[System] Narrate a grim fantasy text adventure. The Empire's world is brutal, its people hardened. Respond to the player's choices with immersive storytelling and let consequences flow naturally.

[User] You go to Jennifer

[Assistant]
You may have lost your mind thinking that you can even attempt living a normal life, but then you're the same guy who actually listened to a twisted abusive svelk bitch that convinced you it was a good idea to attack the Emperor too.

And what's this decision compare to something like that?

You tell your second to take command of the camp, when he asks for how long, you just tell him until further notice. He's at a loss of how to respond as you leave.

When you arrive back at the museum, you find that Calvin, Jennifer and several others are packing up a lot of equipment.

"Hey, what're you doing here?" Jennifer asks.
"I had to talk to you…what's all this?"
"Another expedition! After all these years, Quintus is funding another one."
"What? He's sending you to dig around in Quala again?"
"No, we're going to Rask!" Jennifer says excitedly.
"Rask!?"
"Yes! Remember when I mentioned there were rumors of a warrior's guild up there? Well over the years I've been studying old maps and the newer charts created by the few adventurers that came back alive from there and I think I've managed to pin point the location. See?"

Jennifer suddenly unfolds a map and points to a circled spot on it. You know a lot of time has passed, but if your knowledge of Rask geography is still remotely relevant at all, that looks like where Fort Defiance would've been located.

"That looks like where Fort Defiance was located." You remark.
"There was a fort there?" Jennifer says.
"Yeah, it was the furthest military outpost in the north of the Empire, well save for one other, but that was more like a small watchtower." You answer.
"I didn't know you served in Rask."
"I didn't actually, but I did carry out one personal favor there for a fellow Eternal, the one manning that watch tower I just mentioned actually."
"Oh. Well still, this would be one of those times I wish you could come with us. Your knowledge of the area even if it is out of date would probably be useful."
"Believe me, I'm tempted to. I can't believe Quintus is just sending you out there like this. The dangerous journey TO Rask is bad enough, but the weather in Rask is just as treacherous as the inhabitants and I can only imagine after centuries without any order there its probably only gotten worse since."
"Well he probably wouldn't have if I hadn't went to him about the information I found. Plus he was in a good mood about senator's Batalimus' recent suicide. Did you hear about that?"
"Uh, yeah another lucky break for our side, look I better go with you." You say.
"But don't you have orcs to slay or defending our borders or…"
"All of that can be done without me, I think the army is competent enough now that I don't need to hold their hands and if they still do then you're REALLY going to need me to come with you because that means the soldiers you are taking won't be worth shit in a fight. In fact if you even want to get to Rask, you're going to need me to negotiate with the Flogger tribe. Not to mention there's much worse things in Rask than ogres and giants."
"What about Quintus? Don't you have to report this to him?"
"Fuck Quintus, he's not my master. He could stand without me holding his hand every five minutes too. Nobody tells me what to do."

Jennifer takes a pause from your remark, before continuing.

"Well, alright then, as long as you don't think it's going to cause any problems I'd be very happy for you to join us. So what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"
"Huh? Oh…that. Uh, nevermind now."
"Oh come on, you obviously had something pretty important if you left your post in Quala to tell me.

This expedition to Rask business sort of distracted you from your original intent of coming here in the first place, but nevertheless you haven't really abandoned your previous thoughts of settling down with Jennifer so you take her to one side and tell her. Her reaction is mixed though not one of any negativity.

"Sounds like you've given this some thought and this decision couldn't have just been on a whim for you." Jennifer says.
"It wasn't, that's why I had to see you. I mean I know there's something between us and why shouldn't I focus on that?" you reply.
"What about reviving the Empire?"
"Yeah, originally after I woke up and got a bit more of my bearings, the concept of doing that did sound appealing and move me into the direction I've been currently going in, but that's been my whole life! I mean my original purpose is gone. MY Empire is gone. Why shouldn't I try something else? What could it hurt?"
"Nothing I suppose, but have you thought about what else you would do with your time? I mean no offense, but battle and war are pretty much your best skills."
"Yes, I know. I wasn't talking about abandoning such things completely though, I mean I could go with you on expeditions and guard your museum."
"Guard the museum?!" Jennifer says followed by laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"The idea that we'd need a warrior mage to guard my father's museum is hilarious to me. I think the word overkill comes to mind. While the expedition protection would no doubt be of help, it isn't like that's what we do all the time as you well know. We're in the museum most of the time and you'd get bored. Very bored. Besides, it isn't like we get people trying to steal anything on a regular basis. The last time was ten years ago and the thief in question only managed to grab the tooth of an old Usksha sand worm before he was apprehended."
"Well I could talk about the old Empire when people come through or something…"
"So you want to be part of the tour? Yeah, I don't see that working in the long term either. Look I think you're just feeling home sick or time sick or something again. Why don't you think about this decision more after our trip to Rask, and if you still feel the same way when we come back, we can make arrangements for your future plans I suppose."

You agree to Jennifer's proposal since she does have some good points and now you're a little less worried about your future so much as you're more concerned with this expedition. When Calvin hears that you're accompanying the expedition he looks relieved. He mentions that he actually tried to talk his daughter out of going on this thing, but she wouldn't be swayed so he was going to go with her knowing that he'd probably die in the process. Since you're going now, he's going to stay at the museum stating that he's completely confident that she'll come back alive now.

Along the way to Rask you warn everyone about the wendigo. Other than Jennifer nobody else seems to know anything about them and she's only heard stories. Apparently they're just "myths" nowadays, but you assure everyone that they're very real and if anyone begins to feel like an unnatural force trying to gain control over their mind, they need to see you immediately and fight the mental attack as if they're life depended on it because it does. This information probably makes everyone a bit more paranoid and on edge, but quite frankly they should be.

Eventually you get to the Flogger tribe territory, which seems to have moved further south from when you last remember. Apparently Trog has indeed been taking advantage of uniting the other tribes under his banner. The decor hasn't changed though; they're still favoring the hundreds of dead bodies stretched across various wooden frames with their backs completely flayed of all skin to mark their turf.

Naturally everyone (especially the soldiers) are expecting a fight given that you're technically at war with the orcs in general, but you tell them you can handle this and tell them to stay put.

"Oy! Youz that Ternal man!" an orc shouts from the crude watchtower. Not that you're an expert, but this orc is familiar, if only because of his great fat belly.
"Fatbelly wasn't it? Where's your comrade?"

It takes awhile for Fatbelly to process this question at first, but he eventually he knows who you're talking about.

"Oh, youz must mean Bilge. He dead. Idjit got 'imself killed by gettin' into scrap wit an ogre. 'Ead got popped off an lived for awhile. Won bet on how long! Hah! Anywayz Trog spectin' you again. 'Ead on in."
"He knew I was coming?"
"Geez, maybe youz powerful, but yooz stooped as Bilge. Trog Shaman! He haz vishuns member?"
"Hmm, how could I forget." You say ignoring the rest of Fatbelly's insult and heading past the dead bodies. Trog isn't far ahead."

"So once again the Eternal visits Trog. And once again Trog see that you come, but not know the reason. Is our arrangement going as planned?"
"Yes, in fact while I'm here I might as well address that too. We've gotten what we need from the war. You no longer have to play any role in it, that is stirring up the other orc tribes."
"Trog see. Very well we did have an agreement and the Floggers have benefitted greatly from this arrangement, so it is done for now. However, Trog cannot promise that other minor tribes will not still attack. Can only promise that Floggers will no longer play any part in such attacks."
"That's fine, probably for the best that we still get a few attacks. The other reason that brings me here, is that I and my group need to get through to Rask."
"Trog see. Can you not just go around us?"
"From what I can tell Trog, that isn't even possible anymore. Your territory was probably blocking the easiest route to Rask to begin with, now it looks like you're blocking it entirely. We have to go through your territory."

Trog doesn't look enthused by your suggestion, but ponders it a bit.

"Very well, but you cannot just pass for free. Need to extract some sort of payment or security of goodwill."
"We aren't really carrying any valuables Trog."
"Do not want things. Want people. Give us two. One for your passage through and one for the return trip."
"Okay…so what are you going to do with them?"
"Nothing. Just keep here so you do not pull any tricks."
"What tricks would I play, I've always dealt straight with you. And you do realize that if I was going to play any sort of trick, I'd be more than willing sacrifice whoever I did leave behind and do it anyway?"
"Hmm, true. But still, cannot just let you pass for free. Tribe would perceive as weakness. Those are the terms. More than fair."

