[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 try to negotiate with him

[Assistant]
You: "Wait a second! You don't have to kill me, I don't even know what are you talking about, what's this thing about me having escaped, anyways?"

He: "Hey, what can I do? I have my orders"

You: "Hell if I know… take me back to the place from where I escaped, for instance?"

He: "Well, that sound like a good idea, yeah"

 He leads you to his car and once there he drives you to who knows where, which seems to be at least in the other side of the city.

 During the relatively short journey you wonder what's the deal with this guy, since he is supposed to kill you but doesn't even seem to know you or be all that smart to start with. Like, it was you who suggested going back "there", so maybe if you had said "just let me go" he might have gone and done that. And now that you think it, it certainly would have been easy to lose him in the streets of that city. Ah well, no sense crying now.

 You get out of the car accompanied by the man, and notice that you are standing in front of what appears to be a huge hospital. You realize that once you go in there, there's no coming back, but at the same time you understand that right now you can't do anything else other than going in there or dying, which is bad >.<

 You enter the "hospital" and the suited man leads you to some office in there. After knocking on the door and having a brief conversation with whoever is behind the door, you are eventually told to come in (the damn psycho didn't take his eyes off you for a second while you were out there >.<). Once in the room, you see a dark-haired woman in her early thirties who looks like she's damn bored, who is sitting in front of a laptop writing something.

She: "So... you can't remember anything, right?"

You: "Exactly"

She: "You see, we applied some… experimental treatment on you while we were in this very hospital, and before that you accepted to work under us. When you accepted that, you knew you were accepting to work for us or we would have to kill you"

You: 'I don't really think I would have accepted an agreement under those terms, but what can I do' "I see"

She: "However, you escaped somehow before the treatment was over, and it's true that we think you might have been helped to escape, or even forced to do so by some outsider. That's why we are going to allow you to join us again in the same terms"

You: "So I either join you with no chance of leaving or…?"

She: "you die, obviously. That doesn't mean you are a prisoner here or that you'll never get out of here in the future"

You: "Well… I suppose I have no choice…"

 Let's say you're now part of a special group with strange and useful powers (or something) that were "awakened" by an injection of drugs, toxic artificial things and who knows what else straight into your blood (as a mere agent, no one is going to explain the whole process to you). You are not really sure if you'll be working under the good guys or the bad guys, and right now you don't even know what's your "power" (as much as that woman tells you that it's obvious that you have one and you probably have already exhibited it spontaneously). Oh well, at least it sounds like this might be funny xD

 Well, as far as endings go, this could have been much worse, congrats!

END


[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 knock Out

[Assistant]
Rolling to the side, his foot smashes into the ground inches away from your head.  Pulling your foot back, you shout as you slam it into Gro'tesk's knee.  As his knee pushes in, he cries out and falls forward, catching himself with his hands.

You push yourself up into a crouch as you run forward, reeling your fist back.  But you lose your balance and skid forward.  Fortunately, you use the momentum to plant your fist into the side of his head.  He grunts as the full force of your attack hits him, his head snapping to the side and his body twisting.

He lays still, and you crawl backward, just in case….

But he just lays on the ground.  All of the onlookers gasp, never having seen their mighty chief get knocked out cold.  You stand up and dust yourself off, and just right after the chief rolls over onto his back.

Rubbing his face and sitting up he looks at you, still dazed.

"I win.",

He stares at you blankly for a moment.

"Fine!"

With the help of a couple of onlookers, he stands up and stumbles his way over to his hut, rubbing his head as he tries to figure out how he could have lost.

You smirk and follow him in to give him your terms.


[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 Cannot Abide The Senseless Slaughter You're Scheming, you Would Rather Die

[Assistant]
Humanity may not be perfect, but it certainly doesn't deserve the kind of death and destruction the Craxil has in mind.  You announce to her that you would rather die than support her in this plan.  You were terrified that this being might become infuriated and attack, but instead she calmly and slowly backs away... then looks to your sister.  Your sister looks back at the Craxil and you realize the Craxil has just given her a nonverbal order.  By now your sister's blade is unsheathed and she is coming at you.

She fights with a furocity and intent that is completely out of character for your shy and reserved little sister, but her physical strength is the same.  There is nothing special about her swordplay technique either and you are pleased to see that you can block and parry her attacks.  Still, this is your sister, and you don't want to kill her if you don't have to.  The Craxil is obviously enjoying this and you can't help but think that if you could just find some way of killing her then perhaps your sister can be saved.

The Craxil is currently in her noncorporeal true form, but she has taken corporeal forms before when she was watching you.  You wonder if striking her while she's in one of these corporeal forms might actually damage her.  Alternatively, you wonder why a shapeshifting being with noncorporeal capability would even need others to spread the plague in the first place.  Perhaps she isn't immune like you once thought or perhaps she felt secure from it in her noncorporeal form.  Would you still need to get her into corporeal form for that first or could you try and give it to her while she's in her noncorporeal state.  Or perhaps there is some other way of getting your sister back to normal.  Unlike you, she knows some very basic magic.  Perhaps she will have something that will damage the Craxil in its noncorporeal state.

