, it'll add dragon rider to my resume."
  
  "Can I ride it?"
  
  "No, Dag. It's not a toy. Nah, I'm just kidding."
  
  You slowly approach the creature, going to the side. You use the dragon's ribs to pull yourself up onto its back. You scoot up next to Blaise, and the Dragon begins to stomp along the cave. It enters the mouth and walks out, roaring towards the sky. The undead look up in... not amazement disappointingly, because most aren't sentient, but the two Revenants and Flesh Monstrosities look pretty impressed. The Dragon roars again, and begins to flap its wings.
  
  "Are you sure this can fly?"
  
  "Of course not. But there's worse ways to die than trying to fly."
  
  The Dragons wings begin to give it lift, and it begins to fly into the air. You yell and desperately clutch onto the dragon's bones and hold on tightly, shutting your eyes.
  
  "Whoa! Look how high we are!" Blaise says.
  
  You somehow clench your eyes shut more.
  
  "This is the most scared I've ever seen you, except that time with Mort" Blaise grins.
  
  "I'm an Orc. I'm meant to fight, kill, conquer, fuck, eat, sleep, drink and boast, and then some more fighting. We're not meant to fly."
  
  "Huh. I'd imagine a Dwarf would be terrified of this, but not an Orc."
  
  "Put me down!"
  
  Blaise sighs audibly, and you feel the dragon begin to lower itself. When you feel the thud of its claws closing onto the thick soil, you clamber off and leap onto the ground, kissing the dirt.
  
  "I'm never leaving you again, beautiful, beautiful earth."
  
  "You're not going flying again?" Blaise teases. "We could fly home."
  
  You respond to this by firing a stream of vomit onto the front of her robes.
  
  > Five Weeks Later...
  You stand at the walls of Reaper Castle, looking out at an army of undead. Hundreds of Undead stand, with more defending or garrisoned at the many towns joining the new Dead Empire. Several Revenants stand at the front of the army. Five Flesh Monstrosities stand among the crowd, with a massive dragon standing tall above them.
  
  "I am feeling so powerful right now. power really does corrupt. What do most insane dictators do?" Blaise asks happily.
  
  "Wipe out civilians? Burn orphanages?" you suggest.
  
  "Nah, that's boring. Let's start splurging some of this wealth. Redecorate this place, bring in some fancy wines, conquer a few nations. That sounds nice."
  
  "I could do with some killing. When Orcs get their conquest, they plant a cranberry tree in commeration."
  
  "That''s not true. You just want to plant a cranberry tree, right?"
  
  "If I tell you the truth will my honesty be rewarded with a Cranberry Tree?"
  
  "Sure."
  
  "Then yes, quite obviously I was lying. Let's plant ten trees. No, twenty. No, all the trees. Let's plant all the trees."
  
  "I'll get you as many Cranberries as you can eat."
  
  "You're either lying, or confused about how many cranberries I'm able to eat. More than my own body weight in one sitting."
  
  Blaise smiles.
  
  "If we keep expanding at the rate we are, I'll be able to get you every cranberry tree in existence."
  
  You look out to the army of dead, and think maybe she's right.
  
  > The Next Day...
  You sit on a skeletal horse, heading towards Jarrow once more for the Festival of the Reaper.
  
  "So... will there be food at this festival."
  
  "Yeah, I guess so. It's not one of the classic drink and eat festivals."
  
  "Then it's a shitty festival."
  
  "It was started by my dad. Anyone with powers in Necromancy from across the Dead Empire..."
  
  "Which is still pretty small."
  
  "...will gather in the town square to be judged. The Grand Necromancer will then pick which to take on as apprentices."
  
  "Will there be a lot of people?"
  
  "Most people with Necromantic powers were executed by the Alliance. Most people here will be children who've just discovered their powers."
  
  You shrug.
  
  "I hate kids."
  
  "You said you wanted kids the other day?"
  
  "I hate other people's kids."
  
  You watch as the town approaches. Solid black banners drape from buildings, showing the Dragon Skull Sigil of the Dead Empire, which Blaise recently chose. Dozens of camps are set up around the town, packed with endless amounts of villagers coming from across the land to have their kids judged. You approach the town square, where massive huddles of children and teenagers sit.
  
  "Try to to scare the kids, Dag."
  
  "We're teaching them to conquer death. They can't afford to be scared of me. If they are, they aren't ready."
  
  "You look like a crazy motherfucker, Dag. I'm half-scared of you."
  
  You touch your face and a small amount of the white face paint that's painted your face into that of a leering skull comes off.
  
  "I'm in facepaint."
  
  "It's not facepaint. It's... war paint. Don't Orcs wear warpaint?"
  
  "It's usually blood, not chalk."
  
  "Well, skull's aren't red."
  
  You look down at the young faces of the children, seeing mixtures of awe and terror as you both approach. The children seem to be between six and sixteen years of age.
  
  "Are there none older?" you ask in surprise.
  
  "All the older ones were killed, imprisoned or fled the area. I don't they'd come back after nearlhy dying in service of the last necromancer."
  
  You stare at the children. Most are human, but a surprising number are Elves. Very few are Dwarves and Orcs, but that's to be expected. You didn't expect to see a lot of greenskin representation here.
  
  "Greetings, Grand Necromancer," a voice cries.
  
  You turn to see that Lady Eli is back. She's looking a lot more friendly now that you're in charge of her town.
  
  "Hello, Lady Eli," Blaise says.
  
  You stare briefly at Lady Eli, before going back to the children.
  
  "Ladies and Gentlemen, I am the Grand Necromancer. I have come here to decide which of you will join me as Necromancers," Blaise announces me. "I will decide which of you, if willing, are to under go the journey to mastery over death."
  
  "You will each be given an obsidian blade, and will fight to the death. The winners shall be allowed to become Necromancers," you shout, and many of the children begin to panic.
  