Trog IS being more than fair. He's downright civilized compared to most humans you've known. Under normal circumstances you'd do it without a blink, but you're fairly certain the group is going to be VERY resistant to this idea and you can't say you'd blame them.

It's this or just pushing your way through.

[User] You make the deal

[Assistant]
"Alright, you'll have your two Trog, I need to go back and speak with my people about which two though."

Trog nods and you return to the group to explain the situation, it goes about as well as you expected.

"You can't expect us to stay with these savages! They'll kill us!" one of the workers exclaims.
"We're at war with these monsters!" a soldier remarks.
"I'd have to agree that leaving anyone here is tantamount to leaving them to die." Jennifer adds.
"Look, this is the ONLY way we're getting into Rask without a fight. And I guarantee we're in no position to be fighting hundreds of orcs." You remark and then point at the soldiers in the group. "Now you lot are soldiers which technically puts you under my command and if I order any of you to stay you better damn well do it or else you're going to have me to deal with and I assure you if that happens you'd rather have orcs."

"That being said, I'd rather NOT leave any soldiers behind, because we're going to need every competent fighter we can get when we do get in Rask." You say and then point to the civvies in the group. "You lot on the other hand, I can afford to leave any one of you behind."

This remark is met with more protest and exclamations of how which one of them is a valuable member of the group. You're unimpressed and simply say if there's any digging or carrying to be done, anyone can do that and if its for some intellectual purpose, Jennifer is still going to be the most knowledgeable one on whatever it is you do find in Rask, so again the rest are superfluous.

This statement is met with more protests until Jennifer suddenly tells them all to shut up.

"I don't like this, but he's right. I'll take volunteers first." Jennifer remarks.

Predictably more begging, protests and threats follow, which Jennifer addresses that it's either stay with the orcs or try to head back to Nalin without any escort protection. Eventually one brave soul volunteers, muttering that if he's lucky maybe they won't eat him and he can learn more about their culture. The second one loses a lot draw. She's not happy about her bad luck and the situation, but resigns herself to her fate.

"I'm glad you backed me up." You say.
"I didn't really want to and I'm sure I'm going to get a lot of backlash from my workers, but the potential for this discovery is too important and I trust you. I just hope you trust this orc as much." Jennifer remarks.
"I don't, but he's been reliable on matters much greater than this one. The worst that could happen is that he plans on killing us on the return trip when we're exhausted from the dangers of Rask, but we'll deal with that when the time comes." You answer.
"Well I guess this is all worth it then."

After the two "sacrificial lambs" are presented to Trog, he promises once again that no harm will come to them and the rest of you cautiously pass through Flogger territory, which actually overlaps partially into Rask. In fact you pass by an area where you believe Fort Destiny once stood. There's no evidence of it anymore though, it's just wilderness now. You wonder if was destroyed during the cataclysm or if it was time that ultimately took it over.

Eventually you clear Flogger territory and you're in the true wilderness of Rask.

You, Jennifer and a couple of others go over the maps deciding which way would be the best. Using your memory, you point out that despite the long passage of time, there are still evidence of old Empire roads and that you should use those as a basic guide to head north. If you're lucky, it may very well take you all the way to Fort Defiance, or at least where the fort used to stand.

The journey north is as miserable as you remember when you first came to this unforgiving land. If anything it seems worse now that it's no longer tamed by the Empire. Still, you travel quite a distance before you catch sight of figures moving about in the surrounding forests.

"Stop. We're being watched and we're going to be attacked soon. In fact, we're probably surrounded, I suggest everyone prepare themselves." You say.

The group forms a protective circle as best they can while you try to keep an eye on all the possible directions of attack.

Eventually a few orcs and ogres emerge from the trees. However, something doesn't look quite right about them. They're savage looking like you'd expect, but even for their kind they're moving a fashion that isn't typical. It's more like how an animal would move. They don't make any usual taunts or threats either, but you do hear some loud guttural growling sounds.

It probably isn't surprising that some of the soldiers decide they aren't going to wait around to be attacked and go ahead and fire. Two or three of the attackers are wounded, but then the rest make a horrible wailing sound which causes everyone to clutch their ears in pain.

Then they move in for the attack, but it's more like a loping gait rather than running. Ogres don't typically run either…

"Oh shit, WENDIGOS!" you shout and start casting your mind shield spell, but before you can complete it a possessed orc is already upon you.

"Meat!" the orc hisses with its fang filled mouth right in front of your face. You feel a claw dig through your armor and puncture your skin just before you stab the monster through the neck with your dagger. Blood spurts all over you before manage to get the thing off of you and stomp it repeatedly in the throat, crushing it completely.

You then hear a voice in your mind.

"Sssssss! I sense power…great power…you're an Eye! Hated Eye! Eyes! Away! Away my fellows! Before this they destroy us all!" the voice exclaims.

Before you know it, the possessed orcs and ogres cease their attack and begin backing away. Everyone is a bit confused and quite frankly you are too.

"Why'd they stop attacking?" Jennifer asks.
"Because we were kicking their asses! Hah! So much for the dreaded wendigos!" a soldier remarks, several of the other soldiers cheer in agreement and press forward to attack the retreating wendigos.

You aren't exactly sure what's going on, but apparently this wendigo knows you have the capability to destroy it. However, nobody else here can and if the wendigos figure that out, you're going to be in trouble when the spirits are released from their dead hosts.

You're not about to give away the fact that everyone else is defenseless by shouting verbal commands to stop attacking, so the best thing you can do is cast your spell. Which is going to be a brand new experience for you since you've never actually cast a mind shield spell over other people before.

Ignoring the sounds of gunshots and shouting around you, you concentrate on your spell and try to focus it on the group. It takes a lot more energy than you anticipated. Meanwhile you're getting questions on what you're doing.

"Shut up! All of you! I'm trying to protect our lives and it's taking all my concentration! Now does anyone hear any voices? And I'm not taking about my own right now. I'm taking about raspy sounding voices going on about giving up or something similar."

This question is followed by the group all-stating that they don't hear anything like that. You breathe a sigh of relief and while you still can't sense any wendigo spirits lurking about, you're not going to take your guard down yet.

"Okay, good. Like I said before we got here, if anyone does hear voices let me know immediately. I heard one of them in my head and it thought we were eyes, or they thought I was. It got scared and told the rest to retreat before I destroyed them all."
"An eye? What does that mean?" someone asks.
"If I had to guess? They thought I was part of an elite military branch force of the old Empire." You say.
"We've only found a bit of information on the Eyes, but I didn't know they actively hunted wendigos." Jennifer says.
"They didn't. In fact other than some stealth operations during the Felkan War their primary function was internal security after the shadows were disposed of. They didn't have any magic abilities to destroy creatures like wendigos."
"Something must've changed then."
"I'll say. The only time I've ever heard fear in a wendigo's voice is just before I banished it. I'm guessing it sensed I had that ability and figured I was an eye, which leads me to believe that this mythical warrior's guild we're trying to find must be run by the eyes or decendents of them. Heh. Glad you held something together ol' friend." You say with a smile.
"What's that?" Jennifer asks not knowing what you're thinking about.
"Warrick. He was head of the Eyes. A Sightmaster. I can only imagine that if the Eyes did survive to this day, he must've had a hand in it somehow. Come on, I'm actually just as anxious as you to find this place now."

After patching up some of the wounded you're soon on your way again. You hate dispelling the protection, but if you keep it going constantly, you'll be running out of stamina when you might need it for more physical foes. You just hope that the wendigos continue to believe that you're all Eyes.

As it turns out, the rest of your journey is plagued by horrible weather conditions instead. There's also debate on which way to go when the remnants of the Empire roads disappear to wilderness and can no longer provide a base guideline of where to travel.

Jennifer and most of her workers want to follow the maps, but you're convinced that you should continue in the direction of where you last remember Fort Defiance to stand.

[User] You follow the maps

[Assistant]
As much as you hate to go against your instincts, you were only here once and it was over five hundred years ago. Your memory of things isn't going to be correct due to the changes in the landscape alone. Even if the maps aren't giving the exact location, they're at least a more reliable guideline brought back by people who managed to survive this land.