While your mind wonders to ponder these things, your sister manages to get a shallow cut across your right shoulder and you respond by kicking her onto the ground and stopping down on her sword hand.  You remove your sister's weapon and the Craxil moves in as if to protect its vassal.  You quickly begin to go over your previous ideas in your head knowing you will need to try something and soon lest the Craxil decides to attack first.

[User] You call Out To Your Sister And Try To Free Her From Her Servitude

[Assistant]
You call out to your sister and try to reach her as her brother.  You remind her of the grove you two played in when you were young.  You recall times when you organized a surprise gathering for her birthday.  You remind her how much she cares about the well being of others and beg her to come to her senses.  Unfortunately, whatever magicks control her mind apparently override any logical or emotional argument you put forth and she instantly follows whatever order the Craxil gives her.

You have her weapon, but she still has her basic spell casting abilities.  She puts a magic missile into your leg and you are unable to stand.  From here, the Craxil decides to turn you into another one of her mindless thralls.  You spend your days serving her whims, spreading the plague, and standing guard against intruders until one day many monthes later a real hero lops your head off while fighting the Craxil's minions.

THE END


[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 sophisticated stealing

[Assistant]
At least you know how to reload a basic handgun while totally clueless about anything else. What is there to blame besides yourself? You were nuts, and you still are right now. You load the inside the barrel of your pistol with a fresh clip and proceed to approach the gas station slowly. You park the car just behind the wall surrounding the place and sneak into the yard on foot. Before the employer, a man in mid 40 can sense you, his hands have already raised behind his head as you hold him up at gunpoint.

"Sorry for this." You say, looking frantically side by side. "Get me 6 litters of gasoline. Try anything funny and I will torch this place down in an instant."

"A-Alright." He answers your order by slowly walking towards the container to grab the cans. "Here...just chill out, okay?"

"Good. Grab those and go forward." You demand, wanting to be sure of your position to the eyes of any people outside. "Turn around now."

You lead him back to your vehicle, the poor man is struggling to carry the fuel one by one.

"Open all of the covers, I want to see them."

He does so and backs away to the wall, allowing you to have a look at the containers...Yep! It seems like all of them are pure gasoline alright.

"Good. Now go back to your place and I swear if I see the cops hogging the horn anytime now, I'll mark all flammable stuffs inside that place my practicing target. Are we clear on that?"

"Yeah...I see your point." He says, throwing a dirty look behind you as you get in your car.

"Nice doing business with you, mate." You crack a smile at your victim. "Good bye."

Yeah, screw all of that moral bullshit. You got the gun, you are the winner.


[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 ignore Jessica

[Assistant]
You barely acknowledge Jessica's presence. She's one of your sister's friends anyway, which makes you even less inclined to help her. You say something about being really busy and having a lot to do on your own computer right now. As Jessica leaves, you continue to think about Mom, and that kiss.

Lunch time comes around and you sit to ponder it even more, fortunately without your idiot "friend" Aaron buzzing in your ear. You hear your sister's boyfriend Butch bragging at the next table about some chick he slept with last night, that apparently wasn't your sister. This is why your sister SHOULD listen to Mom! She knows what's best, and knows how to protect you from bad people.

Lunch ends and you attend the rest of your classes without incident. Finally after school lets out, you run into your sister. She sees you, but refuses to talk to you.

[User] You go talk to your sister

[Assistant]
Even though you know your sister doesn't like Mom, she's still family, and needs to realize that Mom's only looking out for her. You have to convince her.

You go up to your sister who doesn't want anything to do with you after this morning, but you tell her what Butch was bragging about. She doesn't care and while she claims she doesn't believe you, you can tell she does, but her dislike for you and Mom is greater than Butch's infidelity. You start to get angry and start to yell at her saying that she doesn't know what's good for her, you attempt to get physical, but Butch stops you as he's coming out of the school.

This results in you picking up a nearby rock, and smacking him in the head with it a couple times knocking him to the ground, your sister runs off and you go chasing after her in an attempt to show her the "light".

You finally catch her in the park, where you give her an ultimatium of either obey Mom's rules or die. Your sister can't believe how over the edge you've gone until you start choking her. So enthusiastic you are to display your loyalty to Mom by "punishing" your sister, you don't even hear a passing police officer say "GET YOUR HANDS OF THE GIRL OR I'LL SHOOT!"
The officer was enthusiastic too.

You feel three bullets hit you in the body, one more in the head and then you feel nothing...


[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 eat the meat

[Assistant]
Reluctantly you eat the flesh which ensures your survival. Days after the double-deaths and the beginning of cannibalism a rescue party arrives led by William Eddy and William Foster. They talk to George Donner about who can be rescued: Donner's daughters Frances, Georgia and Eliza are quickly volunteered and both Jean Baptiste and Nicholas Clark choose to leave as well. Though Tamzene Donner is in good health she refuses to leave her bed-ridden husband George Donner and their nephew Samuel is too weak to be carried and near death. The rescuers prepare to leave with the four members of the Donner Party from Alder Creek and a boy called Simon Murphy from the Truckee Lake camp. You can ask them to take you as well or stay and help George, Tamzene and Samuel Donner.