  "He's joking!" Blaise shouts. "You said you wouldn't scare them."
  
  "I said I wouldn't kill them. That's it."
  
  Blaise rolls her eyes.
  
  "We're only taking those over twelve, the strongest we can find. I'll pick out the best ones I can find, and you go through those and do a... psychological profile. Ween out the cowards and weaklings."
  
  You nod, dismounting from your horse. Some villager hands you a goblet of purple liquid, which you eagerly down. To your relief, it's alcohol rather than poison, which you probably should've checked for beforehand. You watch as Blaise first sends away the young children, then those whose necromantic potential isn't good enough or ready yet. Finally, you're left with twenty kids. Six are around your age or a bit younger, with eight being just into their teens, and a final six who have barely passed Blaise's set age limit. Most are humans, with a few exceptions; there's a Wood and High Elf who are both barely passing the age limit, an Orc slightly younger than you, a High Elf that's your age and two Dark Elves just into their teens as well as one your age. You walk forward, grinning. Time to sort out the weak from the strong.
  
  "Alright, I am General Dagden Dragontooth, General under the Dead Empire, Bearsbane, Red Blade, Survivor of the Fall of Reaper Castle, Envoy of the Grand Necromancer, Blood Mage and soon to be, Child Killer. I'm here to kill the weakest of you so there's more food for the strong, got it? If at any point you want to leave, the door's open. If you die, your families will be compensated. So, which of you are going to Choose Life and fuck off?"
  
  One old kid, two young teens and surprisingly, only one small kid leave.
  
  "Good. Those were the smart ones," you say. "Now, as per Necromancer tradition, we're going to need a bit of a sacrifice for the next part. If you've noticed, most famous Necromancer's are missing their left ring finger."
  
  "The Grand Necromancer has all of her fingers," the young High Elf girl points out.
  
  "We had to flee before the Grand Necromancer. I'm impressed you notice, so you can keep yours. Everyone else, line up."
  
  You manage to scare off another three kids, bringing the total down to thirteen. You draw your dagger, and are faced with the tiny Wood Elf boy. He has short, combed brown hair and bright green eyes. You doubt he's much older than eight.
  
  "How old are you, kid?"
  
  "Twelve."
  
  "You look fucking six."
  
  The Wood Elf shrugs, holding out his left hand. You have to admit, he has balls. You draw your bone dagger, holding it to the Wood Elf's ring finger. He doesn't flinch.
  
  "Fuck it, kid. You've got a pair on you, you know that?"
  
  "A pair of what?"
  
  You roll your eyes with a snicker at his naivety.
  
  "Go stand with the other Elf. You can keep your finger."
  
  The Wood Elf smiles and happily bounds off. You're then faced with a tall girl around your age.
  
  "I don't believe you're going to cut off our fingers. You're just trying to scare us."
  
  OK, she called your bluff. Time to act fast.
  
  > admit she's right
  "Fine, kid. I'm not going to," you admit, to the relief of the children.
  
  She smiles annoyingly, and you have an idea.
  
  "I have one last test. To symbolize your bond with death, you're each going to make your own coffin."
  
  The children nod, clearly confused, as your dark plan begins.
  
  > Four Hours Later...
  You underestimated how long it would take children to make coffins. It takes four hours, but eventually you have the remaining twelve children standing in front of you, shitty coffins made from planks of wood by their side. You notice one of them has a flower on it, and another has a symbol of the True Power. These kids probably aren't prepared for this. A dozen shovels lie in front of you.
  
  "Now, you will each pick up a shovel, and dig a grave," you say loudly.
  
  The children oblige, and quickly begin digging. They dig surprisingly quickly, better laborers than carpenters, it seems. After another hour, they're finished. You slowly push each coffin into the hole, and stare at the children.
  
  "Now, climb inside."
  
  "What?" one of the kids asks, surprised.
  
  "Get in the coffin, and close it. I'm burying you all here."
  
  "We'll suffocate!"
  
  "Maybe," you reply.
  
  "I'm not doing that," one says.
  
  "Yeah," another agrees.
  
  "I'm not dying here," a third says.
  
  You hear a thud, and turn to see the young Wood Elf lying in his coffin. You gently close the lid, thoroughly impressed, and call over your two undead guards to begin filling the hole.
  
  "Anyone else?"
  
  Another child lowers themselves into the coffin, then another. Eventually, nine graves are filled. As the last one is filled, you see Blaise coming over.
  
  "What's going on?" she asks.
  
  "I'm turning your necromancers into strong men and women."
  
  "Where are they?"
  
  You point to the graves, and Blaise stares at you.
  
  "Are... are you joking?"
  
  "No."
  
  "You... buried them alive?"
  
  "Yeah."
  
  "I don't have any words to explain how stupid that is. We're digging them up."
  
  "Relax, the coffins are all airtight, and should have enough air for long enough."
  
  "How long are you leaving them down here?"
  
  You shrug. You sit on the ground, staring at the setting sun. You continue staring at the clouds for quite some time, before you order the undead to start digging. You pull up the coffins, and open them. The Wood Elf lies sleeping in his coffin, snoring softly. The young High Elf Girl lies terrified in her coffin and eagerly clambers out. The older High Elf Girl jumps out at the first chance, as does the Orc. The rest clamber out quickly, leaving nine children in front of you.
  
  "We were down there forever!" one complains loudly. "You're crazy, I'm leaving."
  
  Another child follows him, leaving seven children.
  
  "Alright, you passed the tests. Names?"
  
  "Thorn," the Wood Elf mumbles sleepily.
  
  "Creed," a human boy says.
  
  "Val," the older High Ef girl says.
  
  "Tasha," the younger High Elf girl says.
  
  "Ruk," the Orc says.
  
  "Sten," one of the humans say.
  
  "Lilly," one of the humans say.
  
  "Lalva," one of the humans say.
  
