[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 follow the wolf

[Assistant]
You walk after the wolf, as it howls skyward and runs. You head forward, as it begins to morph into a strange space marine wearing an ancient power armor, with a wolf hide over his shoulder. The scene changes to a battleground, as you watch as similar space marines fight against those clad in the red and gold Khalid wore.

You see Khalid fighting, as he ducks under a bolter round. He fires a burst of flames, engulfing another wolf-marine who howls in pain, collapsing.

"Death to traitors!" a voice howls from the wolf-marines.

"You will not kill my brothers! You will not destroy my planet!" Khalid roars. "You don't understand! Horus is the traitor!"

A wolf-marine attempts to kill Khalid with his chainsword, but Khalid kills him with a burst of energy.

"STOP! The Emperor wouldn't do this to us! We are loyal! We're your brothers! Please!" Khalid screams.

Suddenly, a massive pyramid materializes next to yous. Thousands of civilians are fleeing up the ramps inside. Then, a massive explosion tears through it, as a fireball engulfs all the civilians inside and fleeing into it.

"NO!" Khalid screams, as a cry of "Traitor!" comes from both sides.

With that, Khalid lets out a fierce scream of psychic energy, charging forward. The room gently fades to black.


[System] You are the narrator of a dark fantasy text adventure. Describe the world and its consequences with unflinching detail. The player's choices shape the story — for better or worse.

[User] In a mutant-infested area

[Assistant]
You teleport, and find yourself in one of the many mutant-infested shit holes of the ship. This is one of the few you actually know, hence it being your teleportation destination, as you fought through it with a group of One-Eyed Crows to secure it for the mutineers. Here, the throngs of semi-sentient mutants work on monitors designed to be so simple a toddler could use it, which is fortunate because it requires the maximum intellectual effort of these idiots. The terminal control the air regulations, not for anyone important but for another groups of mutant workers to be used at any moment.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Meliodas cries. "Perfect, Karth! Perfect!"

The mutants are quickly informed of your presence by Kyros' choked screams. Their primal instincts immediately take over, as they begin to swarm you. Tentacles, claws, hands, feet, teeth, fangs, horns and spines all attack you both. Kyros sccreams, his focus broken instantly, as the Warp currents dissipate around him. You roll out of the way of their attacks, quickly flying forward out of their grasp with a burst of psychic energy. The vital role of this section means that there's a maintenance elevator, which you spot. You run towards it, lifting up the gate and rolling under it, your hand shooting up to press the big red elevator button with an upward pointing arrow. The elevator reacts immediately by the grace of the Dark Gods, or the God-Emperor, or the Universe itself.

Kyros screams, as the mutants begin to tear him apart. His energy his been expended fighting you and trying to open the Warp portals, he's left expended and unable to fight back, or focus, or do anything he lets out a pitiful scream, before the elevator brings you out of sight from him.

You take in a deep breath, slumping against the wall. That shit took a lot out of you. You hear Kyros' screams in the distance, and smile. There's something vaguely poetic about this. Kyros, the man who claimed to champion the rights of the people, freeing mankind from oppression and getting rid of the prejudice towards psykers, mutants and others that differed to the Imperium's perfect view of man, killed by the mutants he subjugated for their mutant status and enslaved. Beautiful.

You lean your head against the wall, taking a deep breath. You need some rest.

[User] You head back to your room

[Assistant]
You walk into your bedroom, immediately collapsing on your bed. You wonder how you could possibly fall asleep, as you put your head against the pillow and close your eyes.

"Karth!" a voice says.

You roll over, seeing Fay standing by the doorway. A blood-soaked bandage is wrapped around her elbow and a bloody machete is in her hands.

"What?" you ask, as Fay smiles.

"So, this is where you've been hiding," she says, walking over to you.

"Hiding? I literally just got here. I killed Kyros," you add, in some attempt at nonchalance.

"Just got here? You've been sleeping for hours!" she says. "We cleared up the remaining Kyros loyalists. Most just surrendered after Kyros was killed."

"You found the body?" you ask.

"We were actually hoping for your help with that. We can't find it. Where was he killed?"

"How do you know he's dead?" you ask, rubbing your eyes in an effort to stay awake.

"A few of the Chaos Psykers felt his powerful, bright soul go out. I assumed you had killed him. They said they still felt your presence, thank... whoever the hell's looking out for us. Part of me thought they were wrong until I actually found you here. What happened?"

"We ended up in some mutant-occupied area. They tore him apart. Area... 3C-QP... fuck, I have no idea. I'll remember eventually."

"Commander Fay, report in!" a voice crackles on the radio.

"I found him," Fay says. "Give me a few minutes, and we'll meet up to search for surviving loyalists."

Fay tosses the radio aside, smiling at you. She sits on the edge of the bed, tossing her machete on the floor.

"So, we did it. We killed Kyros!" she smiles.

"We did," you smile.

"We're a far way from a magical, crippled Uwais and a scared, naked Azajaja," she says, smiling.

"Damn right. We need to meet with the others."

"Later, Karth. Get some sleep. I need to do some work. We'll meet up in the morning."

"Happily," you say, your head smacking into the pillow, as Fay laughs as she grabs her blade and strolls out the door.

Time to sleep.

[User] A New Dawn...

[Assistant]
A New Dawn...

You stroll into the bridge, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The others are already there, staring out the window at a massive yellow dwarf star. Drake Amadeus is at the main seat, impatiently tapping on the seat. Two Tribals stand on either side of him, both as bodyguards and prison guards.

The others, who look out the window, turn to look at you. They immediately break into applause, and you smile as you walk forward. Captain Hayes nods in respect, Durge makes a loud, clanging attempt to clap with the metal spikes that act as his arms, while Elios smiles, immediately taking the opportunity to put a hand on your shoulder, which immediately runs along your chest towards your genitals until you gently push him away. The sound of canned clapping comes from the speakers, presumably from Primus, causing you to laugh. Elizabeth claps as well, as Cain stares in confusion at the clapping people, before shrugging and joining in with a booming thunder, as the Twins applaud. Fay hugs you tightly, before you hush the group down.

"You took out Kyros," Elizabeth says. "Impressive."

"I don't need anymore praise," you say. "We need to discuss what's to become of the hsip."

"When you live for as long as I have, you'll know to appreciate the good moments, not just rush ahead," Durge says.

"We have a Gloriana-class battleship, an army, and absolute freedom. The world is... no, the galaxy is ours," Fay says, smiling.

You stare out the window, basked in the warm golden sunlight, and for the first time since Kyros' landed on your planet, you feel completely free.

The galaxy is yours.


[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 let's go back...

[Assistant]
You make a U-turn in the middle of the deserted road and make your way to where you struck the man. Your hands are shaking and you feel confused as to what just happened.

"Do you think he still might be alive?" asks Alice looking as scared as you do.

Her head darts around looking for any sign of the man.

"No way!!" you reply.

You drive over the area twice and only find a piece of cardboard with some words written on it. Getting out, you retrieve the piece of cardboard and hold up against the headlight beams. You can make out the phrase: "Thanks for the ride..."

You get back in the van and drive on.

"Must have been a hitchhiker." you say to Alice "We can report the accident when we get to a town."

You drive on.

[User] You drive on...

[Assistant]
"It's strange that anybody would be out on this old dusty road in the middle of the night." you think as you start to pick up speed.

Soon, Alice is asleep in the passenger seat. You turn on the radio hoping to pick up a news station but nothing but static crackles through the 6x9 speakers. You hit the "CD" button and AC/DC's "Highway to Hell" comes on.

"Nice..." you think. "This should keep me awake until we get to a town.

The music drowns out the thud you DON'T hear from in the back seats of the van.

While jammin' to the tunes supplied by your newly aquired ride, you feel something cold against your throat. You look in the rearview mirror and almost scream.

Staring back is the man you hit on the road. He is wearing a wool beanie on his head and an orange jacket (like the ones the road crews wear). He is not looking to healthy since you smacked him with your van. One of his eyes is missing and his face is spattered with blood. His left cheek looks crushed and his jaw snaps when he opens his mouth to say...Thanks for the ride!...before he plunges the knife into your throat.

~THE END~

You got the "Creepshow 2" ending.


[System] You are the narrator of a dark fantasy text adventure. Describe the world and its consequences with unflinching detail. The player's choices shape the story — for better or worse.

[User] You no, you can't. You have to do something.

[Assistant]
You sit up and kneel on the branch. From that position, you watch for a moment, counting their numbers. Altogether, they're about four dozen. You've fought those odds before... Then again, you had your companions by your side. Even then, you can fight like a cornered animal if you try hard enough. Time to see if you still have it.

You pull your sword from your back and ready it, then jump down in a swing. The momentum of your fall slices right through three different men before they could even react. Their heads split right open like overripe watermelons, and the sword carries on through their bodies, cleaving them in half messily. Blood and guts cover your blade.

The others all stop their march and back away immediately, staring in awe at the mess you just created. There's an intense stare down between you and all of their numbers. Some have fear in their eyes, others anger, an odd few even respect. Most? A mixture of the three. The seconds tick by slowly, painfully, neither you nor the bandits wanting to make the first move, then...

"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!?" a gruff voice calls out. "ATTACK!"