What do you do?


[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 roll out of the way

[Assistant]
You dive out of the way, as Draven flies just past you, swinging his sword. His sword slices into the back of your neck, not enough to seriously wound but enough to hurt like a bitch. He slams into the door behind you, grunting as he spins around. He wipes the blood from his broken nose as he stares at the two of you, before letting out a horrible laugh.

"Got too excited there, didn't I? Ha!" he smiles, twirling the sword around in his hands.

You look around desperately, for something, ANYTHING in the room to help you out. Dasha is just as in the cross-hairs as you are, and seems terrified. Haygarth is hiding behind a counter, unfocused and not thinking. Most of the horses are dead, having had their heads cleaved clean off. Still, there's three or four in the farther stables. There's two large, oil-filled lamps illuminating the hallways that could be used. Fire has a history of being effective with monsters. Finally, there's the old full lead solution. If you just duck, weave and fill the air with as much lead, or in this case silver, as possible to take out the vampire bastard, although silver bullets are more of a werewolf-killer.

[User] You get to the horses

[Assistant]
You sprint towards the horses, your rifle held tightly in your hands as you run towards them. Draven charges ahead with a howl, kicking your leg away as you collapse onto the ground, laughing.

"Look at you try to run! Where are you trying to run to, little one?" he asks, before his eyes flicker to Dasha who goes for the door.

Draven runs ahead with an animalistic howl, slamming her into the door. He presses the sword to her throat, before throwing into the air and catching it once more.

"Ohh... this is everything! Savor the hunt!" he says. "Go! Try escape again! Or are you in a fighting mood?"

[User] You try for the horses again

[Assistant]
You sprint towards the horses once more, as Draven pauses, raising an eyebrow as he strolls after you. You reach the horses, as Draven walks towards you. You unclasp the gate as the horses stand there.

"What... what was your plan?" he asks, looking genuinely confused. "Were you hoping to have the horses stampede me? Were you planning on riding one to safety?"

Draven twirls his sword, running it through you. You grunt in pain, blood dripping out your mouth as you collapse to your knees.

"I've had my fun. Goodnight, ghoul," he says.

You collapse forward onto your stomach, running the sword even further into 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] You convince Olive that Castus is right

[Assistant]
"Look, we can't guarantee anything. We don't know what's going to happen. Castus is right, we'd be killed if we don't rebel. Other than a chance, a simple chance, at freedom and life, I don't think we can start making deals for anything more," you say, putting all your energy into weaving an offer made almost entirely of bullshit.

Olive narrows her eyes.

"Fine. But let me tell you this, if I find myself with the shit side of the stick, I'm going to cause a lot of problems."

"You can trust me," you say, as sincerely as possible.

"Fine," Olive says.

Olive extends a hand, which you grip and shake extensively. Castus extends his hand, which you grab, but he twists your arm around, causing you to yelp painfully. He kicks away your foot and sends you to your knee, before bringing his sword up to your throat.

"Dead," he says with a smile.

"Well shit, Castus, what's wrong with you?"

"What? I was just preparing him for fighting. I thought we were supposed to be training him. First lesson, kid: trust no one. Now, get up."

Olive offers you a hand, smiling.


[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 lead from the back

[Assistant]
While you may still have many years ahead of you, the days of your prime are starting to fade. Perhaps you need to start accepting the fact that your days of charging first into battle are gone and probably should be. Your mind is more important for running the Empire than your sword arm or even your battle magic at this point.

There's also the fact that it's true, you don't relish the idea of being on a boat. You decide to that you're going to sit this one out.

A week goes by and business in the Empire continues as usual, but you hear nothing from the large fleet that you sent out. One of the faster messenger ships should've at least come back to give a report by now.

Another week goes by and you know something is terribly wrong. There has been no word back from your fleet. Naturally the families of the soldiers and sailors that left on this mission are very upset. True, that their lives are always in potential danger, but everyone labored under the impression that it would be a quick mix up with the Island League and then heading back home. Even if there were losses it would be acceptable, but as it stands nobody knows exactly what happened. They're just gone, all of them.

Like the waters just swallowed them all up, and for all anyone knows, maybe it has.

Such mystery is frightening especially when you're getting more sightings of fish people now off the coasts of Nalin. These fish people have also started outright attacking orcish settlements near the shores in Quala. It'll only be a matter of time before they start attacking Nalin as well.

Doesn't take long before you've not only got on going raids from the coast, but also rabble rousing from the orcs. Warlord Sprog has been actively condemning you for failing to eliminate this threat like you were supposed to and begins claiming that the orcs have been taking the brunt of the attacks. He also openly says to any and all who will listen that they would be better off on their own. Naturally when you hear about this treason talk you have several Eyes sent to go bring him in.

He succeeds in slaying five of them before escaping into the Arat wilderness with several followers. With your inability to fend off the fish people properly, the loss of your entire fleet, a panicked population and now an orc rebellion in the making, you know you have dark days ahead.