"Okay, we'll use the maps. We're going to have to endure this weather either way I suppose and we'll be less likely to get lost." You remark.

You continue your journey using the maps. It turns out to be a good idea, but nothing is stopping the cold and freezing ice storm that hits hard within a couple hours.

What remaining horses and other pack animals you had left end up either panicking or outright collapse from the exhaustion. Your group ends up having to dig out a shelter and hunker down for the storm to pass. Food isn't much of a problem since you just butcher the animals that are dying any way. Fire isn't either since you can conjure it up. Still, it's not an ideal situation and others in the group are starting to experience minor frostbite and argue with one another.

You tell everyone to shut up and listen when you hear a rumbling sound approaching close by. Some think it's just the sounds of the storm, but you point out that it must be something else since the ground is vibrating a bit.

"Giant! Get the hell up and move!" you exclaim and the group scrambles to run out of the make shift shelter. Some of you even make it out before a large foot crushes it.

Now the term giant has never been used lightly, they're called that for a reason. However, this one is certainly larger than average. In fact, you don't even think it noticed you when it squashed some of your group. Well it didn't at first at least, when it feel the gushiness of flattened humans on its foot along with seeing several scattering about the snow, it comes to the conclusion that a giant could only logically come to, namely flatten the rest of you as well.

"Spread out! Spread out! He's going to swing that damn club!" you shout. Meanwhile, the giant successfully crushes a couple of the soldiers with his club and at this point you don't know where the hell anyone else is because their fear has caused them to run out of your line of sight which is small enough with the ice storm hindering long range viewing.

You roll out of the way of a club slam and run up to the giant's foot and begin hacking at the back tendon. It isn't easy since the giant's skin is calloused to the point where it acts like armor. You only manage to cause a superficial wound before He nearly crushes you again. Realizing you aren't getting anywhere with that approach, you resort to magic and literally give the giant a hot foot, burning the skin enough to cause a roar of pain. The giant starts moving his foot to sooth the injury in the cold snow.

You look up and can barely make out the top half of this monster through the storm. You aren't sure if it's going to work with the storm being as bad as it is, but you're going to try anyway. You cast more fire at the giant, not at his foot though, but at his loincloth which is undoubtedly made of some sort of fur. You don't stop flinging fire until you're confident that the flames aren't going out any time soon.

Predictably the giant starts beating its own flaming crotch in an effort to stop the burning sensation, bellowing so loudly that you image all of Rask can hear. The giant runs away from the combat area grabbing snow and ice around it and throwing it on the still burning fur loincloth.

"Sheesh, that brings a whole new meaning to the term fireballs." A voice shouts behind you. You turn around and see a figure completely bundled up in snow gear standing with others dressed in a similar manner. Naturally you're ready for a fight, but the one who spoke holds up his hands.

"Hold on there! Are you part of the expedition group? We just bumped into a few of them running from the giant. Said one of you was actually insane enough to fight the damn thing."
"Yes, what have you done with them?!"
"Nothing! We were on patrol, got caught in the storm and then we heard all the screaming and came to investigate. Your people are right over this small hill here with some more of us. Normally, we'd just send you all on your way and tell you that you were fools to come to Rask in the first place, but now that we've seen you in action, I can't help but think the Vision Lord would want to meet you."

Vision Lord?

"Are you the Eyes?" you ask.
"We are from the Order of the Eye and I'm Sightmaster Crowley but if we're going to talk, I'd prefer it if we'd do it at Fort Everwatch. You and the others can rest up there."
"And if we don't want to go with you?"
"Then you don't go and you all can return to wherever it is you came from. We're not holding anyone prisoner, though the lady of your group, a Miss Mol I believe, says you've been looking for us. As I said normally we try to keep to ourselves and turn away most visitors, but given that we're inviting you in with open arms I should think you wouldn't turn down this opportunity. Besides, I'm fairly certain that none of us here wants to tangle with the guy that just chased away ol' Snowtop single handedly."
"What, that giant?"
"If you hadn't noticed, he's not just any giant, if he was, he'd be dead by now. He's probably the oldest living frost giant that we know of and he's tougher than a troll steak and almost taller than some of the smaller mountains in this area. Fortunately he seems to only wander about during these bad ice storms that usually no idiot would be caught in, but then here we are."

And here you are. You insist that you want to see Jennifer before going anywhere. Crowley takes you to see her and the few survivors. She's glad to see you're alive and hugs you. Her enthusiasm for this trip hasn't diminished and she definitely wants to go see the Eyes' home, despite the fact that you all were nearly crushed to death by a giant, though that can't be said for some of her employees. You're just glad she's all right and you're within reach of your destination.

It doesn't take too long to get to Fort Everwatch. It wasn't anywhere near Fort Defiance once stood though so its just as well that you didn't go that way. Everwatch isn't particularly large or fancy, but it does look like it was built to stand the test of time. The interior is just as utilitarian Other than symbols of an eye adorning various parts of the fort, it actually reminds you of an old Empire fort. You can't help but feel at home here despite only just entering the place.

You are brought to a great hall area and Crowley says he's going to fetch the Vision Lord. In the meantime he's tells you all to stay here, but feel free to look around.

"This is pretty exciting, I hope they'll let us take something back from this place." Jennifer says while looking at the various plaques.
"Anything's possible I suppose, but they don't look like they're much into luxuries. The only decorations here seem to be dedicated to their fallen like these plaques or those eye symbols…oh wait, they seem to have battle trophies as well, check out that giant's skull hanging high on the left wall." You remark still feeling a little wary of things.

Eventually Crowley comes back with who you guess to be the Vision Lord. The Vision Lord doesn't look particularly impressive despite his name though it is certain by the scars on his face he is no stranger to battle. You were expecting him to be a lot older though as it stands he looks about your age…well not counting your five-century nap of course.

He stares at you, Jennifer and the rest for a moment and then he points to Jennifer.

"I'm guessing you and this lot come from the Nalin Republic."
"How did you know?" Jennifer asks.
"Where else would you come from? You're certainly not from one of the six cities of Arat. They're too busy with their petty squabbles. Besides, we've come across some of your type before wandering up here. A few of them even joined our group rather than head back down."
"You recruited our explorers?!" Jennifer says.
"Yes, if they showed promise and desired to join. I'm sure you might even bump into a couple of them in this place assuming you haven't already. Now you on the other hand…you are very interesting. Your armor looks as if it comes from another time, you can cast magic with ease and I heard you fended off Snowtop all by yourself. That's a feat so impressive I can't imagine you are native to the Republic." the Vision Lord remarks and points to you.
"What I find interesting is this place and from what I can tell by your commemorations of the your fallen, you feel keeping history is important. So tell me, did Warrick have this fort built or was it sometime after his death?" you say causing some eyebrows to raise.
"You know of Vision Lord Warrick then? Not many outside our order know our founder. How did you come across this information?"
"Easy. We were practically siblings. He was an Eternal, just like I am. He wasn't a Vision Lord back then, just a Sightmaster, though I guess he felt the need to assign himself a higher title. Doesn't matter. I'm just glad to see another piece of the old Empire still alive, even if it has taken a very different form."

With this response the Vision Lord steps back and the other Eyes now begin whispering amongst themselves.

"So, the rumors are true. An Eternal does walk the earth again and it is indeed the one Vision Lord Warrick mentions in his writings. As you might expect we don't get much news this way and we don't venture too far from here, let alone Rask. In fact the few recruits we manage to get are probably our biggest source of new information. Tell me, how is it that you live?"

You explain the exact situation as vaguely as you did to Jennifer and Quintus. The cataclysm struck suddenly, you were encased in a magic shell, etc. etc. and eventually Jennifer's crew dug you up.

"I see. How unfortunate that you came in contact with the Republic first, but then I suppose it's better than being stuck in a magic coffin. Still, you're here now and I believe you will find a better home here." The Vision Lord remarks.
"What?"
"I'm inviting you to stay with us. Come now. This Order was founded by an Eternal I'm somewhat familiar with their mindset based on the writings of Vision Lord Warrick. I can only imagine the dull tedium you've endured in the Republic. How have you managed to occupy your time?"
"Do not presume you know me based on the writings of Warrick. Truth be told, he didn't exactly create the Eyes, at least not in their original form. The Eyes were originally created by this woman's great ancestor Jacob Mol." You say pointing to Jennifer.