Then, they're swarming you while yelling and swinging their weapons in a panic. You bring down a few with a single swing. A few cuts and stabs get through your defense. An arrow pierces your left bicep. Still, you fight madly, like an unchained beast.

Soon, you're attacking and defending on pure instinct. Adrenaline carries you as your body moves on its own. Too tired to think clearly. Can only act.

But it's in the repetition of swing, block, swing, block, that you find time to reflect.

What are you doing here?

Why are you doing this?

When did you go from being a hero to callously slaying bandits in the woods?

You're hurt. You're cold. You're hungry. You're tired. You're afraid.

But something still carries you.

That intense desire to live.

Like a flame that won't die out.

The question is...

Should the flame stay lit?

[User] The passion has died. You need to let go of your pitiful life.

[Assistant]
You're past your prime. Nothing you do will make a difference in this world. It's time to let an old man die before he does something too rash.

Slowly, you stop fighting. More attacks get through your defenses. Fewer of your hits connect. Soon, it's just you standing there taking their punishment. A sword gets driven through your back. A spear impales you through the abdomen. An arrow flies into your throat.

Soon enough, you're nothing but a battered and unrecognizable corpse, lying in the road. You took 21 of their number with you. Nearly half their forces. They regard your corpse with a begrudging sense of respect. No one has given them such a fight before.

You're left slumped against a tree, sword in your lap. No one who passes through dares disturb your corpse, and soon, the earth retakes you.

THE END


[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 concentrate on the two 'Lords' above you, hit their minds hard enough and you could get away or even defeat them

[Assistant]
You mentally lash out at the Lords above you again and once more find their defenses holding you at bay. You concentrate on just one of them and try to force you way in, putting all your anger and rage into the attack. You feel his defenses buckling under the pressure but then you find the problem with your plan.

While you concentrated on your attack you stopped moving.

Nate the Sentinel did not stop moving.

You feel the impact and turn back to your normal senses just in time to register that your right arm and ribcage is crushed and you are flying at a tremendous speed directly at the wall.

You impact with a sickeningly hard crunch and feel more ribs breaking. "Oh dear me folks, the Lords just indicated to me that instead of fighting Nate, the idiot tried to attack our rulers! That left him wide open for Nate's punch! Give the man a hand though, I never seem anything that didn't turn into jelly at one of those hits never mind still be moving!"

You cough up blood and stagger to your feet. Just in time for Nate to reach you again. You even see the punch coming but can't get out of the way in time and take it full to the chest. You get slammed back into the wall and know your done for, your organs are jelly and your blood is pooling at your feet.

"And it's over folks, even if he is still breathing, he isn't moving! That's a win in two punches for Nate the sentinel, always a crowd favorite even if his opponent was weak.

You want to protest and tell them you weren't weak when just register being lifted in the air. "Oh and Nate is hungry folks!" you hear right before the crunch.


[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 head into the closed room

[Assistant] You quickly open the door behind you, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. The room seems to be empty except for a few dozen pipes and valves. You wait patiently, and after a few minutes, you open the door once more, continuing down the once again empty hallway. After quickly floating through the air towards your objective, you come across a massive golden door, topped with a massive icon, with an outer circle of an eight point star, an inner circle of a cog and a half mechanical, half human skull in the center.


[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 will attempt to use your knowledge of illusion to confuse the goblins, so that they turn upon each other.

[Assistant]
Swiftly you climb up the coach, to get a better view of the battle.

Trusting your fellow Air magus Lucius to protect you from the archers, you begin to delve into the minds of the goblins, twisting the images they see until they appear to each other as their enemies.

Great is the sudden confusion as the goblins, suddenly panicked by the turning of their former companions into more soldiers, begin to hack and claw at each other.

One shaman, trying to counter your illusions' effects, is stabbed just in time by a panicking goblin.

The strain to maintain so many, albeit small, illusions is great for you, and after a minute of the frenzied fighting, you sink to your knees, sweatsoaked.

Suddenly, your concentration is broken by a scream next to you.

With horror, you see that Lucius has been spitted on an evil looking sword wielded by Farhan Brownhand, the emissary of Alzur.

He lets go of the sword, and turns to you, grinning wickedly.


[System] You are the narrator of a dark fantasy text adventure. Describe the world and its consequences with unflinching detail. The player's choices shape the story — for better or worse.

[User] You take command of the airship yourself

[Assistant]
Everyone's got his or her place and Warrick is needed where he is. Perhaps another time.

You bid Warrick goodbye and in a week you make your way over to Elam's factory where you can board the new airship.

It does look rather impressive. Just looking at all the cannons stick out of the sides, makes you wonder how the hell it lifts off the ground with all that weight, but then someone probably also wondered how the hell a regular ship can float with the same amount of weight on it at one time too.

"This is a minor thing my Emperor, but I was wondering what did you want to name this ship? I figured you'd want the honor of doing that." Elam asks.
"Name? Oh yes, I suppose a name would come in handy. Let's see…call it the Storm I guess. Raining down destruction on our enemies and all that. Sounds good to me." You reply to which Elam agrees.

You board the Storm with Elam and meet the crew who will be flying this thing. All of them stand at attention when you arrive. a man dressed in a standard Empire engineer uniform walks up to you and salutes. It looks like his uniform has been crudely altered.

"Emperor on deck! It is an honor to meet you in person! My name is Tavis…" he starts to say before you interrupt.
"Why the hell do you have small metal cogs on your shoulders?" you ask.
"Oh…yeah that well when we started this project nobody knew anything about flying so Elam picked me for a lot of first tests. It was dangerous, but exhilarating at the same time! In time I became the most proficient at commandeering this technological marvel, so Elam made me captain."
"Glad to see Elam's taken it upon himself to completely ignore all military protocol and just arbitrarily assign ranks and such. So I'm guessing those little cogs you put on yourself are supposed to represent your new status?"
"Erm...uh…yes my Emperor. I meant no offense!"
"Calm down, I don't care that much. In the future though, assuming this turns out well. We really need to get you proper uniforms for airship crew rather than this poor attempt of altering old ones. Anyway, take me on the grand tour before we lift off."

Elam and Tavis both take you to various parts of the airship and explain various things mostly involving technical talk, eventually you grow bored and decide you just want to get on with getting this thing to the battlefield where you can see its destructive capabilities.

"Alright I get the picture, let's get this thing to the front lines and blow up some Torites." You say.
"As you wish my Emperor, I'll leave you in the hands of Captain Tavis here, uh he's still a captain isn't he?"
"Yes, since it's as good as a designation as any for now. If he proves competent, he may very well keep the rank." You respond.

Elam and some of the other engineers that were testing the safety of the airship soon leave it so that the rest of you can get on your way. The airship takes a moment to warm up, but soon you're lifting off and high in the air. The experience isn't that bad and a fairly smooth ride. You honestly half thought you'd go crashing down to the ground, but it really looks like your engineers came through. You give some praising comments which seems to put the crew and Tavis in good spirits.

You explain you'll be head towards the south where General Ackerson's command is located. You figure you can meet up and see what the situation is and have the Storm assist accordingly.

Along the way one of the lookouts see a group of the centaur Torites galloping across the plains. There are actually quite a few of them. Enough to be a raiding party probably. When asked if the Storm should try to take them out, you say of course.

"We're too far away to use bombs and the cannons aren't angled in a position to fire at them yet. We could use the repeater prototype though. It's located over there and it has terrific range! Would you like to do the honors my Emperor?" Tavis asks.
"Well I don't usually use firearms and I could probably hit some of those horse beasts from here with a few fireballs, but what the hell." You say and walk over to the repeater prototype.

You turn the mounted gun towards the centaurs who are now quite away that the "big machine" in the sky is heading toward them and means to do them harm. They begin to scatter and you press the trigger…

And the gun promptly explodes spectacularly. Enough so that it sets a large part of the ship on fire which then in turn causes more minor explosions.

As the surviving crew runs around attempting to put out fires and move away gunpowder, you find that you are several feet away from your original location and your arms have become bloody stumps. Your body is in bad condition as well considering you can see out of your one remaining eye that your organs are exposed to the air now.

Healing magic wouldn't be of too much help even if you could concentrate to use it. The explosions aboard the airship are deafening and you're barely conscious as it is. Someone goes over to help you and then you pass out.

You are not awake to experience the Storm's fiery crash to the ground.


[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 yeah, you can live with that. This way you get to stay alive, even if you have to live as a coward.

[Assistant]
You want to do something, you really do, but fear paralyzes you.  It's all you can do to look away as the knife comes down.  Even without looking, you know when the knife falls by the gasps of the crowd and the final screams of the victim.

"Do not forget the events of today,"  Yelgar says, "Remain under the crown, lest you meet the same fate as this poor, misguided soul here."

A wave of nausea hits you, you can barely manage to stay standing.  What kind dictatorship is this?  The village seemed almost peaceful when you first arrived, but now, you're not so sure.  Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear one of the guards say,

"Sir!  What on earth is that?"

You turn to see one of the taller soldiers pointing straight at you.  Your heart begins to pound.  Now the rest of the guards are looking at you, you can feel their eyes all over you, crawling over your skin like spiders.

"It's a monster!"  Yelgar cries,  "Capture it before it destroys the village!"

You should do something, run, hide, get ready to fight.  But suddenly there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in your lungs, as much as you gasp.  You fall to your hands and knees, heaving.  Another panic attack?  There's no time for this, you have to escape... but it's so... hard to breathe....