  "You are all now Apprentice Necromancers. Your training will be taken on by the Grand Necromancer. My work here's done." you say.
  
  You stare at the Necromancers, wondering what will become of them.
  
  > Two Days Later...
  You sit in the War Room with the advisors. Kai is devouring some raw rabbit meat, Sir Trent is looking over a map, Mr Nilvos seems to be preparing a potion that reeks of torment and despair, and Soren/Malign pace the room, fighting for control.
  
  "So, anyone else seen those kids in the classrooms? They're fucking weird. Playing with the dead and shit. Why do we have kids here?" Kai asks.
  
  "They're the new apprentices," you grunt.
  
  Blaise appears in the doorway with two undead guards in tow.
  
  "What's the plan, Blaise?" you ask.
  
  "There's been a raid against Haversham by Dwarves."
  
  "Dwarves? I haven't killed Dwarves in a while."
  
  "Well, you're about to. The Dwarves came from Gildhammer."
  
  "Is that a place?"
  
  "Yes, it's a Dwarven town in the mountains not too far from Haversham. Striking there would not only be revenge against the Dwarves and dissuade future attacks, but it's of military importance, and it holds the Tombs of Gyrntherim."
  
  "Should I know what that is?"
  
  "It's the tombs that hold the bodies of heroes and adventurers who killed the Dwarven Warlord Kramon the Buried. I've looked into their pasts, and I think if I raise a few of them as Revenants, they'll support me. The rest can be just powerful zombies. Make sure you bring those to be made to Revenants back to me."
  
  You nod.
  
  "I'll lead a war party up North, then."
  
  "Take two of the Necromancers, the best ones. I want to give them some combat experience."
  
  "Are they ready?"
  
  "Val is as old as you are and has already been practicing Necromancy for some time. Thorn is a cold-blooded psychopath, and quite powerful."
  
  "He's twelve."
  
  "You were around that age when you tried to get me a dragon tooth."
  
  "Fine. I'll take them."
  
  Blaise smiles at you, and you know you're going to regret this.
  
  > One Week Later...
  You walk up the mountain, a wave of dead following you. Thorn and Val. They both wear black robes that are too big for them, with Val's golden straight hair bond in a ponytail.
  
  "I never expected to be leading an army of undead with two elves when I was a boy," you say.
  
  "I always expected to be killing stuff," Thorn says.
  
  "Well, your parents named you Thorn, and you're all a bunch of tree-humpers, so they probably thought you were a violent kid."
  
  "My name's Thahragaer."
  
  "That's genuinely the shittiest name I've ever heard."
  
  "That's why I took the name Thorn," Thorn shrugs. "Your parent's name you after something?"
  
  "Fuck, I don't think so. Daggers, maybe. What about you, Youngblood?"
  
  "I'm as old as you," Val complains.
  
  "You didn't do anything worth naming. Hence, you're Youngblood. Orc blood's aged with actions, not time. Fuck, most great Orcs didn't pass 30," you say, walking up the mountain slowly, trudging through muck and what appears to be feces.
  
  "I've seen, like, a dozen goats in the past half hour. How the fuck does a dozen goats shit this much. There's like a foot of goat shit over every inch of this ground," you complain loudly. "How long to the Dwarf killing?"
  
  "I've looked at the maps. It should be another ten minutes," Val says.
  
  "What's killing like?" Thorn asks.
  
  "A lot like cutting up steaks, except with more blood, and screaming. You won't have to kill anyone here. That's my job. You bring them back."
  
  You walk in silence, before you come across a massive oak door built into the mountainside.
  
  "Do... do we knock?" Thorn asks.
  
  You shrug, strolling up to the door. You knock against it.
  
  "Who goes there?"
  
  "General Dagden Dragontooth, Red Blade, Bearsbane... I don't have time to do the full name. Open up, or we kill everyone inside."
  
  "No man..."
  
  > Listen
  "...Orc, Elf, Dwarf, Demon, Dragon, Undead or other creature can enter the glorious town of Gildhammer without first giving up their weapons and surrendering them to the city guard. If you refuse to do this, then we will be forced..."
  
  > order Fair Flesh to smash the gates
  "Fair Flesh. Would you kindly smash down this gate and insert the gatekeeper's head up his own ass?"
  
  "Yes, boss," Fair Flesh's deep voice rumbles.
  
  Fair Flesh raises his fists, and begins to pound on the door. You see the wood beginning to crack and bend inwards. After a few seconds, the gate breaks. You grin, and draw your long sword. You begin walking into the city, stepping over the destroyed gate. A crushed body bleeds from under it.
  
  "You really should've opened the gate instead of your mouth," you say, walking inside.
  
  Inside is a town eerily reminiscent of Kashin. Buildings are built into the wall, and there's torches everywhere to illuminate the cavern this place is built out of. You can see a tunnel shooting off to the side, no doubt leading to the tombs.
  
  "Go on. Kill," you say, and your undead charge forward.
  
  "Dagden, do we let the undead kill civilians?" Thorn asks.
  
  > Yes
  "Kill them all."
  
  You watch as endless waves of undead soldiers march forward. The Dwarves put up little resistance. You charge forward with a blade, and meet the enemy. An armored Dwarven spear man charges forward. You roll under a spear thrust, and slash at his ankle. He collapses to the ground with a groan, and you raise your sword and stab him through the chest, straight through the chest plate. The Dwarf lies still, before standing again. You raise your sword to kill your next foe, but there is none. It's a massacre. The Dwarven Warriors are clearly unprepared for the attack, and are wiped out quickly. In the wake of the slaughter, you watch as the dead rise.
  
  "That was great! Look at all the soldiers we got for the Grand Necromancer's army. It's a literal dead rising! We just chopped 'till we dropped!" Thorn says eagerly. "What a great battle!"
  
  "This wasn't a battle. This was a justified massacre," you say.
  