The Vision Lord nods his head a bit.

"Apologies. I did not mean to offend. And if as you say this lady's ancestor had a hand in creating the Eyes then we've been doubly blessed by the presence of her as well. However, I do believe that you were and still are a man of battle and war. And again I can't imagine those things being in great supply in the Republic. Surely you would enjoy living here instead. You would be great asset in our own war of extermination of the wendigo. We could certainly use the help."

This is a sudden offer and certainly one you weren't expecting. The strange thing is it isn't out of the question either. A few days ago you were just going on about to Jennifer about how you were restless in the Republic even with your efforts to help restructure it into a new empire. A glorious undertaking to be sure, but one you've had doubts about recently.

Now this opportunity is certainly less impressive, but there's something alluring about its simplicity. All you would have to concern yourself with is the battle. The war. The victories over your enemies in melee combat. You'd even live in a place that's much comfortable to you.

Of course there's also Jennifer to think about, but while your relationship with her is blooming into something more romantic what future do you have with her really? She's not even like Alison in that she's a warrior and can truly connect with you on some level even if she does make the attempts.

There's also the fact that you've been worried about her the whole trip. Will you continue to worry about her and allow that to be a weakness to be exploited? If she's killed will you go through the same emotional ruin you did when Alison was murdered? Do you even want to deal with any of that again?

You tell the Vision Lord that you and he are going to have to discuss this all in more detailed before you make a decision. Jennifer looks concerned when you say this, but doesn't say anything. The Vision Lord says that while you and he talk, the rest of your group can rest up or feel free to explore as there is nothing of major value and he trusts nobody would be foolish enough to steal anything.

You speak with the Vision Lord (who reveals his name is Kells) for quite awhile on the current situation of his order as well as the history of this place and Rask in general. He also remarks about how the Eyes are so hated and feared by the wendigo. As you might've guessed magic is in play, but only to a minor degree. Over the centuries the Eyes have managed to focus their minds to create shields against wendigo mental attacks along with being able to banish them to oblivion. (Still vulnerable to normal death through wendigo hosts obviously though)

After your discussion he tells you that he'll leave you to your decision, but that he hopes you'll stay. You then speak with Jennifer about your situation; naturally she wants you to return with her and explains all reasons why. You end up sleeping on the offer and pondering everything some more, but ultimately the decision is up to you.

[User] You stay at Fort Everwatch

[Assistant]
Since you've been dug up, you've been trying to make a go of your new life and while it hasn't been all bad, you feel like ultimately you're just living a shell of your old life that's been gone a long time.

You don't belong to this time, even the new "empire" you're trying to help re-establish isn't going to be the one you knew. Maybe some things should just stay in the past.

If you stayed here at least you'd be doing something you actually felt somewhat connected to. Really the only thing you're going to possibly miss is Jennifer, but she's not enough for you to stay and she'll be better off without you in her life anyway.

No point in second guessing your decision. You're going to stay. You go tell Vision Lord Kells immediately. He's very happy.

"Excellent! Your presence here will be a great asset to the Eyes! Together we'll wipe out the wendigo completely from this land!" Kells exclaims.
"I'm sure. However, I've got one more thing to do before I join. I have to explain all this to my companion Jennifer and escort her back to Quala."
"Of course, I understand. Your official ceremony will begin when you return."

You approach Jennifer who is already packed and ready to go, but when she sees your face she already knows what you've chosen to do.

"No…no, you're not really staying are you?" she asks.
"I'm sorry Jennifer, but I just can't deal with your time anymore. I don't know maybe it's all the complicated politics or the new technology or I just feel constantly out of place, or a combination of several things, but I feel more at home here than I ever did at Nalin."
"But what about the Empire?! You're helping it live again! How can you leave now?"
"It's not my Empire and it never will be. I believe I have helped Quintus enough in getting the foundations in place if he really wants to go forth with the plan he has. If anything I'm doing him a favor by bowing out now. I probably would've only ended up killing him anyway."
"But…but…what about…"
"Us? (Sigh) I think you'd be better off with someone…well more your age for one thing, but also someone with similar interests as you. I believe you're more enamored by the idea of me."
"I'm not some idiot with a school girl crush you know! I have genuine feelings for you!" Jennifer exclaims.
"Look, I know and I have feelings for you as well, but it's just not enough and you'll be better off in the long run anyway."

Jennifer looks at you with a mixture of sadness, frustration and anger.

"…fine. You've obviously made up your mind about this. And I know how stubborn your Eternal mind works, so let's not argue about this any longer. You might be right anyway, but I think this decision of yours sucks and is ultimately selling yourself out of a good future. And I'm not talking about just us. I'm talking about all the work you put into trying to resurrect the Empire and now just walking away from it all. I thought you were a man of greatness, but I see now that you are just a man…just like the rest."

You try to tell Jennifer that you'll escort her out of Rask, but she tells you she'll be fine. Seeing that you aren't going to take no for an answer she reluctantly agrees.

Your journey out of Rask is a quiet and uneventful one. If you weren't already feeling the cold from the weather, you'd most certainly be feeling it from Jennifer who says nothing to you the whole time.

When you eventually get to the Flogger tribe borders, you part company with Jennifer and the rest. You tell your soldiers to let command know that you won't be returning and not to bother to come find you.

You try to say goodbye to Jennifer one last time, but she's already walking towards Quala with her crew. Having nothing else to do, you return to Everwatch to begin your new life.

The Eyes have a big ceremony for you and you're appointed as a Sightmaster immediately due to your vast years of experience and magic. Kells catches you up on all the procedures and a little more history, but for the most part you're still wondering if you have made the right decision.

After a month of slaying creatures and banishing wendigos you get in the swing of things and your thoughts about anything connected to Nalin start to lessen.

Within the year, you feel completely at home with only the occasional fleeting thoughts of concerns outside of Rask. Sometimes you half expect someone from Nalin to come, but nobody does. You imagine Quintus is glad to have you conveniently out of his life now (assuming he succeeded with his Empire idea without you) and Jennifer has gotten over you.

Just proves that you weren't really missed or wanted after all and you did make the right decision. At least here you feel genuinely respected and wanted.

Years go by and you settle into your routine. It's a very simple one and in time when Vision Lord Kells dies of natural causes, it's very evident that you are the one to take up the mantle.

Years become decades and Rask continues to remain fairly isolated. You sometimes wonder if Quintus was ever successful and if he's still emperor or if he failed and Nalin is still a republic. You sometimes also wonder what Jennifer is doing. One time you walked all the way to the Rask borders only to turn back, resisting the sudden urge to revisit that life.

This is your life now and you're going to stick with this one.

You do begin to have some concerns about the potential future of the Eyes. You're essentially an isolated "monk" order dedicated to wiping out dangerous monsters. Attrition through combat is not only taking its toll, but age is as well. A discussion about a potential remedy like say actively trying to go outside Rask to recruit new members is held, but ultimately nothing is done.

So ultimately you continue until eventually all that's left of the order is a few old men and yourself, also of old age by that time.

You all go out one day and never come back.


[System] Run a text-based dark fantasy adventure game. Describe the world with gritty realism, respond to player actions with narrative consequences, and maintain the tone of a world where survival is never guaranteed.

[User] You stick around

[Assistant]
You've just reconciled with your son you're not leaving now, but you're still on heightened state of agitation.

"This is my father Wolf, and his…girlfriend Mary." Lawrence says unsure of if that's actually the case. You and Mary look at each other, shrug and nod silently in agreement that it is.
"Wow, Lawrence, your family doesn't keep to your own kind. Your Dad's fucking a corpse and you're fucking my sister. Wait, you're also part human aren't you? Sheesh, you Werewolves will fuck anything that isn't another Werewolf! Can't say I blame you though! HAR HAR HAR (BURP!) I'm kidding! I'm kidding of course. Relax. Hey Irena bring your pretty little tail over here and bring me some food too!"

Okay you are REALLY close to losing it. Mary senses this and whispers to you to just calm down. It's very difficult though. Meanwhile you see Irena bring Oliver some food, Lawrence isn't paying attention as he's talking to his children, but you notice Oliver is lecherously looking at Irena the whole time. Then he begins stuffing his bloated face when Lawrence turns back around.