Before you know it, you're surrounded by guards, all pointing spears your way.  They close in so tight that any one of them could take you out in one blow if they really needed to.  Why isn't anyone standing up for you?  They all know you're harmless.  Maybe they're all too afraid to say anything.

The guards all bring down their spears at once, and you know no more...


[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 who are they to order you about, they have their horde for protection and you have yours.

[Assistant]
Who are they to tell you where you can take you own horde? You didn't train all this time with the Old Man just to be bossed about. "I'm coming in but I will be bringing my horde for safety, I can't trust you won't attack the moment I release them." You say as you begin forward again towards the gap that had formed in the army ahead. "I'm not going to bow to their wishes for everything; I'm the Alpha predator as much as them and they will learn that soon."

You get no response from the mind in the city and you let the link drop. "Good, they know not to try and boss me around" you think as you walk.

Sadly as you reach the army ahead they move as one large unit to attack your horde from the front and sides simultaneously. You are about to order your troops to fight back when your mind also comes under attack again and you are forced to concentrate on defense again while your troops are helplessly torn to pieces.

You know it's only been seconds but the attack feels like it's been going on for hours when you feel the enemy horde change a little and suddenly there are two minds crushing into yours with almost as much force as the Old Man used to use on you. One of them you might hold off but two of them quickly crush your defenses and sparks of pain shoot through your mind as the last defense falls.

The pain intensifies for a moment, past what you can bear so you are almost happy when it suddenly ends and blackness overwhelms you.


[System] You are the narrator of a dark fantasy text adventure. Describe the world and its consequences with unflinching detail. The player's choices shape the story — for better or worse.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
The world is dark, and cold. Your eyes see nothing, your ears hear no sound. Your heart no longer beats and you can't move a muscle. Congratulations, you are dead. But not for long. You hazily recall your last moments...

Walking through the nightclub you see an ocean of flesh moving rhythmically to the blasting music. You see the women wearing skirts so short that you wonder how it's legal. Two people however catch your interest the most. A woman of about 20 something is sitting at the bar staring off into the distance. She is wearing a purple dress that ends at her upper thighs. Her alabaster skin looks smoother than porcelain. Her fine blonde hair is like a river of gold. You are immediately attracted to her but as you make your way through the crowd you spot another beauty. At about midway to the woman in the purple dress you spot another one at the opposite end of the bar. This one is wearing a low cut top (that is quite tight fitting) and a miniskirt, she radiates sexiness. She is also quite pale and has fiery red hair and catches you staring at her. She gives a small smile and then looks away. The old divining rod is no help here so who's it gonna be?

[User] The girl at the bar

[Assistant] "Hi," You say followed by whatever cheesy pickup line that comes to mind. Surprisingly it works and you get her attention. Her emerald eyes seem full of life and she looks hungrily at you, almost licking her lips for you. Obviously a good sign. After about an hour of conversing you learn that she lives nearby and she invites you back to her place. And you thought today would suck (All puns intended). You leave the club and follow her back to her place. Turns out she lives in a pretty tidy and sparse apartment down the road from the club. She leaves you on her couch to go "slip into something more comfy" and goes into what looks like her bedroom. Feeling like you just won the lottery you begin to check out her apartment, it's pretty empty except for a desk with some papers on it and a bookcase. The desk looks like it has newspaper clippings on it and the bookcase has some strange looking books on it. Feeling a little paranoid what do you do?

[User] You search the bookcase

[Assistant] After looking through the titles of the book you find that they are all on vampire myths and legends. However there is one that catches your eye out of all of them, it is labeled as "Diary of a vampire" and it intrigues you. Looking through the diary you find that it mentions a nightclub and a gullible guy with cheesy pickup lines trying to get into the owner's panties. The owner of the diary then goes into detail of how they want to dismember the guy after they drain them. You are horrified to find all of the similarities and find that you only have two choices you can either confront "Sarah" as she signs at the bottom of the diary or you can run for your life. Which do you choose?

[User] You run away fast as you can

[Assistant] Unfortunately you can't run away from a vampire that easily. The blonde tracks you down, drains you of blood, and snaps your neck. You die as a human and do not rise again.


[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 wait until they're closer.

[Assistant]
Patience is everything out here. You all lapse into a tense silence as you watch the sweeping scans. The ships are visible on the sensors for only a fraction of a second at a time. They move erratically as they approach in a way that would be difficult to target, then seem to gain confidence and split into two groups, angling to sweep by each side of the station.

You'd installed a few shortcuts on your console and wristcomm last night, preparing for the possibility you'd be working alone, and as they come into range you now tap a key. The lights in the command center dim briefly as outside the station the massive shield generators hum to life. The turrets ready themselves and immediately begin spitting fire. To one of the groups the attack is devastating, leaving two of the ships smoldering wreckage and disabling a third. The four on the other side of the station take minor damage and one loses shields and has to retreat back towards the carrier.

Karoff hasn't been idle either, and once he saw you go into action he sent a barrage of missiles toward the carrier itself, which make contact a couple of moments later. They don't pierce the shields, but apparently are enough of a bother that the big ship begins to move off further out of range, meaning it can't provide backup to the rest of the pirates, even the unshielded one limping towards it.

"Nice work, everyone. And I guess I'll take janitor duty," Hinsman says, firing another pair of torpedoes. One blows the disabled ship to shrapnel and another zips across the distance to take out the shield-less one.

The remaining three pull out of range. They continue to make slow circles around the station for a bit, launching a few torpedoes of their own, two exploding harmlessly against the shield of the central complex and the third doing some damage to one of the unshielded arms, but missing the turret. When Karoff manages to strike a glancing blow off of one of them with his return fire they seem to think better of lingering and retreat to the carrier. It jumps to underspace, and after a few seconds it's clear they're not trying any risky tricks with jumping closer to the station, while your sensor sweeps continue to not report them emerging anywhere else in the system.

Battles in space tend to be that way. Hours of tense preparation and waiting, decided by a few seconds of actual weapon's exchange. If one of the pirate ships had managed to get in close enough to line up a shot before you activated the shields, this all could've gone very differently.

"As soon as we can get this data to the Order, there's gonna be a hell of a hunt going on for the ones who got away," Hinsman says later, while compiling the battle report and the information on the infection aboard the station. "Hope no one was planning a vacation."

"Eh, scouring a bunch of backwater planets for terrorists won't be that bad," Karoff replies with a shrug. "I just don't envy whoever's gonna be searching and sanitizing every centimeter of this station. So sorry about that, Zee."

You can tell he's joking for once, and just shake your head. "Nope, not me. Never been gladder they gave me a gun instead of a mop."


[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 target the nearing werewolves

[Assistant]
You target the nearing werewolves, firing bullet after bullet. The silver bullets slam into the beasts as they howl, many collapsing and falling away. You keep them away from the coach, but not the horses. As you just make it past the castle gates and smashing past the viceroy's coach, the werewolves tear the horses apart as they neigh and whiny in terror as they're devoured by the eager wolves. You coach quickly slows down, slamming into a tree and stopping suddenly.

"Shit!" Dasha yells.

Shit. You need to act.

[User] You get out and run towards the nearest village

[Assistant]
"Run!" you yell, kicking open the carriage door and leaping outside into the forest.

You sprint forward, as the werewolves reach the carriage. You hear Haygarth, simply too slow to flee, scream in pain. You keep running, before you feel your back breaking as the werewolf's claw smashed into your hack, the knife-like claws cutting through your leather duster and slashing through your flesh. You roll to the ground with a scream, as the werewolf leaps onto you, it's weight crushing you. It's wet saliva dripping onto your face, it howls at the moon in an act of triumph, before it lunges forward, biting deep into your throat.


[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 jackcrappe

[Assistant]
WRONG!

The giant wolf leaps upon you and tears your throat out with its teeth.  A horrible way to die to be sure.

THE END


[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 trap

[Assistant]
While you know you and Lisa went separate ways in life, and this betrayal was always a possibility, it still stings enough to fill you with rage.

Your attacker in front of you attempts to stab you in the face while you're still hurt, but you dodge, grab his wrist and make him stab himself in the stomach while breaking his arm at the same time.

You then turn your attention to Lisa who is pointing the pistol at you again. She shouts something, but you don't even hear it, you just rush her.

She doesn't even get off a shot, you knock her to the ground and get on top of her.

"Wait…" she utters and then you rip out her throat with your fangs and taste her blood.

You then sense another figure hovering near you and you throw a punch to his kneecap, shattering it. He screams and falls to the ground, but he manages to shoot you with a bolt before doing so.

At this point you feel several bolts go into your back. They hurt like hell, but it's nothing compared to when you're hit by a firebomb.

"Come on, she's dead! Let's get the hell outta here!" you hear someone shout and then a deafening explosion.

The explosion knocks you into the wall of a nearby building and you separately attempt to roll out the flames. It's during this that you realize that you've partially lost a leg in the blast.

At this point all this noise is enough to alert everyone in the nearby area. Several Ebony Claw members come out of the bar and even some of the Holgard Watch come running to the scene.
Meanwhile, you're burned badly, wounded severely, and attempting to crawl away.

Someone shouts "A monster! Kill it!" and then even more hell breaks loose.