Year 552

Being a tyrant is one thing, but being one who can't protect his territory and is inefficient is even worse so when the troubles started piling up, you decided you couldn't afford to just sit back and command anymore. You had to take direct action and lead from the front like you did before.

Getting the population back in line took a bit of doing from the Eyes, but it was done.

The orcs were a bigger problem and a costly one. Warlord Sprog continued to incite your orc population to the point where Quala and parts of Rask were hostile territory. It about a year before you personally slew Sprog in combat. The damage was done however, they razed several towns, even Regnik in Arat was destroyed. Though you suspect that Eldolith might've had something to do with that. Probably secretly funding or helping Sprog somehow or got spies into the city to lower the gates.

You also had no more orc population to use as soldiers anymore and those that lived took to the wilderness and continue to be a nuisance. It was a waste of resources and manpower that quite frankly you couldn't afford to lose.

During the whole time this was happening you couldn't really effectively combat the fish people threat who continued to raid the coasts and in much greater force. Some have been so bold to even create camps along the shores of Quala. Most of Nalin's port towns were still fairly well defended in the beginning, but then the sea beast arrived and completely destroyed most of them. The leviathan has two heads and countless tentacles. You believe it is the "god" of the fish people, or at least leading them.

Unfortunately the beast never stays near the coast and retreats back to the deeper water when it's done rampaging. There's nothing for it except to go out there and kill it.

You have another fleet built in the southern most port town in Nalin since the fish people haven't attacked that far yet. Building the fleet take awhile though due to the decreased labor force and having to practically restart from scratch again. The whole time you're building the fleet you're anticipating an attack from the fish people, you half expect the usksha to attack you with claims that you're planning to invade them. Thankfully that doesn't happen.

When it's all said and done, you've got a new fleet, though much smaller than before, but you can't afford to wait too much longer. The quick you kill the monster the better. You have to win back your considerable losses. You've been made to look foolish and sometimes weak these past couple of years. Time to put an end to that once and for all.

And after you kill this thing, your next order of business will be to invade Arat.

No more than a day has passed and your fleet is already attacked by fish people. They were never the best fighters, but they aren't worst either and being on their territory as well as being outnumbered certainly gives them an advantage as some don't even bother to scale your ships and just bore holes in the ships with whatever tools they're using for such a task. You've lost half of your fleet by the time the sea monster makes its presence known and now having seen it first hand with your own eyes, you feel incredibly small in comparison. Stories about how it "blotted out the sun" weren't exaggerations. It is just that huge and you're surrounded by water with no where to run.

You try to cast a lightning storm, but the ship is being so overrun with the aquatic invaders that you can't possibly concentrate on such a spell. Your crew fights bravely, but they're just so outnumbered that they can't defeat the numbers or keep from completely panicking that they're going to die on the water this day.

A large tentacle smashes the deck of the ship and also succeeds in smashing three of your increasingly dwindling crew. You run your sword through another fishman and dodge the other tentacle coming from the other side.

Even if you do survive this, you're not sure if you'll even be able to get back to land within a reasonable amount of time. You've lost every ship and your own is now in danger of becoming driftwood if it takes any more punishment, which it most certainly will.

You blast a group of the fishmen with lightning which gives you a breather, but only so you're just in time to see another tentacle come sweeping towards you. Unfortunately you don't quite get out of the way in time and the hefty blow shatters your legs. This also has enough force to knock you off the boat and into the water.

You struggle a bit in the water desperately trying to keep above it, but soon the claws of several fish men grab at your broken legs and torso. Your struggling is put to a complete end when one of them rises up out the water to sink his teeth into your throat.


[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 go in together, through the back

[Assistant]
"We both go through the back, take the fucker out quickly so we'll have time to get the drop on the main target. Get the drop on the Thrall, finish him, The longer we take with the thrall, the more likely that the night haunt will wake up and get the drop on one of us."

"I understand. Best of luck, William."

"And to you, Father."

The two of you walk towards the house, weapons at the ready. Surprisingly for a vampire's lair, your surveillance has said that the house is completely lacking in any serious security measures. Locked doors and windows, sure, but they're lacking the reinforced doors, security cameras. It's a young vampire, so you're not expecting legions of Thralls protecting him or runic blood magic protecting the house, but clearly the power's gone to this creature's head.

Moving slowly and softly through the garden around to the back, you still your breaths and do your best to be as soundless as the shadows. You creep through the rose bushes, whose petals look almost eerily beautiful in the moonlight. The sky's light brightens your path, but also makes it harder to sneak, and you just stay low and hope that if the Thrall happens to be looking out the window, he isn't looking too hard.

Edging around to the back, you draw close to the  wooden door. You look to Father Féval, who nods to you almost imperceptibly slowly. You move to the door, standing ready, before striking. You raise your shotgun, firing through the door's lock as you boot it open, quickly stepping through the now opened doorway and into the house.

The Thrall stands in the kitchen, his back turned to you.The Thrall is a short, bearded man, growling and shaking his head repeatedly as he divides a pile of crushed and broken white crystals, no doubt a substitute between his feedings on the vampiric blood he's heavily addicted to. The man quickly turns, his crazed, blood-shot eyes bulging at you as he sees you.