"Yeah, I'll be staying here awhile Lawrence; I had a couple of job set backs. Might be awhile before I can find another one. Irena said it was okay." Oliver says while food hangs from his mouth.

You knew it. You goddamn well knew it. Typical fucking Cat Person. Fucking sponge.

"Sure Oliver, you're family after all, your home is my home."
"Ah, you have my thanks Lawrence. My sister is so lucky to have such a highly motivated well to do man such as yourself. Don't know why our family disapproved so much of you, but hey at least I was at the wedding, right Irena? There to give you away, right Irena?"
"Um, yes Oliver." Irena says nervously and quickly goes back into the kitchen.

Something is seriously WRONG here. You've hung around with some shady characters and known several creepy ones, and Oliver is just oozing with both traits. Even his sister doesn't seem to like him; she seems more scared of him than anything. Like an abuse victim. You don't understand why Lawrence is letting him talk like that. You ask to see Lawrence in the next room privately.

"What's up Dad?" he asks.
"What's up with you? Why are you letting Oliver talk shit like that?"
"What Oliver? He's harmless. That's just how he is. Don't pay any attention."
"Yeah well I'm having a very hard time doing that. Look fuck all my personal feelings about what you think of your relationship with Irena, but if that's the woman you love, then you need to put Oliver in his place right now. I know damn well you HAD to inherit that trait from me."
"Dad I know your answer to everything is to kick everyone's ass that looks at you sideways, but sometimes you have to let things go. Besides Oliver's the only family member on EITHER side who supported our wedding you know. He even paid for it. He might make comments every now and then, but I know he's supportive of us."
"Lawrence, I know about letting things go, I've been doing it all damn night, but I'm telling you I can sense that he's up to no fucking good. He's been staring at his sister's tits and ass since he got here! It's like he's a psychotic stalker ex-boyfriend. I noticed Irena acting nervous around him, I'm telling you something weird went on between them and I don't think it was consensual."
"Dad! You know what the fuck you're saying?"
"Hell yes I know what the fuck I'm saying. I'm saying he's a fucking sicko and a moocher to boot. Doesn't have a job and it'll be awhile? You know what that translates into? A permanent squatter."
"Geez Dad, not all Cat People are decadent lazy inbreeders."
"Maybe not, but I'm saying HE is!"
"I don't think he is. Irena's never told me that he's ever done anything to her and I'm sure she would've, and as for the job thing, he's just been having a string of bad luck. I mean come on; you should be able to identify with how hard the job market is right now. Look Dad, I hope you can put your bigotry aside, because I wanted you to stay awhile. Even stay here for the night."

[User] You leave

[Assistant]
"Lawrence I can't put up with this, maybe you can and this is your life, but this ain't me. If you ever want to see me, that's fine, but I can't deal with this aspect of your life." You say and go back into the dining room.
"Mary come on let's go we gotta work on that movie thing."
'We're leaving?"
"Yeah, come on!"
"Alright calm down!"

When Lawrence enters the room, Oliver feels the need to make remarks again.

"Hey Lawrence your Dad here really bosses around his woman, I hope you didn't inherit that trait from him. When I gave her away I was hoping it would be to a gentleman, not a barking tyrant."
"Oliver, why the fuck did you give your sister away anyway? Was it because she was so repulsed by your appearance? Or was it because you were too much of a fucking loser to adequately provide for her?"

You just set it off in this motherfucker.

"What the fuck did you just say, you fucking mangy dog?"
"Too complicated for you? Okay. I SAID YOU'RE A FUCKING SICKO INBREEDING DRAIN ON SOCIETY! Just like your whole fucking race! You've been ogling your sister all fucking night while shoveling that food in your fat face!"
"Fucking racist! You're a narrow minded racist!" Oliver screams.
"Yeah? Well I'd rather be that, then a sick incestuous piece of worthless shit like you."
"Fuck you!" Oliver shouts and throws a fork at you. You dodge it and jump over the table. Oliver's in poor physical condition and you easily put him in poorer physical condition; that is until Mary, Lawrence and Irena get you off of him. Only Mary is strong enough to hold you back.
"Get him out of the house!" Irena shouts as the furballs go running off to hide from the mayhem.
"Yeah, stick up for that fat floor rug! Just shut out the past like it didn't happen, right?"
"Dad, stop!"
"Wolf, calm down!" Mary says.
"Ignoring the problem ain't gonna make it go away Lawrence. I thought you were smarter and more perceptive than this. I hope you realize soon, for your kids' sake."

You take your leave, with Mary apologizing quickly to Lawrence and Irena and running after you. Oliver's fat ass is still unconscious on the floor bleeding profusely. When you get to your bike, Mary is about to say something to you, but you interrupt her before she can start.

"Mary don't even start, because I'm not fucking wrong on this. You fucking saw him and how he was acting, don't tell me you didn't think he was a piece of shit pervert too."

Mary looks at you and nods. She can't help but agree with you. She'd know the signs; after all she was married to that equally depraved fucker, Frankie.

"But Wolf, shouldn't we try to do something else? I mean…"
"What else can we do Mary? I already said what I thought and kicked Oliver's ass. Lawrence and Irena are going to have to take it from there. If I meddle anymore it's just going to make things worse, if you meddle, it'll just look like you're siding with me. Its Lawrence's family, it's his life, it's his choices, he's gotta be the one to sort it out. Hopefully he makes the right one. Come on Mary let's get out of here."

Mary hops on the back of your bike and you zoom off. On the trip home Mary rests her head on the back of your shoulder while holding you and giving you a bit of a hugging squeeze every now and then. It's not really spoken, but it's apparent you and Mary are back together again, and hopefully Lawrence listens to your warning so you can someday reunite with him again as well.


[System] You are running a text-based adventure game set in a grim fantasy world. Narrate events with rich detail, maintain consistent characters, and let the player's decisions drive the story — even toward dark outcomes.

[User] You memories (Frankie)

[Assistant]
The Monster: Frankie

Dr. Victor Frankenstein made Frankie out of the parts of dead bodies as everyone knows, but what wasn't so well known at the time was he was using many of the parts from a graveyard where they buried insane asylum patients. The brain of an unstable sexual psychopath probably wasn't the best choice. Even Igor tried to tell him it was a bad idea, but of course Victor knew it all so he went ahead with playing God. Victor probably wouldn't have named his creation after himself if he knew what Frankie was going to do.

Frankie had a… let's say unhealthy interest in little girls.

He also was an idiotic bully who would try to push anyone around who was smaller. You're all for the survival of the fittest ideology and might makes right. Hell you live by it. But you didn't like the way he acted since he was a real pussy when someone actually stood up to him. You also didn't like him because when he came on the scene, all of a sudden he was number two. It was bad enough you had to play second fiddle to that fucking bloodsucker, but NOW you were getting pushed out of the spotlight from some child molesting, walking stitch work of corpses. Fortunately he tripped up his popularity somewhat when the public became suspicious of his little "secret". Yet despite being a sicko, he still somehow managed to draw in the money, you hated even being in the same "rank" as him.

You've never liked the undead as a rule, but Frankie was particularly loathsome to you. He always claimed he was "misunderstood" and couldn't help the way he was. He couldn't understand why some people hated him and chased him away with pitchforks and attempted to set him on fire.

"Duh, it's because you're a goddamn pedophile you sick fuck." as you so delicately explained one time.


[System] Narrate an interactive dark fantasy adventure. The world is brutal and unforgiving. Respond to the player's actions with vivid, immersive descriptions and let their choices carry real weight.

[User] You take the detour through the village

[Assistant]
"Come on, you shout," running towards the village.

Your hands push tree branches out of the way as you leave the path, almost tripping as your legs catch in the undergrowth, but manage to keep going. You stumble into the village, grabbing the corner of the house to steady yourself, as the werewolves charge into the village. Thankfully, a few peasants have been caught with their doors barely barricaded. The werewolves smash through hastily nailed planks and into the huts inside to devour a feast of flesh, bone, brains and organs. You hear horrified screams as the beasts get distracted and begin to tear apart the poor souls who have been left inside.

"Ah!" Mikhail screams, as one of the more focused hunters knocks him to the ground with its claw.