You are no longer attacked by the Fel touched assassins anymore (Who apparently have made themselves scarce), but instead you're attack by a combined mob of regular Ebony Claw members and a few of the Holgard Watch.

You attempt to fight off the mob, but in your condition you can't fight effectively or even get away.

Normal weapons might not normally kill vampires, but when there are enough of them cutting you into bloody pieces they will still do the job, especially when you're beheaded.

After you're a heap of almost unrecognizable gore, one of the Watch takes his torch and sets your remains on fire.

The only consolation in all this is Holgard is probably going to be stalked by an even more powerful vampire in the near future.


[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 stall for time

[Assistant]
You briefly entertain the idea of rushing Igor, he wouldn't be able to get all of you, but you're not ready to risk death at the hands of some deformed assistant after you already killed Victor and Frankie. You need to buy some time.

"Alright Igor, just calm down. It's over Vic and Frankie are dead. You don't have to get pushed around by either one anymore and you got this whole castle as inheritance! I just did you a favor."
"A favor? A favor? You killed my younger brother you ASSHOLE!"

You quickly put two and two together.

"Vic? Victor was your brother? Your younger brother?"
"He damn well better have been, after all the abuse I took from him! You know what it's like being abused by your younger brother on a daily basis for YEARS?"
"Not really, I killed all my brothers soon after we were born. I wasn't sharing. Survival of the fittest and all." You say dryly.
"Really? Well I envy you. I wish I had that option. But nooo. Mom liked Vic best. Vic was handsome. Vic wasn't deformed, Vic this. Vic that! Look after Vic, Igor. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble Igor. He's your younger brother and you have to protect him Igor. I was the first born! Why didn't Igor get any love?! I was the smart one!"
"Yes you were. I mean if it hadn't been for you Vic wouldn't have even created Frankie." You say.
"Damn straight! I was the one who kept his ass alive! I'm the one that corrected all his idiot ideas when it came to updating Frankie! I'm not stupid like everyone says! I'm smart! And I demand respect! And I never fucking got it! I just got a fucking whip to the hump!"

At this point Igor is ranting so much about hating his brother and his self-pity, he's not aiming his weapon at you any longer. You take advantage of the situation and rush at him, he's not quick enough to react and you knock him to the ground before eviscerating him. Oddly after all that ranting, he dies gurgling an apology.

"I'm sorry Vic…I tried…gurgle…"

You shake your head at Igor's misguided loyalty, while the Pack surrounds you.

"We won! You rule Wolf! What now?" one of them asks.
"Dunno, didn't expect to survive really…so did you get all this on camera Mary?" you ask out loud, startling the wolflings.

Mary comes out of hiding, with a camcorder.

"How did you know I was here?" she asks
"Please, I don't forget a scent, especially one that I know quite intimately. So let me guess. You're going to exploit this footage for financial gain right?"
"Well yeah. When you left the studio I followed you a bit and found out you were heading here. At first I wanted to protect and help my family so I got here before you."
"What changed your mind?"
"I realized what a bunch of miscreants and fuck ups they all were! What was I supposed to do? Be like Igor and stay loyal to a bunch of reprobates that wouldn't appreciate it anyway? It's not like they're REALLY my family. So I just decided to film the epic battle since you ruined my original movie by taking this lot with you."
"I take it you didn't care who won though."
"Not really, but if it makes you feel warm and squishy inside I suppose I was rooting for you more. You were the underdog after all…hey! That's a great title for the movie!" Mary exclaims.

The Wolflings get a little restless about all this.
"Hey shouldn't we do something, I mean she's part of this fucked up family, and she's trying to exploit us!"
"Ah see now this is another lesson I can teach you guys. You don't need to be an asshole all the time, especially when there's some benefit for not doing so. A lesson I probably should've obeyed more when I was your age. Mary's little movie is made purely for exploitation, but its GOOD exploitation. It'll show everyone who we are and that we're NOT to be fucked with! This isn't some shitty family movie. This is raw footage of werewolves doing what they do best, kicking ass! We couldn't ask for better publicity. AND I assume we'll be getting some money for this right Mary?"

Mary looks a little reluctant, but she realizes she has to give you something.
"Right Wolf."
"That's what I thought. Now the battle is good and all, but you'll need to pad it out more, I say you start doing interviews with us. We can make this into a documentary! If you need more footage, we can always go bust up a bar…"

And so it happens, Mary releases "Underdogs: The Inner Mind of the Wolf" in a bunch of pansy art theatres at first where it's critically acclaimed. Later it gets released it regular theatres where most people like it mainly due to the brutal violence and your "colorful" interviews. You even win an award.

The movie makes Werewolves "cool" again and you're never out of work anymore, which is a good thing since Ginger gave birth to a litter of cubs which YOU have to pay to support! You come home every day to the little nippers biting your ankles for your attention.

Still, life is good and you once again have achieved the fame and fear you deserve.


[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 force Drake to leave

[Assistant]
"No, we're going!" you growl.

Drake nods slowly, before drawing a pistol from his belt, aiming at you. You fling the pistol out of his hands, dragging him into the air.

"Please, I'm sorry, but I can't be captured. They'll kill them!" Drake asks pitifully.

"Them?" you ask.

"Yes. Kyros has my two children taken prisoner aboard this ship, my two baby girls. If I don't report to him every hour, he'll hurt them!"

"I've read your report. You don't have children."

Drake's look of terror and desperation slowly morphs into a grin.

"Alright, you got me. Shall we go?"

You snarl, smacking Drake into the ground. He lets out a pained yell, before you raise him up again.

"Give me one reason not to kill you," you say.

"Fuck you. Just go ahead and kill me," Drake laughs, spitting blood out of his mouth and giving a grin, his teeth bloodied.

"Is that your final answer?" you ask.

"You need me alive to pilot this ship, dipshit," Drake says.

"Perhaps. But I could easily peel off your skin, turn your bones to dust, char your flesh and twist your limbs off."

"You need to happy, Karth," Drake grins. "My jobs to navigate the ship, make sure we're not lost in the Warp, boarded by daemons or make sure we don't come out of the Warp and straight into the sun. If my life's not worth living, such as if someone peeled off my skin, turned my bones to dust, charred my flesh and twisted my limbs off, I'd just make sure this ship goes straight into a star."

"Just break him. The powers of the Warp will send you where you need to go. You don't need a Navigator. Tear this rat apart!" Meliodas says.

You growl, walking out into the hallway, Drake floating after you. You quickly reach an elevator, tossing Drake inside.


[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] The Moon

[Assistant]
"The moon," you say softly.

"Oh, you're actually answering the riddle? How delightful! Maybe I misjudged you!"

"Am I right, then?"

"Oh well, it is a very moonlit night" the Fool grins. "I like your answer either way. Well, I best be off. Good luck dealing with my boy tonight, Willy."

"Wait!" you growl, aiming your shotgun at him. "You move and I blow your brains out!"

The Fool sighs, shaking his head.

"I don't think you really know how this game works, do you?" the Fool says.

The Fool leans forward, placing his thumb against the shotgun barrel. He scratches at his puffy, burned eyes, sighing.

"You're not going to shoot that gun," he says simply.

With that, the Fool turns, strolling off into the woods. You try to aim your shotgun, but find your arms are incapable of moving, the numb, cold muscles refusing to work. All you can do is watch as the Fool disappears into the darkness.

When he's out of view, you snarl. You sniff the air, smelling the scent of prey, and... you try to focus on the pain for a moment, ignoring your bestial senses, before you smell something else. The smell of smoke, in the distance.

You pause, raising an eye. Smoke means fire. Fire means activity. There needs to be something in that direction.


[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 train the mutants as engineers

[Assistant] The mutants are enrolled in the training programs. The mutants struggle with more intellectual tasks like computing, but their numbers mean that enough of them get it to make the ship operational. All in all, the mutants are successful in fulfilling every role the ship has available. Now the Roar of the Vortex is at full power.


[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 remain in your own world

[Assistant]
"Its served me well so far, so I guess asshole it is."
"Yeah, I thought as much. Thanks for nothing." Nina says and walks off.

You go back to what you were doing. About an hour passes and then your lighting starts to dim, and then goes out altogether. Its pitch dark and you can hear yelling and screaming all throughout the shelter. Someone fucked something up, but good.

You leave your room and stumble through the darkness bumping into frightened people until you manage to find your way back to the computer room. You see some flashlights shining at various parts of the computer.

"What the hell did you idiots do?" you yell, as two technicians shine their lights towards you.
"Whoa! It's you! Don't shoot!"

Nina then shines her light at you as well.

"Now you decide to help?"
"Get outta the way, before I shoot all of you!" you exclaim pushing the two techs out of the way and grabbing one of their flashlights.

You inspect what happened and it's not good, they completely fried the CPU. You don't know how the fuck they did that, but they did. You can't fix this, even if you had the right tools and adequate lighting. Somehow you really aren't hysterical about all this.

"Well guys, I got some really bad news. We're in deep shit that I can't get us out of. You've doomed us all. Nice going guys."

The two techs begin to freak out and run screaming; Nina has a quiver in her voice.

"You mean, there's nothing at all?! We're all gonna die?"
"Looks like. The question is how, quick or slow…and I got this gun here as you all know…you coming with me?"

Nina doesn't even hesitate.