His eyes dart up to you as he growls, an animalistic sound that could only come from a beast. With a roar, he charges for you, as you pump your shotgun and put a round into him, firing straight through the thrall's chest. He screams, his clothes lighting into flames as he screams, catapulted into the wall. He slides down the wall, screaming out in anger and pain, a noise of such intense rage that it chills you. Father Féval walks in quickly, his guns raised. He stands over the bleeding, burning man, raising his pistols to aim at his heads.

"Les flammes les plus méritées brûlent le plus chaud, pécheur. Que Dieu ait pitié de ce qui reste de votre âme misérable et trouve la miséricorde sur votre âme," Father Féval says calmly.

The two pistols fire, the Thrall's face exploding as blood and gore coats his wild hair and thick beard, his head caving in as the bullets carve their way through.

"Let's kill this Vampire and be done with this place," Father Féval says to you.

"Let's," you say, pumping your shotgun as your next shell enters the chamber.

[User] You take out the coffin

[Assistant]
You quickly head down the staircase of the basement, descending into the dark basement, lit by a dim candle. You slow down as you notice the counters piled with jars filled to the brim with red liquid. A bloody metal table sits there with unopened leather straps, a series of tubing and IV's connected to it. You're certain that it's equipment to drain the blood of victims the Thrall captures, to feed his master when he doesn't wish to hunt for himself.

However, the highlight of the room is a large, ornate coffin, leaning against a concrete wall. You've seen enough coffins in your life for any man, but this one is a fairly nice one. It's solid wood, cherry, with brass handles, sitting up on its side so its resident can sleep standing up. The face on the front of the coffin shows a grinning, gargoyle-like face made of brass, its eyes shining at you. You flinch at the sight of it, nervous about what lies behind it.

"Let's do it," Father Féval says.

You hurry up to the coffin, readying your shotgun as Father Féval takes the other side.

"I take the chest, you take the head," you say, as Father Féval nods.

Quickly, the two of you perform the breaching mechanism. Swinging around and standing back, you quickly measure the size of the coffin and roughly calculate where the center of its heart is. You aim, your fingers tightening on the trigger as you fire the weapon, as does Father Féval.

Your shotgun bucks, firing lead and magnesium shards directly through the heavy wood of the coffin. You fire three times as the wood splinters and explodes away, your shells bursting through them as they tear through the coffin. Father Féval's rounds tear through where the head of the vampire should lie, bursting through the wood and hitting through inside. After a few seconds, the sound of gunfire calms as you look at Father Féval.

"Let us confirm the kill," Father Féval says.

Stepping forward, you grab the handle of the coffin and wretch it open, tearing open the splintered and almost destroyed door. Staring inside, you find splintered wood and torn apart coffin... but no vampire, or no ash to show a clean kill.

"That was expensive," a dark, chilling voice says. "You'll pay for that."

Your voice chills when you hear the voice, but you know it's not the time for tears. Turning your head, you find yourself staring up at a tall, deathly pale figure standing behind Father Féval, its arms wrapped around him, baring a pair of ivory daggers that descend from its upper jaw, fangs so sharp and long they could tear out Father Féval's throat in an instant. It's skin seems almost entirely hairless except for the thick black hair that hangs down from its head. Its eyes, however... its blood red eyes betray an inhumanity that you'll never be able to comprehend.

"Don't move, or your friend gets it," the Vampire says. "Drop your weapons. Slowly."

"Shoot it!" Father Féval gasps, as the Vampire steps almost perfectly behind the priest, obscuring your shot.

Surrender isn't an option. This creature needs to die, or neither you nor Father Féval will ever get out of here.

[User] You shoot through Father Féval

[Assistant]
You fire your shotgun straight through Father Féval's chest without a moment's pause, knowing the way of the Hunter. You're going to do what's right, not what's empathetic, and you'd expect Father Féval to blow you away in a moment in order to fight the good fight.

However, the blast fails to completely burst through Father Féval's chest, the burning magnesium shards lacking the penetration power you require, and the few lead balls tearing their way through his flesh are simply incapable of killing a Vampire.

Father Féval's dying corpse is tossed into you, and you shove the body aside with a yell. However, it's far too late, and the vampire rams you against the wall. His fangs tear through the air and into your throat, biting down and tearing it out of your neck with a burst of blood. You gasp for air, but only blood fills your throat and lungs as you find yourself incapable of breathing. You paw desperately at the Vampire's face as he laughs again, before dipping his face into your bleeding neck and beginning to drain your blood.

Soon, the blood loss and shock snuffs the light in your eyes, and your body goes numb.


[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 be a pirate

[Assistant]
Why not, it isn't like you got anything else important going on.

The man who was recruiting is still visible, so you hurry your pace to catch up to him. You say you'll join and he is glad you changed your mind. He mentions his name is Scully and leads you to the Steadfast.

When Scully said the Steadfast wasn't the biggest ship in the harbor, he wasn't kidding. Not that it's a rowboat and it definitely needs a crew to sail it, but compared to some of the others you've seen, you can tell you're not exactly going to be sailing with anyone of great infamy. You imagine that's why Scully said they mostly raid small coastal villages.