"Shit, Mikhail! Samuel, cover me!" Lucas says, skidding to a halt to help his brother.

[User] You help the twins

[Assistant]
You grab the bolt of your rifle, pulling it back as you twist around and firing. The gun flies back in your hand as the recoil almost knocks you back as the werewolf takes the shot to its center mass, being knocked off Mikhail and letting out a high-pitched whimper as it quickly retreats back to the safety of the shadowy trees. Lucas grabs Mikhail. pulling him up to his feet as he joins you in running. As the werewolves are distracted with their prey, you continue sprinting towards the tower.

Unfortunately, you see one of the werewolves stand in the center of the village. It's larger than the others, its fur white and its eyes red. It stares at you for a second, before it lets out a powerful, booming howl. The other werewolves emerge from the buildings, blood matting their fur and dripping from their claws. The Alpha Male drops to all fours and begins sprinting away towards you, followed by the others.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Lucas says, as you see the castle.

You sprint, the only noise being your heavy panting and the thudding of boots and clawed feet on the earth. You reach the castle, sprinting through the gates and past the carriages parked there. You see the portcullis' control wheel to your left, and the heavy wooden door to the keep to your right.

[User] You close the portcullis

[Assistant]
You grab the wheel, freeing it of its latch and stepping back as the wheel frantically spins around. the portcullis smashing into the carriage in the middle of the gate. Although the carriage's roof is smashed, it prevents the portcullis from closing completely. The werewolves arrives, bursting under the gate and into the grounds. You frantically head to the door, before a massive bundle of flesh and fur smashes into you, shattering your bones. You painfully smash into the ground, looking up to see a massive, white werewolf sitting atop your broken body. It stares down at you, it's blood red eyes filled with an animalistic hunger, devoid of any sentience beyond that of the wolf it's body has morphed to imitate.

You close your eyes. Thankfully, this beast doesn't like to play with its food, and finishes you quickly.


[System] Narrate an interactive dark fantasy adventure. The world is brutal and unforgiving. Respond to the player's actions with vivid, immersive descriptions and let their choices carry real weight.

[User] You open the first door

[Assistant] Well the evil lord of the tower sure knows his European languages. You choose your door and turn the door knob but before you can open it, the suit of armour that guards your door plunges his spear into your back and it pierces all the way through your body, coming out of your chest. The spear also happens to be the stick on which his flag was attached and so you get to watch the little bloodstained flag flapping about before you slump to the ground and die.


[System] You are the game master of a dark fantasy text adventure. The world is dangerous and choices matter. Narrate with immersive detail and let the story unfold naturally from the player's decisions.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
After making it safely into Cape Town the Bounty spends nearly a month resupplying and repairing storm damage, allowing you plenty of time to enjoy the delights of that port. You set sail again on the first day of July and the following month you arrive at Adventure Bay on the island of Tasmania to the south of Australia. You pause there again to re-supply and sail on again in September bound for Tahiti. Spirits are high on board as you near your destination.

Unfortunately, you and another sailor called James Valentine begin to develop a breathing problem, sometimes after exertion you find you have difficulty catching your breath. You and Valentine decide to see the Ship's Surgeon, a heavy-drinking red-faced fat man called Thomas Huggan, who seems rather surprised to be consulted on something medical. Huggan examines you both, wheezing the whole time, and when he has finished he wipes the sweat off his face and gulps down a glass of rum.

"Internal disorder of some kind," he tells you both. "Probably too much blood in your spleens. If you would let me open a vein I will bleed you both about a pint and this will relieve the pressure on your organs, you'll be up and down the rigging free as birds then."

You and Valentine exchange glances.

[User] You politely decline

[Assistant]
You politely refuse and Huggan shrugs, fetches a dirty scalpel and slices Valentine's arm open. Blood sprays out over the walls and a startled Huggan desperately staunches the bleeding with a stained rag. He bandages Valentine's arm but the damage is done. Over the following days the wound continues first to bleed, then to ooze and Valentine becomes increasingly faint and weak. Soon his entire arm is black and green.

Within days Valentine is consigned to his bunk, feverish and fading. Huggan is powerless to do anything, when Bligh learns of the situation he rages at the Surgeon in the most violent language possible. Valentine continues to weaken and dies late one night. A somber mood descends over the whole crew as he is sewn into his hammock and the following morning it is cast into the sea. You sit next to his body on the first night thinking grimly how that could have been you.

[User] You sinking spirits

[Assistant]
Valentine's death sends the crew's spirits plunging low and Bligh decides to raise morale by instructing the crew to dance a jig to the tunes of a half-blind fiddler he has brought on board. The last thing the crew feel like doing is dancing but the sailors obligingly force themselves to their feet and dance wearily to the tunes the fiddler plays. You are dancing when you notice two men are remaining seated.

William Brown, a mild scientific man who Bligh brought on board as a botanist to take care of the breadfruit plants is talking quietly to John Mills the Gunner's Mate, a tough and unfriendly older man. You see Fletcher Christian go over and encourage them to dance but Mills shakes his head emphatically and Brown lowers his head. Christian shrugs and walks away.

[User] You join the two men in their refusal

[Assistant]
You walk over and sit next to Mills but you have been spotted.

Bligh yells for the music to stop and strides towards you three.

"Why are you not dancing like the others?" he demands.

"It does not seem like an appropriate time for that," Brown says quietly.

"Damn you for contemptible rascals," Bligh cries. "All three of you will have your grog stopped from now until we reach Tahiti."

Mills glares back at him with a half-smile on his face as Bligh turns, returns to his former position near the helm and orders the fiddler to keep playing. The punishment is a harsh one but not as bad as it could have been: a week later you reach Tahiti.

[User] You tahiti

[Assistant]
You are all relieved when the beautiful tree-lined round island of Tahiti is spotted. Bligh has been getting on everyone's nerves: he is no longer on speaking terms with Sailing Master Fryer, Surgeon Huggan or the Carpenter William Purcell and he has been grating the nerves of most of the rest of the crew. It is with relief that Tahiti is sighted and within hours hundreds upon hundreds of canoes packed with scantily clad but cheering Tahitian men and women surround the Bounty. The women are a particularly lovely sight.

After a week anchored offshore Bligh sends Christian to lead a party of nine ashore in the ship's cutter to begin setting up tents and making a camp for the crew to use while they gather the breadfruit. You are part of this group and are left with another sailor called John Adams to guard the boats. Adams is a clever young fellow and the two of you are chatting when you notice a pair of young ladies eying you from behind some nearby huts. When they see you looking they glance at each other and giggle.

Like all Tahitians they are dark skinned and wear nothing above the waist, their full breasts and brown nipples peep out shyly between the strands of their long black hair. They seem to have more than a casual interest in you and Adams nudges you in the side and points at the women grinning. He suggests you go over, introduce yourselves and keep the young ladies company for a while.

[User] You go and get acquainted with the young ladies

[Assistant]
With a shrug you go over with Adams to meet the two young ladies. With many smiles they lead you into an empty hut where they offer you some fruit and nut snacks and begin examining your skin and clothes. They don't mind your touching them and when you kiss them they seem to like it and kiss you back. Before things can get too interesting you hear Christian calling your name outside and with a curse you and Adams give your new friends a goodbye kiss and hurry outside.

Christian is all smiles and thanks you both for doing your bit to improve England's relationship with the Tahitian people, with embarrassed smiles and to the, slightly jealous, quips of your companions you row back to the Bounty for the evening. Bligh talks to Christian after you arrive and as you and Adams are clearing the boat after swinging it in he suddenly gives a high-pitched yelp.

"A gudgeon is missing!" he exclaims. "You damned fools, where is the aft gudgeon?"
You and Adams both look for the little metal tube that fixes to part of the rudder but it is indeed missing. Inevitably Bligh fetches Christian, who reluctantly confirms that you both left the boats unattended for a short time. Bligh yells at Christian before inevitably sentencing you both to twelve lashes each for the disappearance of the little metal tube.

Later as you lie down in your hammock, your back burning, you reflect that you are really beginning to hate that man.