"Let's do it."
"You sure?"
"Just shut up and do it."
"Okay, now I gotta get close since its dark…"

You point the gun directly at Nina's head and pull the trigger. You feel a splash of blood on your face and the slumping of a lifeless body.

You hear the screams echo throughout the shelter get louder. You'll be glad to leave this insane asylum, you just wonder if you should've done things differently…

No time for that now. No time for regrets, just time to do it.

You pull the gun at your head and pull the trigger.


[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 go to the Retlad Kingdom

[Assistant]
You've never even heard of Quillars before, but they still sound less dangerous than the Tulan Border, that place is only going to get worse, you know it.

"I'll take the Retlad assignment sir."
"Hm. Smart. Here's your first month's pay, I suggest you live it up here in Zal, for the couple of days you have off before you leave."

You take the small bag and look inside. This will certainly help your family. You take a few coins for yourself and then ask if arrangements can be made to have your payment sent to your family from now on. He tells you yes, but asks that surely that you will still want some of it. You agree to just taking 10% of it. You don't need much.

"Sheesh, living bare minimum huh? Don't you want to eat anything other than military rations every once in awhile?" Kosser questions again.
"Nah. If I need extra food, I'll just hunt."
"You know even the booze and brothel girls in Retlad aren't THAT cheap. You sure you don't want more?"
"Nope. I'll be fine. My family needs that money more than I do."
"Alright then, family man."

You exit the barracks and wander the city a bit. You find it very interesting. You sort of wish you could stay longer to take in more sights. However one thing catches your eye. A small store and in the window is a lute. Looks almost like the one you had before it was taken away from you in basic training. You haven't gotten a chance to play in six months and you'd really like to…

Hey you're a soldier now, you've proven yourself. You figure you can take one personal belonging with you to Retlad as long as you keep them packed properly. You enter the store and with the little money you have you buy the lute. You spend the most of the day and the next practicing it. You didn't forget as much as you thought. You also finish up writing a letter to your family and give it to a Zalan messenger carrier.

Finally the third day arrives for you to move out. A couple of officers arrive to take most of your other fellow cadets. Mostly to the Tulan border, however, it would appear you have a different escort. A young man in loose robe approaches you. He looks like a wizard, but you wonder for how long since he seems about your age.

"Hey, are you the one going to the Retlad Kingdom?" he asks
"Yeah, who are you?"
"I'm Wessel. And don't you dare get cute and call me weasel, or I'll have to blast you with a lightning bolt."
"I wasn't planning on it." You say which causes Wessel to start laughing.
"Geez, I was just fucking with you. Don't be so serious! So you ready to go?"
"Yeah I guess, are you my superior officer?"
"Huh? Oh no. Look I got our horses waiting outside; we can do all this getting to know you stuff on the way."

You and Wessel get on the horses and ride towards your destination. It would appear that you're the only one from your group to be going, but of course you were the only expert marksman.

Wessel begins to tell you more about why he's with you. In fact he doesn't really let you do much talking at all. He says he's a native citizen of the Zalan Empire, but he just graduated from the esteemed magic university in the city state of Nuro. Wessel goes on to and says that when he heard they needed a few wizard over in Retlad, he decided to volunteer to test his skills and get paid while doing it. He explains that the pair of you will be following the orders of a Captain Vhalat.

Everyone knows about Nuro. It's very famous, and you always wondered what kind of magical wonders existed there, so you're eager to hear more and he's all too happy to tell you. Despite Wessel's primary focus on himself, it sounds like a place you'd want to visit one day.

Eventually you arrive at the border and so far the Retlad Kingdom doesn't look very well kept. The road begins to show evidence of disrepair and the sign posts are broken. You begin to keep your eye out for a possible attack at any second.

"Look! Over there! It's a village and it's under attack! Come on!" Wessel yells and rides towards the village in the distance. You try to tell him to wait, but he's already well on his way, so you ride after him.

You've never seen a Quillar before, but the closer you get to the village, you start seeing humanoid creatures covered in sharp spikes running around at a fast speed which could only be them. They are indeed fearsome looking. You also see a lot of the people running from them, and even a few people dressed in protective gear similar to yours…not that its doing them much good.

"Alright you prickly bastards here's something for ya!" Wessle shouts riding into the village with one hand raised in the air for a lightning blast attack. He shows no fear. You have no idea if all wizards are like this, but he's either got to be brave, stupid or just suicidal. Of course he could be all three. Up until now you always thought wizards were supposed to be meek types that didn't charge into battle and preferred to kill from afar. You guess you were wrong.

[User] You stay with him to back him up

[Assistant]
This reckless idiot is probably going to get himself killed if you don't stick by his side. You ride quickly to catch up with him in the village, and draw your bow.

Surprisingly for your first battle, you manage to keep calm and focused on the enemy. Hard to do considering the Quillars aren't the easiest of foes. They're quick and they're firing their quills faster than you're firing your bow.

The problem though isn't the Quillars, its Wessel. He's having such a "good time" blasting the Quillars, that he's causing a lot more collateral damage in the process. During one of these moments, your own horse gets spooked by the incredibly close fireball blast and rears back causing you to fall off of it.

You're still shaking the cobwebs when one of the Quillars unleashes more quills and hits you with several of them. You collapse in pain, as the Quillar charges at you. It doesn't kill you though. Wessel makes sure of that when he throws a bolt of lightning at it.

Unfortunately the Quillar happens to have grabbed you just as its hit by the lightning. Your current pain is increased severely as the electrical current passes through your body, but not for long and your fried body eventually stops its deaths throes.

Wessel has a hard time explaining that the other transfer was hit by "friendly" fire.


[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 steal a horse

[Assistant]
You climb onto the horse, and gently kick it. The horse whinnies.

"Go!" you command.

The horse stays still.

"Come on! Gallop!"

The horse stays still.

"Do you know how to ride a horse?" Blaise asks, staring at you.

"No."

"Ah. This could be a problem in our plan."

You kick the horse again, before slipping. You fall off the horse and hit the ground with a thud and a groan.

"Ow. What were the other options?" you ask.


[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 run to the sewers

[Assistant]
With as many militia fuckers that are around the station, it might be best to run while you can. You give a look at Zal and nod, then the pair of you turn around and start walking away fast. One of the militia shouts at you both to stop which then leads to you both running; this is then followed by them chasing you.

Running with a full pack on your back is never a fun thing, but its not like you haven't done it a few times before. Desperately prying a manhole cover off while trying to escape the law is even less fun.

The worst of course is stomping about in the sewers. You didn't like it the first time you did it. Fortunately Zal is still more familiar with them than the militia is and after lying low in some unknown corner of these marvels of sanitation eventually you lose them altogether.

"We're not getting out of this city the conventional way." Zalmora remarks.
"Scaling the wall is going to be a little tough. Probably would still be easier to sneak out one of the gates." You say.
"It'll be even easier to sneak out of the city using these sewers. There's an old passage the Talons used to use to get in and out of the city sometimes. I just hope it hasn't been completely blocked off since the militia took them out."
"Surprised the Talons didn't use it to escape."
"A few of them might have for all I know, but when the militia stormed the hideout, some of them came through that route to make sure nobody escaped that way. I'm just glad I happened to be pissed at Jake at the time and wasn't around when any of it happened."
"I didn't know that."
"Yeah well it's not something I like to dwell on too much. The whole last time we spent time together being angry with him and all. It's in the past anyway and right now getting through the present is more important. Come on."

Eventually you get to the tunnel that Zal was speaking about and it has indeed been blocked off, however it hasn't been blocked in a manner that would be impossible to get through as only a set of iron bars along with a few iron gates with locks on them have been installed.

You and Zal get to work on opening them and eventually you pop them all and soon you're making your way out to the great outdoors and more importantly those awful sewers.

"Fucking hell, never thought I'd be so glad to see the countryside again. I don't know how the hell you dealt with those sewers on regular basis." You remark.
"You get used to it. You get used to a lot of things…anyway I guess we're walking to Hessla now." Zalmora says.
"That'll be fun. How long will that take?" you say.
"A few days I imagine. Uh, you got food and water?"
"I got some water. I don't think I have any food. Not exactly a hunter either."
"Well I guess we'll just eat when we get there."

You and Zal begin to walk west towards your destination. As you put more and more distance between you and Klyton, you have a myriad of thoughts running through your mind though some of those are surprisingly about your family. You briefly wonder how they're all doing. You imagine your mom and dad lives are a lot easier without you around anymore. As for your sister, you hope she's doing a lot better than you are right now.

You weren't sure about "starting over" before, but it looks like you'll be doing it whether you want to or not. New town, new possible "profession", you're not exactly looking forward to all of it.

The only good factor in all this is Zalmora who has been by your side pretty solidly since you partnered up with her. You certainly have a great deal of feelings for her as well, and yet…

You still don't fully trust her.

You don't know why… well you do know why; it's what happened with Annah. Zal has never given you any reason to not trust her, but then Annah didn't give you any reason either for years.

As you struggle with this minor conundrum, you suddenly call out to Zal.