Other than being a smaller ship, it doesn't look like it's falling apart so it's at least in good shape. Feels weird just being on it though you don't feel sick. Hopefully you won't when it's actually sailing.

You meet a few other milling crew members, but they don't say much to you other than some grunts. One of them mentions where the sleeping quarters are and says don't worry about which hammock to take because most of them are no longer in use anyway.

"Scully mentioned something about a lot of the crew getting killed, what happened exactly?" You ask.
"Mermaids." He mutters, but doesn't elaborate and just tells you he's got work to do.

You don't know anything about mermaids other than a few tales you've heard. You would ask one of the other crew members, but they don't seem all that talkative to the likes of you.

A few hours pass as you wander the ship a bit and generally stand around doing nothing. You sort of thought someone would order you to do some work or earn your keep, but that hasn't happened yet. You almost feel like you're a passenger rather than a proper crew member. Not that you're complaining.

You eventually see Scully again who says the Captain wants to meet you. So you head back above deck where you meet the captain who doesn't look like you thought.

He's practically an old man who is having a hard time walking with a cane. He's dressed better than everyone else on the ship, but that isn't saying much since even his fancy overcoat has patches sewn on it.

He introduces himself as Captain Rifiv and says he hopes you prove to be a better crewman than the lot that got themselves killed recently. Especially since you're apparently the ONLY person Scully was able to recruit!

"What exactly happened anyway?" You ask.
"Mermaids or sirens. I dunno, whatever those underwater singing fish bitches are called. We were far to the southwest and coming back from a relatively successful haul. Everything was going well, and then someone said their heard singing. I instantly knew what the hell it was and told everyone to start shoving wax in their ears and don't look over the sides of the ship because those scaly sluts got a way of hypnotizing most men and making them do their bidding."
"Sounds like logical precautions."
"You'd think so, except some of my genius crew thought they'd be heroes or something and they started looking over the side and firing their pistol into the water. Yeah, they saw one of those bitches, fell in love and before I know it, they're not only removing the wax from their ears, but they start attacking others and removing their wax or outright killing them. After it was all said and done, half of the crew was dead. Now I gotta recruit all over again and stick to places that have virtually no resistance until strength is built back up. You know what kind of places those are? Places that are poor as shit!"

Captain Rifiv at this point starts ranting in general as he goes back to his quarters. Meanwhile a few of the crew roll their eyes and mutter to themselves.

"You'll have to excuse the captain, he just really hates set backs. It's really not as bad as all that, we'll hit a few easy targets and in time things will start picking up again." Scully says in a positive tone.
"Are we going to have to worry about mermaids?" You ask.
"Oh no, we're going to be sticking to more familiar northern waters for awhile. Those lovely creatures won't be a problem where we're going."

Scully seems to be a bit lost in thought when he mentions the mermaids. Looks like they really had an effect on him, but he doesn't seem shaken by the experience. The opposite actually, like he vaguely seems disappointed that you probably won't be encountering them on this trip.

Well given what the captain said happened, you at least HOPE you won't be encountering them.

[User] You time passes...

[Assistant]
Year 31

If you ever get back to Hessla, you swear to the gods that you're leaving and never setting foot on a ship again.

When you left a year ago, you figured it would be a couple months maybe. You didn't know how far away all these places you're raiding were going to be.

These raids are practically slaughters and you're not particularly getting any thrill out of doing them especially since there's barely been any loot to be had. Last raids you did go on we're more about scavenging the town's fruit supplies and medicine rather than valuables.

Maybe you'd get more out of these raids if you were of the rapey nature, but curse your parents for raising you to at least adhere to some sort of moral standard. Though some of them seem content on buggering each other. (And no matter how long you've been at sea, you can honestly say there's nothing that would even make you THINK about sticking it to any of this loathsome lot you're with!)

You also had problems with not just a major storm, but a few larger ships that apparently thought it would be fun to open fire on you for the shits and giggles. Doesn't help that the navigator got killed during that exchange and you got severely off course while attempting to outrun the superior ships.

Not to mention repairs on the open sea with only half the crew also take a long damn time. On the plus side, you've learned your way around a ship a lot more, though you fully intend on never using this knowledge again if you can help it.

And at least you haven't encountered any mermaids you guess.

As you lean against the ship's railing look out at the setting sun, you try to keep your own sanity by thinking of happier times with your sister or Zalmora. You hope either of them are doing a hell of a lot better than you are right now because this is without a doubt the WORST idea you ever had.

Right along the idea where you left the fucking inn because you didn't want to settle down and live like some regular jerk off. Would it really have been so terrible? It couldn't have been worse than THIS.

"You're right, it couldn't be worse than this. Come back, I forgive you." You suddenly hear a voice say that sounds exactly like Zalmora.

You look around and then hear it again.

"Come back to me my love." The voice says in more melodic tone.

Your head starts to feel odd and you begin to hear faint little song. You can't even make it out, it's just an ongoing tone seeping into your skull...