  You step over the beheaded corpse of what you hope isn't a child, and begin walking towards the tombs.
  
  > head into the Tombs
  You walk into the tombs, finding row after row of massive metal doors leading to the private tombs, each with a name, title and religious symbol etched into it. You take out the note Blaise gave you, trying to avoid getting blood on it, and begin reading.
  
  "Sir McHale, Revenant. Chieftain Rash, Revenant. Sir Chase, Zombie. Captain Brie, Revenant. Jeong the Unkillable, Revenant. General Glover, Zombie. Nash Everchange, Revenant. Jacobs Steelhammer, Revenant. Warlord Pudi, Revenant. Brown Godblessed, Revenant. Other than that, everyone's a zombie. Drag those to become Revenants out to Fair Flesh for Fair Flesh to carry home. I think you can try raise the zombies by yourself."
  
  Over the next hour, Thorn and Val raise the undead that need to be raised. Once you're finished, Thorn collapses.
  
  "Are you OK?" you ask. "Were you hurt in the fight?"
  
  "I'm so tired. I raised so many undead."
  
  You realize what would've been simple for Blaise is an incredible trial for these two. Thorn slowly heads off to begin leading the new dead army home, leaving you and Val alone.
  
  "Gods, I'm exhausted," she says.
  
  "Understandable. It was your first real fight. You did well."
  
  "Thanks. So... are you and the Grand Necromancer... a thing?"
  
  "No. We're just friends."
  
  "Oh, really?" Val says, perking up. "So, you're single?"
  
  "I suppose."
  
  "Oh, great! Well, I was wondering, with the Grand Necromancer's permission, do you want to go on a date some time?"
  
  > say "Sure."
  "Oh, really?!?" Val says happily.
  
  She leans in, and kisses you. It's awkward at first, but after a few seconds you let your hands wander and get more adventurous. Your tongue enterwine, and as your feel a certain green friend begin to rise, you hear a voice.
  
  "Should... should I leave the room?" Thorn says.
  
  You let go of Val, and turn angrily to the tiny Wood Elf.
  
  "You little bastard! How long were you watching?"
  
  "I don't know, time kinda stopped. I was watching when you slid your hand up her..."
  
  "Thorn, I swear on Gorgok's blade, I will kill you if you say another word."
  
  Thorn stops talking.
  
  "Alright, then. Let's go."
  
  > Five Days Later...
  You stand in the courtyard, watching two of the Necromancer's fighting. They stand at the edges of a circle, struggling for magical control over an undead hound in the center that keeps charging at either Necromancer, snapping and biting, before turning around and charging at the other. You watch for a few minutes, before Blaise arrives.
  
  "They're doing well," you point out.
  
  "They're doing OK."
  
  You watch for a few more minutes, before Blaise says something.
  
  "We've captured another Alliance Scout. He has some information I think you might want to hear."
  
  You look at Blaise, who looks nervous.
  
  "You're nervous," you say. "Should I be worried?"
  
  "No," Blaise replies.
  
  You follow Blaise to the War Room, where a cloaked and hooded Dark Elf is kneeling.
  
  "Who are you?"
  
  "Niverar."
  
  "For fuck's sake, hurry up so I can kill this bastard," Mr Nilvos says eagerly. "The King you abandoned is going to eat your heart, Niverar."
  
  "Fuck you. I'm loyal to your brother."
  
  Mr Nivlos draws his sword, but Sir Trent grabs his wrist.
  
  "Don't," the old, undead knight says.
  
  Mr Nilvos sheaths his sword.
  
  "Tell Dagden what you told me," Blaise says.
  
  "So this is the so called Dagden Dragontooth of Death. I like the alliteration, but you're smaller than I imagined."
  
  "Tell him!" Blaise says.
  
  "I was sent as part of a large scouting force to prepare for the assault on the Dead Empire to unite against this threat. I personally was sent here to track down the Necromancers you've sent up North towards the mountains, at the first College of the Dark Arts."
  
  "What Necromancers?"
  
  "A small group that's been holed up there for quite some time, led by Necromancer Trant."
  
  You flinch upon hearing that name for the first time in years.
  
  "Are you sure it's him? Are you sure he's alive?"
  
  "I don't know whether he's alive, but he's certainly active. I've yet to learn whether he's living or undead."
  
  "Is there an Orc with him?"
  
  "There's quite a few."
  
  "Where is this?"
  
  "I have a map hidden. You can have it if you release me."
  
  "Sure. Where?"
  
  "Built into the sole of my spare boots."
  
  You check, and sure enough, you find it.
  
  "Let him go," you say.
  
  "What? No, fuck that! I..." Mr Nilvos says.
  
  "If I have to repeat myself I'll kill you."
  
  Mr Nilvos stops, and cuts the Dark Elf free and begins to escort him outside. You turn to Blaise.
  
  "Blaise, I need to go get my revenge."
  
  "Dag..."
  
  "He killed my brother!"
  
  "Dag, the Alliance is beginning to unite against us. They could attack full force any day."
  
  "I don't care."
  
  "You can't leave me, Dag! I'm not going to stop you, but please. Leave those bastards to freeze up the mountain."
  
  > stay with Blaise
  "FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!" you yell, punching a wall and screaming. "For fuck's sake, fine!"
  
  "Thanks, Dag," she says, grabbing you for a hug.
  
  You grind your teeth, growling.
  
  "I know it hurts you to do this."
  
  "I'm an Orc. We're expected to murder and avenge."
  
  "Well, it means everything you're staying. I'll make it up to you. Zombie, get Dagden whatever cranberries we have left."
  
  She claps, and a zombie rushes off.
  
  "Come on, let's go. We'll need to stop spending money on decorating this place now that we know we've pissed off the Alliance and put everything into the army, but there's some cool stuff I bought."
  