"Yes?" Zal replies.
"I…I'm sorry I didn't tell you about where I keep my secret stash." You say.
"Oh. I wasn't fussed about it."
"No, I mean it's not right. You've been there for me since we started our relationship and I'm still mistrustful of you when I shouldn't be. I mean shit, I haven't even told you I love you."
"Do you?"
"Well…yeah. Of course I do."
"That didn't sound sure."
"I do!"
"It's fine. I mean I haven't said it to you either."
"Yeah, but I know you do."
"Oh. You KNOW that. How?"
"Well…because…you know! I mean you show it all the time. Just all the stuff you do."
"There are lots of people that will standby you for various reasons, even the right ones. Doesn't prove anything. I would think your own past experience would confirm that."
"Yeah well…I can't worry about every detail. Sometimes you have to roll the dice and hope Yag lets you roll a seven."
"So throwing caution to the wind and leaving it to the gods huh?"
"Seems like it."

Zal at this point gives you a kiss and mentions how glad she is that she met you.

"So about my secret stash…" you start to say.
"Oh you don't need to tell me. I already know where it's at." Zal says.
"What?!"
"That's why I said I wasn't fussed. I already knew its location."
"And you're just now telling me?"
"If I'd told you before, you would've freaked out like you're doing now, thinking I was going to rob you and then you'd have to go find a new spot and it would have put unnecessary work on you, especially since where you did hide it was a very good spot anyway and not likely to be found. Well not unless you're me. Besides, even if you had moved it, I would have just found out again."

You don't answer this revelation from Zal. It's a bit concerning, well a lot concerning really. On one hand it shows that when it comes to your significant others you're really shit at hiding anything from them. On the other it shows Zal's been keeping secrets as well, though maybe that isn't too surprising.

"Oh come on, don't look like that. I told you just now didn't I? Besides, if I wanted to rob you I would have done it sooner." Zal says.
"I've heard that one before. So what did you do? Follow me?" You respond.
"Yep. I wanted to have my own back up plan in case you turned out to be an asshole like Jake or worse. Wasn't putting myself through that again."
"I see."
"But you weren't. Or at least not one to me. So it all worked out and we're still together."

Part of you considers that you should really rethink your relationship with Zalmora, but after a moment…

"Fuck it. Not going to stress about this. It's not like it's going to be easy for anyone to get to now at this point. Just hope its safe in the time when we can go back and get it." You say.
"Should be. We'll come back in a month or so with a small wagon and go through the sewers and pick it up. That building you hid it near has been abandoned for as long as I've been alive in Klyton. Nobody ever seems to bother with it. The city has never had any plans to turn it into something else, nobody else has ever bought it, hell even bums don't even squat in it. It's almost like its cursed. Any particular reason why you picked it?" Zal says.
"Eh, my family used to own the place. Ran it as an inn. My dad even worked there while he was trying to complete college."
"Really? Well that's…wait…what the hell is that?"

You hear the same noise and both you and Zalmora turn your attention towards the wooded area to the left and draw your flintlocks.

Several scruffy looking individuals jump down from the trees with weapons in hand. The one who seems to be the leader is an elven woman with face paint and a wild hairstyle and steps forward with a crossbow in her hands. While you're about ready to fire, Zalmora actually stops you.

"Flameflower. Didn't know you survived the last raid on the Bloody Talons' hideout." Zalmora says.
"Yeah, well my sister didn't." Flameflower retorts focusing her attention solely at Zal and moving slowly forward towards her. You keep your own firearm focused on Flameflower, though the rest of her people are also stepping forward and it's looking grim.
"Sorry to hear that. Sunshine was always friendly towards me."
"She wanted her face in your vertical smile. Where were you during that raid?"
"I was on a job."
"Yeah, a job. Always seemed a little convenient that YOU weren't around when the shit went down."
"So what are you saying Flame? You saying I ratted on the Talons?"
"I dunno. You always acted like you were too good for the gang most of the time."
"I was putting in more work for the gang than most were. I was also in it before you even joined. So don't act like I wasn't a true Talon or whatever you're implying. And I certainly wasn't a fucking rat."
"Oh you were putting in work all right. You were fucking Jake. Never did understand what he saw in you. I had far more in common with him."
"What can I say? The heart wants what the heart wants."
"Yeah and it obviously got him killed."
"No, being an overly violent reckless idiot is what got him killed."

Flame is now very close to you and Zal. In fact probably idiotically so. You'd easily blow her face off at this range, even Zal would probably get off a shot before Flame unleashed her crossbow. Flame would have been more dangerous if she'd stayed further back and just ambushed you from the trees.

Flameflower turns her attention briefly towards you.

"So who's this one trying to look dangerous? Jake's replacement?" Flame asks.
"Something like that. He does look dangerous doesn't he?" Zal remarks.
"Pfft. He looks like he should be working in a brothel servicing aging women that are trying to desperately hang on to their youth. But then again, I guess that's what he's sort of already doing."
"Yeah well we can't all have elven blood in our veins to help to assist in halting the aging process halfbreed. You want to talk about desperately hanging on to youth, look in a mirror, since last I remember you're about a decade older than me and you're still hanging out with people that could be your children. Look at you, running around half naked in the trees like some fucking savage. Is this what you've been doing since the Talons were put out of business?"
"What can I say? I finally decided to embrace my elven heritage completely and live wild and free."
"Well it definitely is you."
"It is me, isn't it? So, what are you and your pretty manservant doing outside Klyton?"
"It's a long story."
"Well did you want to go back to our camp and tell me all about it? Could certainly do with some new anecdotes other than the ones these assholes talk about over and over."
"Sure. We could probably do with a rest after recent events."
"Zal?" you say.
"Don't worry. We're not in any danger, well not in any more danger than we were in Klyton anyway." Zalmora says.
"Yeah, lighten up pretty boy. We're not killing you. Might still kill Zal if she pisses me off enough, but you…yeah I'd definitely have plans for you…"

Flameflower at this point makes an obscene gesture with her fingers and tongue. You aren't quite sure how to react to being harassed like this. Zal just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Flame's advances towards you.

"Flame is a lot of talk. Just stay close to me, I'll protect you." Zalmora says with a smirk.

Despite her earlier threats and hostile demeanor, Flameflower is relatively cordial towards Zalmora for the remainder of the night at her camp. She explains to Zal that after she escaped she decided to take up the life of a bandit and along the way she's managed to acquire a new gang though they don't really have any official name. She also says that while they operate around Klyton, they often move around a bit in case the militia starts sniffing around.

Zal reveals a bit about your own situation with the militia and the situation within Klyton. Flameflower just nods and says it sounds like she's better off out here. She even offers Zal to join her gang.

"Nah, sort of done with the whole gang thing Flame, but thanks anyway." Zal remarks.
"Bah, still think you're too good for the rest. Whatever. So, what about you pretty boy? You apparently like older women and I can tell you I got way more experience than Zal here. Make you feel things you didn't even know you had senses for." Flameflower says with the same predatory gaze she's had the whole time.
"Um, no I'm good." You reply.
"Your loss. You know…you look familiar. Like someone I briefly knew when I was a lot younger. I used to work at an inn with my sister as a waitress for a while. Mom thought it would instill some sense of responsibility in us. (Snort) Mom was an idiot."
"How odd. I was just telling Zal here about how my family used to own an inn in Klyton."

Flameflower suddenly slaps her leg and points at you.

"That's it! There was a guy and his mother that used to run a place called the Traveler's Inn. You look like him. He married some other waitress that worked there. Sort of a quiet girl. Always thought she was a bit prissy. I think her name was…Elsa?"
"Eliza. That's my mom." You say.
"Yeah, I can see that. Though you look more like your father. Hrm. Small world it seems."
"Indeed."
"Well if neither of you are interested in joining, you two are still welcome to rest here until morning. Consider it my rare courtesy towards an old gang acquaintance who my dead dear sister had a minor crush on and the eye candy who I'd have my legs wrapped around if this situation was a bit different right now."
"Hm, well we appreciate it Flame." Zalmora responds.
"Anyway, you guys want any dwarven ale? We got several barrels of the shit and nobody here likes it. Not even sure why we took it really. I think one of these idiots said it might be valuable, but hell if I know where to unload it. I mean we're fucking bandits, we aren't exactly in the business of trading much of what we take."

You and Zal look at each other.

"Y'know Flame, we're thinking about starting up a new business in Hessla, If you hang on to that ale for just a bit longer, I think we might be able to get you something in exchange for it." Zal says.

This new business isn't exactly going to be the type of work you're used to, but maybe this new phase won't be too bad. You suppose you'll soon find out though.

[User] You time passes...

[Assistant]
Year 27

"You sure you're going to be fine going to see Flameflower and her gang of reprobates by yourself?" you ask Zalmora.
"I'll be more than fine. Flame's been overjoyed to have someone that can get various supplies for her on a regular basis, so she's probably been friendlier with me than she was in the Talons. We've also been doing well with our dealings with her. I think she's actually starting to get organized. She's got that permanent hideout now and actually came up with a name." Zalmora remarks.
"Oh? What is it?"
"The Flame Blades, though I think it's a work in progress. Anyway, I'll probably be gone a few days. According to the badly written note she sent, she's managed to snag a lot of shit and as usual she's just piled it all up in corner since she doesn't have any immediate use for it. Hopefully some of it is actually valuable, but she hasn't disappointed yet."
"Okay. Be careful."
"Of course I will, but if you're really worried about me, you could go in my place. I'm sure Flameflower would be happy to see you. You might even get us a discount if you were willing to go that extra step."
"Ha ha. Pretty sure if that happened, Flame would just keep me as her sex captive and you'd leave me with her as revenge for fucking around on you in the first place."
"Oh, only for a year, then I'd trade some elven wine for you or something."
"Glad to see I'm in such high demand. Anyway, I'll hold things down here."
"Good, oh and try not to get into another argument with Lorenzo from Little Lorenzo's while I'm gone."
"That fucking Halfling has been an asshole since we opened up shop here. Keeps blaming his financial problems on us and I'm not putting up with him going trying to bad mouth us to potential customers."
"And he's been completely ineffective in that endeavor. Why? Because he's a fucking Halfling and unless it's food, nobody fucking pays attention to shit they got to say. If anything, when you went over and started breaking his windows you drew more attention to his shop…as well as the Governor's Headsmen. Let's try to avoid that again."
"Alright. I'll try to keep that in mind."