Without thinking you look at the waters below and see a couple of splashes and a glimpse of a large fishtail.

"Regina! I knew you'd come back to me! I'm coming darling!" You suddenly hear a voice shout which fortunately breaks your concentration.

You look over to your left and see Scully jump over the side of the ship. This is soon followed by the Captain coming out of his quarters.

"FISH BITCHES! WAX! WAX! WAX! DON'T LOOK AT THE WATER!" He shouts nearly falling over in the process.

Fortunately, Captain Rifiv was so paranoid about them from last encounter that he made everyone carry some with them at all time.

Scully was either wrong about mermaids not being in northern waters or you're more off course than you thought. Either way it doesn't matter because you're being assaulted by them and you're shoving wax in your ears.

The wax doesn't quite drown out the song completely, but it's helping enough that you at least don't feel like you're falling under some sort of enchantment now.

Captain Rifiv is using a telescope to look past the nearby mermaid infested waters in the hopes of finding some sort of land. Meanwhile most of the crew is busily filling their own ears with wax.

Unfortunately most doesn't mean all...

Even with wax in your ears you can still hear the nearby gunshot of an enchanted crew member shooting one of his fellows.

"WEAK MINDED FOOLS!" You can hear Rifiv's muffled shouts.

Doesn't take long before there is chaos on the ship and you're also fighting off your fellow enchanted crew mates. Well "fellow" might be too strong of a word since you didn't even like most of them.

You then hear a loud explosion coming from below, the entire boat rocks and you fall to the deck. You aren't sure what happened, but it can't be good because the smell of smoke is very prominent and while you aren't entirely sure yet, but you think the boat might be starting to sink.

As you attempt to get up, Captain Rifiv is doing his best to hobble over in your direction.

"One of those charmed fools just lit a fucking powder keg below deck! This ship is going down! Come on, help me to the emergency rowboat! I saw a patch of land to the north!" Rifiv shouts before he stumbles to the floor of the ship.

He's having a hard time getting up, and you see yet another charmed crewman walking over to finish him off.

You look over to the emergency rowboat and you realize you could probably get to it a lot quicker by yourself.

[User] You run to the lifeboat

[Assistant]
This is everyman for himself time, besides you didn't particularly like the old bastard anymore than you liked your other crewmates.

You run over to the rowboat, get in and deploy it. It drops a lot faster than you intended and you land hard, but there is no damage and all you get is a little wet from the splash back.

As you row away from the burning, sinking, and sometimes still exploding ship, you can still hear the mermaid song and it feels like it's getting through now. You can't think of anything else to do, so you start shouting nonsense at the top of your lungs.

"CABBAGES, PANTIES, IT'S NOT GOT A NOSE, AND I'LL SMASH YOUR FACE!"

This seems to work somewhat, but you start to run into trouble when you see a green hand grab the side of the boat.

And then several more on both sides. You really begin to panic when you start to have a hard time moving the oars. The mermaids are determined to stop you.

You close your eyes and draw your sword, shouting and hacking wildly.

"Get away! Get away! Back!" You shout, but you're not really having an effect. The mermaids are easily avoiding your blind attacks and with all your wild swings you don't have the best balance.

Doesn't take long before a few of the mermaids closest to your side of the boat grab you and pull. This action combined with the mermaids on the other side pushing the boat, you fall overboard into the water.

Despite now losing your sword and being in the water, you still refuse to give up, you continue to keep your eyes closed and struggle against the mermaids pulling you down. It is at this point you begin to hear their laughing in your head.

Somehow you actually manage to get your head above water and you open your eyes just long enough to see the faintest sign of land in the distance.

The scent of brine and fish fill your nose as you feel a mermaid latch on to your back as you try to swim away. You can do nothing as you feel scaly fingers start to dig out the wax you stuffed in your ears. This is followed by a lick and a nibble on those same ears.

Your arms are feeling like anchors, but you continue to swim with a fish bitch on your back. Your head is filled with a haunting chorus that you're desperately trying to drown out with nonsensical shouting.

Quite frankly you're doing better than most men would be able to in your position, but unfortunately you're only human and the mermaids are relentless.

"Join us...under the sea...everything's better with us under the sea..."

The melodic voices continue to pierce your brain and then you feel the weirdest pleasurable sensation below.

One of the mermaids has started to undo your trousers and taken the worm in her mouth as it were.

How you're even getting turned on by this in this scenario is either a testament to the oral skills of mermaids or you had some unknown twisted desires.

Whatever the reason, the mermaids are winning this one. You can't fight an underwater blowjob along with everything else.

Even you know it's over when another mermaid appears right in front of you and you lock eyes directly with her. (Right after you stare at her green scaly tits for a split second of course)

Her facial features are partially fishy in nature, but humanoid enough looking that you fall under the unnatural spell. Now instead of just smelling fish and brine, you taste it as well as she embraces you with a kiss.

With one mermaid on your back nibbling your ear, another one swallowing your cock, and the third planting a kiss on your lips, you just let go and cease swimming. The mermaids do the rest by pulling you down.