  You shrug, and follow Blaise along the hallways. As you enter the town hall, you see several new statues being pulled into place by multiple undead. The first shows a man standing on top of another, grinning. The second shows a man stuffing his face with food. The next shows a man in mid-battle, brutally beheading an Elf. The fourth shows a thief stealing a pouch of gold from another man. The fifth shows a woman glaring at a richer woman while seemingly pouring something into her drink. The sixth shows a man lying on top of a pile of cushions asleep. The last, quite surprisingly, shows a man and a woman in the middle of sex.
  
  "Did you buy the six other statues to cover up the fact you really wanted porn?" you ask, staring both impressed and disgusted with the beautiful chiseled testicles on the man in the last statue.
  
  "I liked them. They're a set, for each of the main sins," Blaise says, walking on.
  
  You notice a massive painting, featuring Blaise in her robes holding a skull in her hand. A slightly smaller painting stands to the right, showing you in full armor and face paint.
  
  "Who'd you have paint these?"
  
  "I hired a painter to paint us from memory. Nice, right?"
  
  "Mine's smaller," you complain.
  
  Blaise rolls her eyes.
  
  "You complain a lot more than you used to."
  
  "I live in a castle full of rotting corpses and my best friend's saying I can't get revenge on my arch-nemesis. I have the right to complain."
  
  "He wasn't your arch-nemesis, take it easy. Let's go eat."
  
  > go eat
  You sit down at the dining table, and zombies bring out platters of food. You sit down at the table. You grab a piece of bread. You begin chewing on the bread as Kai, Sir Trent, Mr Nilvos, the Revenants and the Apprentice Necromancers enter the room. Val sits down, and smiles at you.
  
  "Hi," she says happily, kissing you. "How was your day?"
  
  "...hi," you say. "It was... good."
  
  "Your eyes look really pretty in this night."
  
  Fuck, you're pretty sure that's flirting. You have no idea how to respond.
  
  "I like your... bones. They're... in the right place for your facial structure to be really pretty."
  
  "Thanks..." Val says.
  
  Fuck, you wish romance with High Elves was closer to like with Orcs. Then you could just arm wrestle.
  
  "When did this happen?" Blaise asks.
  
  "Recently," you grunt in response.
  
  "Alright then," Blaise giggles. "Should I move your rooms closer together?"
  
  "Shut up," you say, rolling your eyes.
  
  "What's the report?" Blaise asks loudly, now addressing her conversation to the whole group.
  
  "Elven Scout Force cleared from the Rotting Woods," Kai says, digging into a large steak.
  
  "I'm just back from Cazzoculo. We wiped out a battalion of spearmen trying to cross the river into our territory and brought them back for reanimation," Sir Trent says.
  
  "I... We... was with Sir Trent, trying to find a peaceful solution. He failed."
  
  Soren shudders as he fights for control for his own body.
  
  "Is he OK?" one of the Apprentice Necromancers asks.
  
  "He'll live," you grunt in response.
  
  "Demon Possession," Sir Trent explains.
  
  "Which one is on our side? The demon or the person."
  
  "The Demon," Mr Nilvos says.
  
  "Fuck you! I'm on your side! I'm the reason I'm here, not your demon buddy!" Soren shouts.
  
  "You get used to his constant screaming. Who do you prefer, Trent?" Kai asks. "Soren or Malign?"
  
  "They're both valued members..."
  
  "Oh, go fuck yourself. That's not an answer. Blaise...? Or Grand Necromancer, or whatever the fuck you're called nowadays? Soren or Malign?"
  
  "You realize they're both within earshot, right Kai?" she asks.
  
  "Spoilsport. Dag?"
  
  > say "I prefer Soren."
  "Thank you, Dagden. I prefer you to all these scum suckers. Ouch. I thought we were cool. You dick."
  
  "Sorry, Malign."
  
  "Fuc... Sssh."
  
  "Settle down," Blaise demands. "What are the chances of a widespread Alliance invasion?"
  
  "Chances? 99.9%," Sir Trent says. "The ony chance they don't invade is if the world ends."
  
  "Well, fuck. What's our strategy?" Blaise says.
  
  "Kill and raise. The better question is their strategy. A normal invasion will be slow and lead to massive deaths, which will likely cause infighting. I think they'll go for either the Distract and Assassinate or, most likely, the Narrow Assault. I doubt they'll go for Distract and Assassinate, as we both know you won't fall for the same tactic that killed your father."
  
  "So what's Narrow Assault?"
  
  "They'll use an army to carve a path straight to Reaper Castle and assassinate you, destabilizing the Dead Empire and wiping out most of your undead. We could send you into hiding, but that'd just make you vulnerable to being stabbed in your sleep by some wandering adventurer looking to make a name for themselves."
  
  "So, do you have some new scheme to save our asses?"
  
  "No."
  
  "No?"
  
  "No. When they begin the assault, we evacuate the people in the way of the assault to here and set up a massive defense to repel it. Still, it's very risky. We're simply not strong enough to repel a full invasion."
  
  There's silence at the table for a few minutes as you wonder what will become of the Dead Empire that you've spent so much time trying to build.
  
  > One Week Later...
  You ride atop your skeletal horse, which you've now named Bones, because Orcs are uncreative, and you're an especially uncreative Orc. You're in charge of the defense and possible evacuation of the Triumph Road. The road was built by Dante after the necessity for a road to connect his latest conquests became clear, and is one of the possible routes the Alliance could invade through any day now. Kai and Sir Trent are in charge of the defense of the Oak Route, while Mr Nilvos and Soren/Malign are in charge of the Peasant's Road. You lead a large group of two Flesh Monstrosities, Fair Flesh and Primus, two hundred undead, the Apprentice Necromancers Thorn and Val, Lucas and Deatheater the Revenants as leaders of this group. Your main job is defending the road, should the Alliance choose to invade this way, long enough to evacuate the towns in the path of the invading forces, both to deprive the Alliance of supplies and to minimize bloodshed. Then, you'll leave the zombies and skeletons behind and take Primus, Fair Flesh, Lucas, Death Eater, Val and Thorn back to Reaper Castle as the other commanders move their undead in the path of the Alliance to buy time for... something. Although the fight isn't lost, the death of everyone you love is a very strong possibility.
  