Zalmora kisses you goodbye and takes her leave and you're left to your own devices.

So far your time in Hessla has been okay. Though you're still getting used to the idea of having a job despite what Zal says.

Sure you're dealing in a lot of stolen goods and you've done that before on a smaller scale, but you still have been missing the whole hands on approach to how you used to do things. Then again life has been a lot easier and could be a lot worse.

As the day passes you get the usual routine. Selling a few used muskets here, taking in a few exotic vases there, coin given and coin received. The usual.

As you're taking stock of some of the items you have in the store, you briefly look when you hear the door open. You see a woman dressed in traveller's clothing with an eye patch over her left eye walking in with a bag over her shoulder and a little dog by her feet.

"Hey, no anim…wait a minute…Annah?" you say.
"Um…yeah…it's me." She replies a bit meekly.

Part of you can't believe that you're seeing her again, another part of you sort isn't surprised. By the same token, part of you wants to go over and strangle her, while a small part of you wants to go over and hug her.

She walks further into the store with a minor limp. Her dog, which you presume, is still Checkers, follows closely and is still about the same size the last time you saw the infernal furry beast.

While you're feeling a lot of emotions right now, one of the reasons why you aren't acting on any of the negative ones is the condition she's in. Eye patch, limp, if she had a hook, she could pass for one of the pirates in Hessla as this point. When she gets closer, you notice scars around her neck. Like either someone unsuccessfully tried to slit her throat or tried to hang her.

"Annah…what the fuck happened?" you ask.
"I…I fucked up." Annah responds.
"Well obviously."
"Can I sit down a moment?"
"Sure go ahead. I was getting ready to close down for the day anyway."

Annah finds a chair and sits down putting her bag on the floor. When she does, its almost as if some of her burdens have been lifted, if only for a moment. Checkers curls up next to one of her feet. As you're locking up, you're just having a hard time believing it's actually her.

"Well I guess I wouldn't blame you for laughing at me right now." Annah responds.
"Laugh? Annah, this is fucking tragic seeing you like this. I mean…fuck sure I was pretty angry with that stunt you pulled, the last time I saw you. Even briefly thought about chasing you down, but even I certainly wouldn't have done this to you. Shit, I didn't even wish this on you." You say.
"Heh…I guess I always knew that despite everything you'd still have some feelings for me. I suppose that's why I came to find you. You know I tried Klyton first. Had a hell of a time finding out you had moved here. Not surprised you finally moved given how strict things have gotten in Klyton. However, I am surprised to find you running a store of sorts."
"Yeah well, things change."
"Indeed. I'm guessing the woman I heard you were with was one of the reasons for that change. Don't worry; I'm not here to mess that up. Actually I'm glad you found someone because it's certainly hard being by yourself. Wish I'd realized that sooner. Is she here?"
"No. If she were, we might not be having this long of a conversation. Which brings me to the point of this visit. Now I still don't know what happened to you, but obviously, you sought me out so I could help you in some way. So what is it?"
"It's a long story."
"Yeah well Zalmora isn't going to be back for awhile, so start talking."

Annah tells you that soon after your "parting of ways" she went to the Delantium Kingdom. She says that she lived pretty well there, but it all started to fall apart when she got involved with the Ebony Claw Syndicate.

"By the gods, why the hell would you do that for?" you utter.
"I thought I was smart enough to handle them. Of course if I was really smart I would have left Delantium as soon as one of them approached me with their propositions." Annah answers.

Annah goes on about how she dug a deeper and deeper hole for herself with the Syndicate until finally they began to lose patience with her and before she could disappear, they caught her and it wasn't good.

She tells you that in the scheme of things she got off light since the others directly involved in the plan weren't so lucky. She was just considered loosely connected so managed to keep her life. However, she says you're not seeing the scars she has on her back where they also whipped her. It was by the luck of Yag that one of the Syndicate members was such an animal lover that he didn't kill Checkers as part of the "lesson."

After the debt was paid in blood and what little coin she had, she left the Delantium Kingdom.

"And then you came to find me?" you ask.
"Well I actually thought about going home to Teckleville, but despite everything I wasn't completely ready to admit defeat and live some boring life. In fact, that's part of the reason I'm here."

Annah at this point takes her bag and gives you it. You look at her and you slowly open it.

"By the gods..." You utter.

You put your hand inside the bag and pull out a fist full of vials filled with Blue Dream. The entire bag is full of them. There must be a small fortune here.

"This is a lot of fucking Blue Dream, Annah. You realize how much fucking Blue Dream you got here?"
"Not exactly, no. Do you know?"
"No, I don't, but it's a fucking lot."
"Can you give me a fair price? I understand you need to make a profit."
"Annah, I'm not a fucking Blue Dream lord! I mean sure I sold some medical shit back in Klyton, but this is a whole different situation."
"How so?"
"First off, I'm sure you realize that Ebony Claw Syndicate has domination on this product. They're very fucking protective of it. I mean if you're caught selling this shit and you're not ECS, they will take it out on your ass."
"Well isn't Hessla free of ECS influence?"
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they don't still come here. I start selling this shit in Hessla and I'll have a Syndicate hit squad on me before the Governor's Headsmen can do shit about it. Which brings me to the second point. The Governor of Hessla has a shaky relationship with the Syndicate. If anything causes that tenuous peace to start going south, he's going to take steps to correct it. And if that means turning over the troublemaker to the Syndicate, then that's what's going to happen."
"No way to do it quietly?"
"Annah, I could be as careful as possible and some idiot would blab. All it takes is one damn junkie. The only other option is to sell it all in one sale to minimize the risk, but I have no knowledge of anyone that needs that much Blue Dream and has the coin to buy it. Annah, this is REALLY dangerous to even have this in your possession. You have to know that."
"I know I only got one fucking eye, a leg that has a permanent limp and deep scars on my back now thanks to the damn Syndicate. I might not be able to do anything to them, but I'm getting something out of them. They don't know anyway. As I said, they thought the Blue Dream was lost by one of the other poor sons of bitches they killed."
"And you just happened to have it hidden somewhere the whole time of course."
"I had a back up plan. I always do."

You rub your eyes and shake your head. Annah looks at you with her one good eye and realizes that she may have assumed too much.

"Alright. I can see you can't help me. It's okay. I get it. You got a nice life and don't want to fuck that up. Thanks for at least hearing me out for old times sake." Annah says.

Annah goes to take the bag, and that's when you stop her.

"Hang on. Didn't say I couldn't help you. Though I'm wondering why I should…(sigh) fuck it. I'm hoping I'm doing this because I'm greedy, because if it's because I still having feelings for you, I truly am an idiot. I got an idea of how I can unload this. Letting you know right now however, I'm taking full advantage and bending you over good on this deal." You say.
"You going to kiss me and tell me I'm still pretty at least?" Annah replies.
"Of course. No reason I can't still be a gentleman."

You tell Annah to wait and you head to the back of the store where your living quarters are and then go to your personal safe where you take out the remainder of what savings you have left. It's still not as much as what the Blue Dream is worth, but as you already told her, Annah's going to have to be satisfied with the deal.

You come back and find Annah petting Checkers in her lap. You then hand her a new bag of loot, which Annah looks in.

"It's the best I can do Annah." You say.
"This will do. I can take this and easily make more with it, if need be. Learned a few gambling tricks while in Delantium. Um, this isn't going to fuck up things with your new girl is it?" Annah asks.
"Zalmora? Eh, I think I'll be able to talk my way out of it though. Hope so at least."
"Maybe you shouldn't tell her then."
"Hah. She'd figure out I was hiding something and I'd just get into more trouble. If I've learned anything, I'm shit at deception when it comes to those I happen to be intimate with."
"Well give me the Blue Dream back, I don't want to cause you unnecessary trouble. I did enough of that when we were together."
"Don't worry about it. I used all my savings rather than the store's anyway. So while she'll probably call me an idiot and ask if I fucked you or not, that's probably where it will end, then we'll figure out who we can sell the Blue Dream to and get rich.
"Wait, this is ALL your savings?"
"Yep. You've got it all again. Just think, you didn't even have to steal it this time."
"Y'know, I'm really sorry about that. I wish…"
"Forget it Annah. It was a long time ago and I got over it."

Annah puts Checkers down and slowly stands up. She briefly smiles and moves towards you.

"I…wish things had been different." Annah says getting a bit of a quiver in her voice.
"Things are what they are. No point in dwelling on them now."

Annah looks down and nods. She sniffles and rubs her eye.

"Just, take care of yourself okay? And for fuck's sake don't have anymore dealings with the Ebony Claw Syndicate."
"I won't and I won't forget this either."