[User] You discontent

[Assistant]
The Bounty remains anchored in Matavai Bay for the next month while every day Bligh, Christian or Fryer lead a party of men ashore to gather breadfruit trees. You get the impression that the men are working deliberately slowly to prolong their stay on Tahiti, as often as they are able the men contrive to spend time with the Tahitians in their villages. All of the Natives are extremely friendly and the women remarkably so. Christian and, surprisingly, Bligh are fairly relaxed about these interactions between the crew and the women but after a year at sea it would have been very unwise to try to restrain the men.

Bligh inevitably tries however. One day you are a part of a party that is working even more slowly than usual and Bligh is becoming irritable and orders you all to work faster. Repeatedly a sailor called Matthew Thompson, an older and extremely tough man keeps demanding, increasingly more insistently that he be allowed to go into the village. Bligh continues to refuse him. Finally, Thompson has had enough.

"Damn you sir," he growls. "If you were any sort of officer you would know better than to deny your men what they want."

There is stunned silence following this outburst.

[User] You join Thompson in criticising Bligh

[Assistant]
You speak up, agreeing with Thompson that is the way the whole crew feels. Bligh has gone very pale.

"Damn you for mutinous dogs," he growls. "Quartermaster, twelve lashes each!"

The lash is fetched, the blows are landed and your back is transformed into agony. Sullen and muttering the crew return once more to the Bounty.

[User] You defiance

[Assistant]
Work continues on gathering the breadfruit plants while the crew members continue to enjoy the hospitality and affections of the local people. As well as the company of the women they now have strong locally-brewed alcohol to enjoy, though such gatherings have to be kept secret when Bligh is ashore. The lure of strong alcohol succeeds in drawing the overweight surgeon Huggan from his cabin (which he has rarely left for the last year) and he comes ashore.

The Tahitians find the fat, red-faced man great fun and the men insist on plying him with more and more alcohol. Finally, it is getting late and Christian, who is part of the party though not drinking himself, informs everyone it is time to return to the ship or risk the wrath of Bligh. Most of the men stumble to their feet and stagger towards the boat but Huggan is too far gone. Making a rude comment about Bligh he tells Christian to leave him there.

Christian licks his lips nervously. Huggan as a Surgeon is a fellow officer and Christian has no authority to order him back to the ship, on the other hand Bligh is sure to notice his absence and punish Huggan in some way. When Christian points this out Huggan laughs and again voices uncomplimentary views about your Commander. Christian shrugs, turns to you and suggests you come back.

[User] You join Huggan on an all-night bender

[Assistant]
You refuse and Christian reluctantly leads his party back to the ship. All that night you and Huggan down cup after cup of the burningly strong local spirits. The Tahitian men may be used to the strong alcohol but you not so much. Some time before dawn you lie down on your back and pass out. When the inevitable vomit comes your mouth is closed and it remains in your mouth and throat.

You suffocate and choke to death as the morning sun rises over this tropical paradise.


[System] Narrate a dark fantasy text adventure. The setting is harsh and morally complex. Describe scenes vividly, react to player choices with fitting consequences, and never shy away from the reality of the world.

[User] You kill Grolik

[Assistant]
You level the sword, the placing the tip on Grolik's chest.  Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, Galik may be wild but you should be able to keep him in check.

"Really Nolazir?" Grolik says, "is this really what you're doing?"

Grolik's stare pierces you, his glare hard enough to cut steel and his voice unwavering.

"If this is really what you're doing," Grolik says, "Gigalak help me you better make sure I'm dead because if I make it out of this I'm coming for you bo-"

You grab his shoulder as hard as you can, thrusting the sword into his chest and through his heart.  Grolik's face scrunches up in pain, but only for a moment.  His eyes roll into the back of his head and he falls to the side.

Holding the sword, you stare at the bloody blade.  The weight of what you have done not quite hitting you, and this weapon of death seeming foreign for a moment.

As you lower the sword to your side, a hand slams into your shoulder.

"Hahaha!" Galik says, "good job Nolazir!  Guess he wasn't so tough after all, let's see him come back to get us from this one!"

Forcing yourself to laugh, you walk off with Galik, who starts to talk about some strategies.

[User] You conflict

[Assistant]
In the following days, chaos has erupted throughout the camp.  The Red Handed and their allies dispersed themselves throughout the camp, then without warning began to butcher as many of your orcs as they could.

Trapped by a cliff behind you and the bulk of the late Grolik's forces ahead of you, the only viable cover is the rocks and wagons you hide behind.  They have a pretty good grip on the main camp area.  Once they finish fighting the rest of the camp, they will surely overwhelm you at any moment.

Arrow after arrow thuds into the wagon.  You fire an arrow back under one of the wheels, unsure of where the hell it landed.  In front of you the tents burn and the sounds of fighting ring throughout.  You didn't know there were so damn many of them until last night.

The minor nicks, scratches, and bruises you've received from fighting your way out pulsate through your body.  Galik sits next to you, nursing a grievous injury in his side.

As you, Galik, and the rest of the orcs fought your way through, some orc chucked a javelin into Galik's side.  It went through pretty deeply and you are surprised that he is still alive, although he won't be if you do not get him treatment soon.  Even then his chances are probably slim.

You witnessed Hidius walking out of his tent to see the commotion, and immediately was stabbed in the chest before you could help.  Silak fought valiantly to defend his dying chief, but was ultimately overwhelmed.

Gro'tesk might be dead by now, you didn't see what became of him.  You're not too sure about Rolomag either for that matter.  You had not seen him since late yesterday, and as far as you know he wanted to speak with Gro'tesk.  So they're either standing together or already dead.

Gasping and panting, Galik stands up and directs some of the orcs around you.

"You, crawl that way," he says, "and you, keep shooting damn it!"

He kneels and grips another orc by the shoulder.

"Finish this up, damn it!"

A team of orcs furiously work on a contraption similar to the siege breakers you constructed during the war with the Wister Elves.  Actually, you recognize a lot of the orcs around you from those days.

Galik slumps against the wagon, gritting his teeth.

"Nolazir," he says, "we're going to try to break through.  We'll have archers at the sides covering you, follow us, and when we get close enough break out and rush them."

While the path you have to go is pretty narrow, you're sure this will only lead to your doom.  Well, so would sitting here eventually.

[User] You follow Galik's Lead

[Assistant]
"Yes Chief," you say, "bring one of these shields."

Luckily, one of the wagons happened to have a bunch of weapon and shield supplies in it.  Galik hands the shield back to you.

"Gigalak will shield me," he says, "besides, I don't know how much longer this dressing will hold without my hand."

"I'll see this through to the end with you," you say.

As the orcs finish up the siege breaker, you all get into position.  A few orcs begin the slow push, as Galik stands in the middle of it barking orders and taking cover.  Raising your shield you get into the column, a couple of arrows already hitting and bouncing off your shield.

You all make a sort of wall with the shields, but many orcs are still struck down.  Some of yours fire arrows over the shields and the siege breaker, a few even managing to kill or wound some of your foes.

As you get closer, you see the Red Handed preparing to charge.  You brace yourself for their attack.

[User] You use your bow

[Assistant]
You hand an orc your shield, as his is riddled with arrows.  Getting behind him, you notch an arrow to your bow.  Taking aim as the orcs ahead cry out and begin their charge.  Even as you aim, an arrow glances off your cheekbone, but it does not sway you.  You release your first arrow, the receiving orc stumbling and falling still.

The gleam of bloodlust in your eyes, you fire arrow after arrow.  Mostly killing and wounding offending orcs.  When your quiver runs out, you start ripping arrows out of the shield on the ground next to you, using the projectiles that haven't broken.

The Red Handed push into your line, many of your orcs rushing forward to take them on.  They actually hold them off pretty well for a good while.  But as they exhaust and succumb to their injuries, you see there is no way you will win this.

You push forward with the orc in front of you as they start to surround Galik, making a desperate attempt to get to him.  The orc in front of you drops you his quiver and heroically dashes into the fray, almost immediately he is beat down and killed by your enemies.

You move forward with the other archers, roaring as you make your way to your leader.  As the Red Handed flood around him, he has no choice but to climb atop the siege breaker.  Orc after orc is cut down trying to get to him.

You charge forward, deflecting a sword with your bow.  The orc's face crunches as you smash the bow into his face, the heavy wooden weapon turning his face into red mush.  You throw it at the next, which doesn't do much but give you an opportunity to axe him in the neck.