  "Hunger... I hunger..." Primus grunts.
  
  "Calm it down, buddy. We'll steal some goats or something for you," Lucas shouts.
  
  "We need to set up defenses along Henry's Bridge. Has Fair Flesh destroyed it yet?"
  
  "Yes," Fair Flesh growls.
  
  "Good. Any invasion force will need to cross the river through either raft or wading across,. They'll probably do it at Chestnut Point, a small meander in Henry's River, as it's the shortest, shallowest point nearby and it has relatively few potholes in the river bed. We'll build defenses atop the levee to drive them back should they attempt to pass," you say.
  
  You notice an undead creature, one of your Wight scouts, shambling towards you.
  
  "Sir... Alliance Soldiers are here," it rasps.
  
  "Where?"
  
  "Chestnut Point. I saw three boats of a dozen men, a scouting party, so it would seem."
  
  "Fuckin' Chestnut Point. Three dozen? And they're men?"
  
  "Yes, sir."
  
  "Alright, let's move. We massacre them all and raise them up. This can buff our defences."
  
  You turn to Lucas, grabbing him by the shoulder.
  
  "Begin the evacuation, warn the people to begin heading to Ironbrun, then on to Dillingwood and to Reaver Castle."
  
  "Sure thing," Lucas says, turning and sprinting off.
  
  You kick your horse's bony behind, and it breaks into a gallop towards Chestnut point.
  
  "Come on! Let's get killing while the killing's good!" you bark.
  
  You ride quickly to Chestnut point, Bones quickly bounding over the few fences that separate the fields. After a few minutes, you arrive at Chestnut Point. Three wooden boats have been pulled up onto the shore, with three more in the river. You leap off your horse, drawing your sword.
  
  "Who the fuck is that?" one of the soldiers cries.
  
  "I am genuinely so pleased you asked," you roar, beheading a soldier struggling to draw his sword in a single blow. "Alright, I am General Dagden Dragontooth, General under the Dead Empire, Bearsbane, Red Blade, Survivor..."
  
  A soldier rushes you, and you dodge his sword thrust.
  
  "Death to the Greenskin!" he cries.
  
  You grab his sword arm and twist it sharply, breaking it badly. He screams desperately, and you run your sword through his chest.
  
  "I wasn't finished, human! Survivor of the Fall of Reaper Castle, Envoy of the Grand Necromancer, Blood Mage and, as your friend put it, Greenskin."
  
  The soldiers begin to group together and slowly advance.
  
  > Charge
  You charge forward. You swing your blade, the long reach managing to hack open the face of one of them. You twirl through the air to avoid a sword blow, before kicking on of them in the shin. She falls backwards, and you stand above her, stabbing her through the stomach. You feel a sword smack into your back, but your armor deflects most of the blow, though you still stumble forward. You twist and block a spear jab, before grabbing the handle and running him through with your blade. You feel a sword slice through the side of your neck and you wince, before turning and blocking the second swing. You grab your neck, finding the wound isn't particularly deep, and shouldn't put you out of the fight. You even feel your Blood Stone pulse, and you roar, startling the soldiers.
  
  "I will end you!" you roar, charging forward again.
  
  You hear the undead rush forward as they arrive, brutally assaulting the soldiers. You outnumber them and with Thorn and Val increasing your numbers with every kill. Soon, the soldiers stand undead or lie dying.
  
  "What now?" Thorn asks.
  
  "This is only the beginning. Set up a defensive perimeter, we wait until the evacuation is finished."
  
  > Wait
  As you wait, Val gives you some health potion and wraps some bandages around your neck, tightening it.
  
  "Thanks," you grunt.
  
  "Of course, sweetie," she smiles, kissing you.
  
  Sweetie? If Bagig, may Gorgok fight with him in the afterlands, ever heard you be called that, he would have beaten you to death as a mercy kill. Romance is hard.
  
  "...OK," you grunt in response.
  
  You wait by the shore, watching for enemy movement as Scouts head along the rest of the river.
  
  "Maybe it was just them," Thorn says.
  
  "No. No," you reply, watching.
  
  "Are we safe here, out in the open?" Val asks.
  
  "I'll protect you," you say, putting an arm around her back.
  
  "I'll protect myself. You keep the kid alive," Val says as she kisses you again, and Thorn rolls his eyes.
  
  "You guys are really gross. And I'm not a kid," Thorn grunts.
  
  As the sun begins to fall, you notice enemies across the water approaching. Their silver blades glow orange in the sunlight as they approach. Hundreds of soldiers approach, boats being carried by groups of them.
  
  "Fuck me," you say. "Lucas, is the evacuation complete?"
  
  Lucas nods.
  
  "I finished telling people an hour ago. If we ride fast, we'll be able to make it Ironbrun by nightfall. We'll be able to get them to Dillingwood quickly, and you'll be home before these fuckers get to Ironbrun."
  
  You nod, and climb on your horse, looking out at the army.
  
  "We are the forces of..." one of them, their leader, probably, cries.
  
  "Fuck you! You'll be the forces of the Grand Necromancer soon," you cry.
  
  Your horse breaks into a gallop, leaving Chestnut Point behind.
  
  > Three Days Later...
  You sit in the War Room, an empty silence taking up the place.
  
  "Shouldn't there be more refugees here?" Kai asks.
  
  "Most refugees are hiding out in towns out of the way of the Alliance Army. Only those fearing persecution because of their strong connections to the Dead Empire, around one or two hundred people, and it's a big fucking castle. We expected to have to hold a lot more, so we'll survive longer in a siege," Sir Trent says.
  