Annah suddenly moves in quick and gives you a kiss you on the lips.

"You're still my first and only love. You always will be." Annah says and then turns around to exit the shop. She limps as quickly as she can with Checkers faithfully following her.

And she's gone again.

It's still a little unreal to you and you even get a little emotional after your encounter with Annah.

After composing yourself, you focus on what she left you with, namely a shitload of Blue Dream. Despite what you told Annah, you're not really sure how you're going to get rid of it with ease. Zal will probably have some ideas, though you're dreading the conversation you're going to have to have with her. Fortunately you've got a few days to prepare yourself.

A few days pass and Zal still isn't back yet. When two more days pass after that, you stop worrying about your conversation with Zal and just start to worry in general. Your worries are soon answered when a little boy suddenly comes running in your shop that day with a note saying someone on the edge of Hessla gave him this message to give to you.

Pretty boy,

Bring ALL your shit now or the bitch dies.

Sincerely,

Flameflower

Your heart sinks and you feel sick. At first you wonder why Flame is doing this since your "business relationship" with her and her gang was always positive.

Then again, does it matter what the reasons are? She's a fucking violent criminal and the risk was always there. The important thing is she's holding Zal hostage and you have to do something about it.

[User] You comply with the note

[Assistant]
You're not some hardened bandit. In fact, you've probably gotten a little out of shape due to your less strenuous life. You are not going to be able to just go in Flame's camp and take everyone out like some warrior priest of Karn.

You'd just get yourself and Zal killed at best if you tried to save her. Granted that could happen anyway, but you're hoping that if you grovel enough, it'll appeal to Flame's ego enough that she'll be amused enough to let you both go. It's not going to be fun, but if it's what is going to get the job done then so be it.

You go to the store safe and empty it all out. You hope it's enough since it's been a slower month this month. You also wish you hadn't given away your own savings to Annah since you probably could have used it assuming you get out of this. You guess you really will be selling Blue Dream for a while.

It then occurs to you that maybe you can use it as extra bargaining. You decide to take a couple vials in the hopes that you can convince Flameflower, you can get her a lot more of the stuff if she doesn't kill you or Zal.

You're nervous as all hell, but you compose yourself trying to keep focused on saving Zal. Once your get yourself in that state of mind, you leave.

From past conversations with Zalmora, you remember the general location of Flame's hideout. Takes about a day, but eventually you find it thanks to Flame's people being fairly loud while wandering around the area.

You figure you'll speed this up by surrendering to Flame's men as they'll take you straight to her, so you call out to the ones you see and begin putting up your hands stating that Flameflower is expecting you. Three bandits come at you, with one pointing a crossbow at you.

First thing they do is search you for weapons and take the bag of loot off of you. When one with a full beard looks inside, his eyes bug out.

"Fucking nice." He says.
"Never seen anyone shit all stupid as you walking around with this small fortune without even a weapon. You must have goblin shit for brains." A younger looking bandit adds.
"As I said, Flameflower is expecting me and that small fortune you're holding is hers." You say.
"Sounds about right, that's way more than that bitch would ever share with us." The biggest one says.
"Y'know this is the first I'm hearing of this. Who are you?" the bearded one holding the loot asks.

You explain who you are and the situation, and while they vaguely know about Flameflower having ongoing dealings with people in Hessla, it seems like these three have only just been informed of her recent plan as apparently they haven't been back to the camp for awhile and been trying to find easy picking on the road with no success.

"Well, guess we better take this asshole back to Flame." The young bandit says.
"What for?" the bearded one asks.
"He just said she's expecting him, that's why dipshit." The tall one says.
"Yeah, I know that you lanky horse fucker, I'm just saying it's not like she knows he's coming right this minute. There's nobody around. We could just kill this fucker and take this for ourselves. I mean shit, we've just spent days out here and for what? Fucking foot rot and nearly getting our asses shot by all too well equipped caravans, because she didn't see fit to send more people with us."
"I dunno. What if this gets back to Flame? She'll fucking have our balls for breakfast."
"Who says we need to even stick around? I mean there's enough here for the three of us to live okay for awhile. At least enough to not have to fumble around in this fucking wilderness for an existence."
"Y'know what, you're right. FUCK Flameflower. That bitch gave me fucking crotch rot on three separate occasions. I'm surprised I even got a dick left. Let's take this shit and head to Hessla." The young one finally says in an outburst.

This has gone horribly wrong. You need to get out of here now. While the bandits are still talking about their plans you immediately turn to run.

"Shit!" the youngest one says and immediately gives chase.

At one time you probably could have outran him, but again you've been a little out of shape since your quieter time with Zalmora and he eventually tackles you to the ground.

The pair of you struggle for awhile, but despite being out of practice, you still prove to be stronger and manage to overpower the young bandit, killing him with his own dagger.

And then you feel a bolt go into your back causing you to collapse on top of the bandit you just killed.

You struggle to crawl away, but the tall bandit who just shot you takes his time and manages to reload and finish you off with another bolt to your head.


[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 go and hack up Milt

[Assistant] You go out into the cold and begin digging around for Milt's body. Instead you find your strength fading from you and slowly sink into the snow. You are found there the next morning, frozen stiff and very dead.


[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 don't take Ulivik

[Assistant]
While it's an interesting possibility, you're not training soldiers anymore; you're done with that mess and quite frankly, you doubt if Ulivik would make a good warrior of any kind.

"Look kid, I've put up with you for quite some time now, but enough is enough. I told you, go down to Kenneth's Rest and get a job. If you're too much of a sissy to disobey your parents, then you ain't gonna have what it takes to be a merc in the first place. Now leave me the hell alone, or I'm gonna hurt you very very badly and you don't want that."

Ulivik tries to beg some more, but after a few menacing glares and threatening steps towards him, he backs off, saddened by your hostility. Having gotten rid of Ulivik, you set off for a different town further north, they're always having problems up there.

A few months later when you're back in Keplavisk, you fully expect Ulivik to be bothering you again, but you see no sign of him which is odd since he always seems to know exactly when you come into town. While getting a drink at the tavern you ask the barkeep in passing where he is.

"Oh that dark elven boy? Ran off and got himself killed a couple months ago. Damn fool was trying to be a mercenary and I guess some bandits finally taught him that he wasn't. Good riddance I say. Don't need any of their kind around, didn't like 'em when they were doing thug work for the Empire…erm, no offence Mr. Bane…"
"Hmm, just gimme my drink." You say.

While Ulivik's death doesn't affect you on any emotional level, you are a little surprised to hear about it. You didn't think he actually would have the heart to try to strike out on his own. Oh well, that's how it is in this business though, one moment you're here the next you aren't. Everything is fleeting and you can't worry about tomorrow, you just have to live for today.

Life for you continues on as usual.

Year 50

You wake up from another night of debauchery and predictably you feel pretty terrible from it. Your head hurts and your body aches all over, of course your body would ache anyway. The years have been taking a toll on how you push yourself physically and the battles you fight. The excessive parties in between really don't help though.

You just lay in bed for a while dreading the fact that you'll be running out of coin soon again and have to go to work again. It's an endless cycle, and while the freedom you've enjoyed since leaving the Empire has been nice, the past couple of years you've started feel like something is missing. Namely purpose and direction. The Empire had numerous faults, but in the beginning it did give you such things and part of you misses it.

You begin to wonder if you shouldn't go join Edgar in his Eternal Dominion or maybe offer to serve the Felkan Kingdom to give yourself some sort of goal larger than yourself. You quickly dismiss such thoughts though for several reasons, one of the biggest ones being that you now you've had your taste of freedom, you don't really want to be following orders from a large government again. (Let alone Edgar)

Of course maybe you just need a change of scenery and just leave this area entirely. There certainly nothing really tying you down except perhaps your own comfort of familiarity. You've spent more than half of your life in Rask, hell it's actually been more of your "home" than the Empire ever was so despite your emotional disconnect with people, you 're a little attached to the area.

[User] You leave Rask

[Assistant]
You've lived in Rask as an "occupier" and as a "citizen" and neither one have really fulfilled you. You decide that it might very well be time to leave. You have no idea where you're going to go or what you're going to do, but you guess you'll figure it out eventually.

You pack up what belongings you can carry and do a little shopping for other necessities before you set off on your journey. When you eventually get to the Rask border, you take a look back, wondering if you'll ever return one day…

You don't.

You spend your remaining years traveling far from Rask, far from old Empire territory and far from any land you've ever known. While some of it is interesting, you still never feel "content." You mostly support yourself just by living off the land and doing some occasional mercenary work when passing through towns and villages. You never do settle down in one area for long though.

You might be an Eternal and your fighting spirit is always willing, but that doesn't stop the ravages of time from taking their toll on your body. Between the constant traveling and the combat, your body is aching all the time. You aren't as fast or as strong as you used to be and you often forget you aren't young anymore, or more likely you have full knowledge of it and are just too stubborn to change.

Your unwillingness to settle down and die peacefully in your bed eventually catches up with you during a mercenary job you take in some small town in a far away land. Bandits are raiding the town on a regular basis and you take part in defending it. You do well enough for a man your age, but ultimately you are brought down by several of them who manage to surround and gain the advantage over you.

You fall to several sword blows to your body and collapse in a bloody heap in the streets of the town.