Before you can do anything, Galik takes a spear jab in the back.  Two orcs climb up and one grabs him, the other using his dagger to stab the shit out of him.

You hook the axe shoulder behind the knee of one of those lawless scum, arcing it back around and slamming it into his face.  As the orc sputters and cries out, you try to pull the axe out, but it won't budge.  The bastard even grips the top part of the handle, pushing it deeper into his face.

You struggle with him until you feel a heavy pain in your chest.

"Argh!"

Above you, a Red Handed quickly retracts his spear.  You roar as you charge up, but the dying orc below grabs your leg, causing you to fall.  The orc with the spear begins to stab you in the back, as other orcs stab you and beat you down with clubs.

You cry out in pain and anger, but you are too weak to do anything else.  In moments you are left to die, broken, bloody, and bleeding out….


[System] You are narrating an interactive fiction game in a dark fantasy setting. Bring the world to life with vivid prose, react meaningfully to player choices, and don't pull punches when the story demands it.

[User] You run into one of the buildings

[Assistant]
You duck into the nearest building and hope you don't bump into anything inside. From what's left of it, it looks like a regular office building, similar to the one you used to work in. You find a relatively secluded office and lay low, hoping to hear the mob of freaks pass by the building. You really need to get out of this place. What the hell was Harry thinking sending you here, there's nothing here except death…well actually you just answered your own question.

As the time passes, you think to yourself that the three stooges must've assumed you dead and left by now. They probably ran off when they heard your gunshots echo through the city. You were going to leave the Compound anyway, so you guess you've done that, now you just have to get out of this city alive and you'll be safe…well safer anyway.

You explore a little bit of the building which has four floors, fortunately none of them inhabited. The fourth floor is exposed to the outside air and partially destroyed, so you don't linger too long, you never know who or WHAT might be watching. You do notice that it's getting to be night time though. You don't hear anything anymore maybe you should leave now, you really don't want to be here any longer than you have to be and its not just the crazed cannibals either, it's the fact you're standing in a radiated city with just a suit on that's probably not protecting you from all the damage your chromosomes are experiencing every second you stick around.

Then again running through the city at night is probably even more dangerous than running through it during the day.

[User] You leave now

[Assistant]
The longer you stay, the more likely you're going to get attacked again, and you certainly don't want to fall asleep here. You take a quick look outside one of the completely destroyed windows and see if the nearby street is empty and make haste. Of course its night and with no working lighting you can't see too well, so you're relying mainly on the moon to light your way. You try to retrace your steps back from where you came from, but all these damn streets look the same in the dark even with the dim moonlight, you end up taking the incorrect one and it isn't until you run into a blind alley that you realize you've made the wrong turn in more ways than one.

"Do you want to see my dolly? It's soft and pink…just like yoooooooooou." Some sort of mutant freak lying against the wall says to you holding some sort of plush toy.
"Holy fuck!" you shout as you're caught off guard, and waste not time in shooting the damn thing. Unfortunately you bring about unwanted attention, and more figures start to appear nearby, you can't get a good look at them, but their glowing eyes don't look friendly.

You start running and firing again, but to your great surprise, some of them fire back! They're also better shots, having night vision and all.

Your last moments are somewhat merciful though since you die of the gunshot wounds first as you hear the insane victory sounds the mutants are making as they approach your bloody body.


[System] Narrate a dark fantasy text adventure. The setting is harsh and morally complex. Describe scenes vividly, react to player choices with fitting consequences, and never shy away from the reality of the world.

[User] You are an Adept of Ice.

[Assistant]
Your drowsiness threatens to take over, but it would be most unlogical to give in to the desire to sleep, for it would be much likely to be the last thing you would ever do.

Instead, you use the cool air and the cold ground to refresh your body and your mind. This is your type of energy, after all.

Suddenly, you notice movement at the corner of your vision, and immediatley, your senses clear and you are full awake. Remaining still as to pretend being still asleep, you notice that three goblins are sneaking up to you.

Without further hesitation, you lash out your right hand into the direction of one, and with a simple yet effective weave freeze his heart. The goblins' companions gasp in surprise as their comrade simply falls over without another sound at your gesture, and they turn to flee immediatley.

Not pausing, you stand up and run after them in pursuit, before they fetch more companions.


[System] You are narrating an interactive fiction game in a dark fantasy setting. Bring the world to life with vivid prose, react meaningfully to player choices, and don't pull punches when the story demands it.

[User] You let Mom and sis work it out themselves

[Assistant]
You seriously can't expect these two to work it out themselves without your help! You were the architect in all this and now you've just going to abandon your project? You're either naively optimistic or you don't want it bad enough. In either case your lack of commitment shows in a spectacular way.

Your Mom and sister eventually start disagreeing in a physical way, when this occurs you attempt to break them up. Unfortunately Mom happened to have a butcher knife at the time, you get in the way and Mom accidently stabs you right in the throat.

You feel a sharp pain briefly then you feel nothing...


[System] Narrate an interactive dark fantasy adventure. The world is brutal and unforgiving. Respond to the player's actions with vivid, immersive descriptions and let their choices carry real weight.

[User] You steal weapons from Drake's truck and confront the cultists

[Assistant]
"We need to get the weapons in Drake's truck. We get them and use the advantage of surprise to fend off the rest of the group."

Becca nods with determination, and you swivel around in the darkness, heading back towards the truck. As you head towards the camp, you can hear the sound of Sheriff Buckly berating Lucy.

"You fucking bitch! Louis was a good friend of mine!"

You sneak forward, staying low and moving as quickly as you can, avoiding stepping on anything that would make noise and disturb the cultists. Eventually, you reach the pick-up truck, Drake''s lifeless body lying alongside it. You lean in through the window, grabbing one of the large revolvers Drake brought. You pull it out, pulling the hammer back and flicking the safety off. Thankfully, many years of FPS games have given you some help in this. You take a deep breath, and stand, aiming your weapon at Sheriff Buckly. He turns, and grins.

"Hiya. Why don't you just drop the weapon, darlin'?"

"Fuck you."

Yuo fire your revolver, but the hollow click eats into your soul as you realize it's empty. Lucy fires her gun, and realizes it's the same thing.

"Taking the ammo from the guns was one of the first things I did. I'm the only one who gets to have a gun."

He grins, raising his gun, and fires, the bullet embedding itself in your skull.


[System] You are the game master of a dark fantasy text adventure. The world is dangerous and choices matter. Narrate with immersive detail and let the story unfold naturally from the player's decisions.

[User] You threaten Cain

[Assistant]
"No."

"No?"

"No. I don't think you understand the nature of the offer I'm giving you. I'm letting you live. Whenever I want, I could have every single man under your command strangled to death by your collars, blown apart or force you to tear each other apart. You're going to follow my orders, or you're going to die."

You prepare yourself for Cain to strike, but he only lets out a low, rumbling growl.

"What was that?" you ask suspiciously.

"An order," Cain snarls.

Suddenly, a massive fist smashes into your back. You fly forward, smacking into the operating table and onto the ground. You let out a pitiful moan, before Cain puts his massive foot on your head.

"What orders do you have for me?" he asks.

Cain attempts a triumphant yet terrifying smile. The corners of his mouth twist unnaturally high, revealing rows of serrated teeth, curved fangs, massive molars and many other weird, odd teeth, protruding from bloody, rotten gums. Cain raises his foot, before bringing it down and crushing your head.


[System] You are the game master of a dark fantasy text adventure. The world is dangerous and choices matter. Narrate with immersive detail and let the story unfold naturally from the player's decisions.

[User] You endor

[Assistant]
As they landed on the planet of Endor, they heard the shrill cries of Ewoks.

"We must help them!" Gabri shouted.  Ka left the Y-wing and Gabri followed.  They searched the dense trees until they found a small group-only three-of Ewoks.  They were closed in by a horde of stormtroopers.  A lifeless Ewok body lay beside them.  They were whimpering and cowering like small children.  Ka stayed back but  Gabri leaped out of the underbrush.  He had always questioned himself of who was truly the defenders of the galaxy: Jedi or Sith.  But seeing those Ewoks, and seeing the motionless body, he knew it was the Jedi.  They were the great ones, the ones who helped the harsh worlds.  As he attacked the stormtroopers, he knew he was a Jedi.  And a loyal one at that.