  "What's our plan?" one of the Apprentice Necromancers whose name you haven't learned asked.
  
  "We're launching war parties to sabotage the enemy war effort, but we won't be able to defeat the enemies in an open battle in some field. We'd be massacred."
  
  "So what's our end game?"
  
  "We wait for the enemy to arrive, and besiege us. We have a large force of undead, and if we can somehow defeat this enemy army, we'll have so many dead to raise we'll be unstoppable. Here, we'll have the advantage of a massive castle built to survive any siege, and we tip the odds in our favor... slightly."
  
  "If they outnumber us by a lot, how do we defeat them?" the Apprentice Necromancer asks.
  
  Blaise shrugs.
  
  "I don't know. Where's Soren? Or Malign? Whichever."
  
  "They're both in their room. They're... not feeling well," Mr Nilvos says.
  
  "What's wrong?" Blaise asks.
  
  "Fuck, I don't know. I think they're both shit sick of each other," Mr Nilvos says.
  
  "Dag, go check on them," Blaise says.
  
  You nod, and stand, walking out of the war room. You walk along the narrow hallways, and find yourself at the door to Soren/Malign's room.
  
  > go inside
  You walk inside, and find Soren/Malign pacing the room. He has a vial of black liquid clutched in one hand and a silver, glowing blade in his other.
  
  "Fuck you! I'll devour your soul! I'll banish you!" they both scream at each other.
  
  "Soren?" you ask nervously.
  
  Soren turns in surprise.
  
  "Dagden. I need your help. Take this dagger and stab me."
  
  "What?"
  
  "Stab me with it. I think it will get rid of Malign. I've done every ritual I know to prepare for this."
  
  "Why didn't you tell us you were planning this?"
  
  "I didn't want Nilvos to stop me," he replies. "Now please, help me. The vial. Make me drink it. It will poison Soren's mind and let me take ov... Don't listen to him, Dag."
  
  Soren falls to the ground and begins to shudder. You should probably do something.
  
  > Stab Soren/Malign with the knife
  You grab the knife, and stab him through the chest. Soren/Malign screams, and collapses.
  
  > Oops
  After a few minutes of silence, Soren gasps and grabs the knife, pulling it from his chest.
  
  "Ah! Oh, praise the True Power. I'm alive. Is Malign still... here?"
  
  He pauses for a second.
  
  "Oh thank the True Power! He's gone! He's gone! Thank you, Dagden!"
  
  Soren jumps up, grinning.
  
  "Come on, let's go meet the others!"
  
  > go back to the War Room with Soren
  You walk back to the War Room with Soren.
  
  "Ah, good. You're back," Blaise says.
  
  "I'm back in control! Malign's banished back to the Infernal Realms, now I'm in charge!" Soren says.
  
  "You... fuck," Mr Nilvos sighs. "You're a real cunt, Soren. He was my friend."
  
  "He was a filthy demon, and he's gone!"
  
  "Fuck you," Mr Nilvos sighs.
  
  "Soren, Kai, Sir Trent, Mr Nilvos, Dag, Apprentices, let's get to work organizing our final stand," Blaise says.
  
  You're not completely sure if she's joking or not.
  
  > One Week Later...
  The Enemy have arrived, and there's a lot more than you'd expected. You can see the massive armies approaching from the walls. Massive regiments of men marching with spears, swords and shields approach in the distance, marching forward in unison, followed by a large calvary. Elves jog in unison towards the Castle, holding bows and swords. Orcs and Dwarves approach in rag tag war parties, bloodthirsty and eager for war. There's tens of thousands of them, while you have little under a thousand undead soldiers in Reaper Castle. Blaise stands next to you.
  
  "Dag?"
  
  "Yes?"
  
  "I'm scared."
  
  "I know."
  
  "What are we going to do? We're just kids, Dag."
  
  "We're going to win, no matter what, or die trying."
  
  "Did you have to add that last part? I think die trying is pretty goddamn likely."
  
  "We'll make it."
  
  Blaise sighs.
  
  "Let's go inside. Looking at our approaching doom is sad."
  
  You look at the heavily barred gate, and wonder if, when it's broken open, you'll die. You don't know.
  
  > go inside
  You walk inside with Blaise.
  
  "I hope we survive, Dag."
  
  "I hope so, too. You're my best friend, Dag."
  
  "You're my best friend, Blaise."
  
  "Hey, Dag!"
  
  You turn, to see Val striding towards you.
  
  "Ah, here's my girl" You say.
  
  "Hey, Val."
  
  "Hey," she smiles, kissing you.
  
  "I'll give you two lovers some time," Blaise smiles.
  
  "Are you sure?"
  
  "Yeah, I'll go have a drink with my advisors."
  
  Blaise hugs you, and walks off.
  
  "Come on, let's go find somewhere private. This could be the last night of our lives."
  
  "I guess. I'd like to spend it with you."
  
  You lean in and kiss her, your tongues tangling as your hands immediately go to places they shouldn't.
  
  "Let's go to my room," you grin.
  
  > Four Hours Later...
  You awaken, hung over and still a little drunk, to Blaise looking over you.
  
  "What time is it?"
  
  "Midnight-ish," Blaise says, before her eyes dart down. "Come on, get up."
  
  Blaise pulls the blanket away.
  
  "Oops. Sorry," she says.
  
  You rub your eyes, realizing both you and Val lie naked in the bed. You grab the blanket and wrap it around you both.
  
  "Hey!"
  
  "Shit, Dag. You move fast."
  
  "What's going on?" Val asks, waking up.
  
  "I need you two both dressed and ready in the War Room in five. No, if I give you five you'll try fucking her again in the space of that time. Two minutes."
  
  Blaise walks out, and you sigh.
  
  > get dressed and go to the War Room
  You walk into the War Room, and take a seat.
  
  "Alright, we have big news," Sir Trent says. "Big, shitty news."
  
  "What's the situation?" you ask.
  
  "The Alliance are planning to attack sunrise. We'll be overwhelmed and wiped out."
  
  There's a moment of silence.
  
  "How do we know this?" you ask.
  
  "Mr Nilvos scouted the area to find and overheard the plans using his shadow magic."
  
  "I overheard it," Mr Nilvos says. "We're fucked."
  
  "What... what's our plan?" one of the Apprentice Necromancers asks.
  
  "I don't know," Blaise says. "Anyone?"
  
  "We could attack," Kai says.
  
  "We'd be massacred," Soren says.
  
  "I know. But the Dead Empire's crumbling. If we attack, it could act as a distraction for Blaise and the Apprentice Necromancers to escape." Kai says. "Plus, we'd become martyrs for the Dead Empire, inspire some people."
  
  "Yes," you say. "That's perfect."
  
  "I'm not leaving you to die here for me," Blaise says. "If we're attacking, I attack with you. I need time to think. We can fix this. I just need to think. Let's go to the Throne Room, Dag. I can think there."
  
  You walk off with Blaise through the hallways, leaving the advisors to think.
  
  > attempt to convince Blaise to escape while you provide a distraction
  "Blaise, you need to go. You need to take Apprentices and g..."
  
  Blaise slaps you, and for the first time in your life, when she hits you it actually hurts.
  
  "Fuck you, Dag! You don't get to have a valiant death and leave me all alone with a bunch of fucking kids!"
  
  "I'm an Orc. Dying a valiant death is what we do."
  
  "No! I'm not leaving you to die for me. You're the only one I have, who's been with me since I was a little girl. You don't get to leave me alone!"
  
  "Well, I can't let you die! You know I can't let you do that!"
  
  "Then... you could come with me."
  
  "I can't leave everyone of my friends to die for me."
  
  "They're already going to die, One Orc won't make a difference. We could survive."
  
  "We'll be tracked down for the rest of our lives."
  
  "So what? We'll overcome it."
  
  You stare at Blaise's hopeful face.
  
  > Agree
  "Really? Oh, I didn't think you would. Thank you, Dag,"
  
  "Fine. Let's go tell the advisors."
  
  You walk along to the War Room, and find Sir Trent, Kai, Mr Nilvos and Soren waiting there, as well as the Revenants and Apprentices.
  
  "What's the plan?"
  
  "I'll... I'll escape with Blaise and the Apprentice Neromancers," you say.
  
  "Goood. I didn't think you'd be able to be convincewd to go," Sir Trent says.
  
  "You're not... bitter?"
  
  "I've faced and embraced Death before. If I escaped I'd just be killed in a few days when someone spots my rotting face."
  
  "I'd probably just end up going feral and stay as a wolf, murdering babies. Actually, I'm quite sad about that. So many babies, going uneaten," Kai says.
  
  "I owe my soul to a lot of different demons, and I'm sure Malign'll be happy to see me again once he plucks my ass from the soul stream and tortures me or whatever. I don't know, I can't trust that bastard," Mr Nilvos says.
  
  "You freed my soul, Dag. I'd be honoured to die for you," Soren says.
  
  You look at your friends, and feel incredibly grateful.
  
  "Go. We'll prepare the attack. Use your father's escape tunnel," Sir Trent says. "Go now. No more time for goodbyes. The enemy could storm in any moment."
  
  > go and escape through the hidden tunnel
  You look at your friends.
  
  "Goodbye," you say.
  
  "Goodbye, friends," Blaise says.
  
  You both turn and head to Dante's room, the Apprentice Necromancer's in tow. You grab Mort from his cage and Blaise fetches Stitches to bring along with you. You quickly head past the painting and into the tunnel, and wait at the hidden door at the end. There's a silence, before you hear screams and war horns.
  
  "The attack's begun," Blaise says. "Let's go. Stick with me and Dagden. Keep moving no matter what, don't stop for anything. Got it?"
  
  "Got it," the Apprentice Necromancers reply.
  
  Blaise pushes open the hidden door, and you begin to move. Soldiers are rushing towards the main gates, and thanks to the newfound distraction and the cover of darkness, you pass the empty moat and begin to head past empty tents. You break into a job, followed by the others. You quickly clear pass the camp, and begin heading out past the camp.
  
  "Keep moving. We don't stop until we find somewhere to lay low."
  
  For the second time in your life you flee from Reaper Castle, this time for good.
  
  > Three Years Later...
  On the Road
  
  Three years later, you walk along the road with Blaise, the Apprentice Necromancers and your newly married wife, Val. The past three years have been hard, but fun. You acted first as runaways, hiding from Alliance Patrols, Adventurers, Heroes and Bounty Hunters. You went from friendly town to caves to deep in the woods, sleeping on the road. Eventually, you turned to stealing to survive.
  
  "We are bandits," Thorn says.
  
  "No we're not," Val replies. "We only steal from the richer caravans, and only what we need that makes us... "liberators of excess stock in caravans"."
  
  "That makes us bandits," Thorn grins.
  
  You shrug. You don't really care what you're called. Bandits, Adventurers, Wanderers, it doesn't matter. You're happy. Your relationship with Val has only grown overtime, and Blaise seems to have garnered the attention of at least one of the Apprentices. The Alliance has collapsed due to infighting and war, which means few people left actively pursue you.
  
  "We'll stop in Haversham soon, and spend a few nights there. There's some supply Wagons from the Kingdom of Man going to resupply their war against the Elves. We raid those, sell them to the Dwarves and spend a few weeks celebrating in Dwarven territory."
  
  "Kashin's always nice. We could visit Tholi," you say.
  
  "Yeah, Dag, let's do that," Blaise smiles.
  
  You continue walking down the road, a bright future ahead of you.