Water fills your lungs, you struggle to breathe, death soon comes and so do you as the "hooked" mermaid at least has the decency to finish you off before everything goes black.

Your life was ended by mermaids.


[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 letters to home (First assignment)

[Assistant]
Dear Mom,

Well I got my first assignment. I'm heading to the Retlad Kingdom. Unlike most of my fellow cadets I was given the choice to go there instead of the Tulan Border. Thank the gods for my excellent bow skills.

Still it's not going to be an easy assignment, but I'm probably not as worried about it as I might normally be since I finally got paid and managed to buy myself another lute! I've been practicing it again to help me keep my mind off things. I made arrangements for most of my pay to be sent to you. You should be receiving it at the end of each month, I hope it'll help.

Anyway, tomorrow is the big day, so I better get some early sleep tonight. I have no idea what to expect.

Give my love to the rest of the family.

Your son


[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 charm training

[Assistant]
The man takes you to a wardrobe that sits in the corner of the warehouse. He starts pulling out different types of clothes and shows you how and why they are different from one another. He shows you different types of materials and styles of shirts and suits and explains when and where the different types should be worn and who they will impress. He spends some time showing you how you send messages non-verbally and how to focus those messages so you are more clearly communicating with someone, even when they don't realize it.
The man looks at you and says, "We are out of time. You are either ready or you are not ready. And that is what we will determine now." He turns and walks over to a door in the rear of the room and disappears through it. You are alone in the large warehouse, wondering if you were supposed to follow the man.
You have trained the following levels of skills:
Stealth: 2
Charm: 1
Weapons: 0


[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 calm the mob down

[Assistant]
You attempt to calm the mob down; by saying this'll be the coolest stunt ever! The mob disagrees and proceeds to disagree with you in a physical way!

They smash you in the head with a few bricks and frog stomp you, then they take some of the compost (Using a shovel) and cover you with shit.

Then they proceed to destroy your car. The jokes on them though! By pounding and beating on the car they cause a lot of asbestos flakes and dust to go flying into the air which they breathe in, since there's a lot of heavy breathing going on. (It IS a tiring job after all)

They all eventually get cancer from breathing in this toxic substance and die.

Of course you don't get any enjoyment from any of this, because you're in a coma.


[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 find a better way

[Assistant]
The only adult you see is the woman reading on the park bench so you run up to her.

"Please help that girl" you say, pointing toward the group.

She looks clearly agitated as she lifts her eyes up at you and slowly turns her head toward them, but crinkles her nose and goes right back to her stupid book.

You have no choice now but to come up with something on your own.

Looking around for a club of some kind, you notice a bunch of rocks. You quickly grab up a handful and find you a nice spot behind a tree not too far from them.

"Get away from her!"

The boys look over and spot you.

"Who are you?" demands Snots.

"Just let her go!"

"Or what?" asks Tubby as he takes a step toward you.

Chortle grapples the girl as Snots trots up beside Tubby.

"Are you here to rescue her? Is she your girlfriend?" Tubby jeers.

You feel your face flush with anger. "Just leave her alone," you say, taking a step to the rear and letting your hand drop back.

"Look here, this guy's here to save his bastard girlfriend," spits Snots.

You flash red and send a rock sailing right at his little smart mouth. He manages to turn his head just in time and the rock bounces off the side of his face. He falls back in horror and starts tearing up.

Tubby lunges toward you, but you side-step and he misses you by several feet, flailing his arms to keep his balance. You ready another rock as he spins back toward you.

"Wanna be a tough guy, huh?"

He comes at you again like a raging bull—nostrils flaring and all. You chuck the rock at him. It bounces off his chest and he keeps coming without losing a step.

You dodge sideways, but his hand still clobbers your face as he continues past.

The girl manages to land one of her backward kicks and Chortle falls like a sack of potatoes, screaming in agony as his face goes purple. She turns and darts between two houses on the far side of the street.

"Get her," wheezes Chortle, "Get that little bastard!"

Snots runs to his aid and tries to pull him to his feet between sobs, but can't muster the strength. Chortle is in no condition to stand just yet anyhow.

You run.

When you feel like you are far enough away, you look back to see that Tubby has gone back to his friends. You dash between houses and start making your way back toward where the girl went through.

The alley is shrouded by trees arching overhead and you make your way to the end of it. Seeing no sign of her, you cut through to the next street. Still nothing. She's long gone.

You suddenly remember the bag tucked under the picnic table that you were supposed to be watching. If something happened to it, you'll be in big trouble.

You sprint like the devil is after you. A hedge claws up your arms and face as you dart through it, which you barely even notice.

Turning down the alley, a dark figure steps out from behind the corner of the hedge directly in your path. Your mouth goes all coppery and dry, and you skid to a stop.

You're all set to flee when you realize that it's the girl from before. She looks sheepish and a bit winded, but no worse for wear.

She hangs her head, but her eyes remain fixed on yours. As you cautiously approach her, you detect the faint hint of a smile.

"Hi," she barely more than whispers.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"Yeah. They didn't hurt me."

"You sure hurt that one."

She chuckles.

"Who were them boys?"

"Just some boys from school. They always pick on me."

"How come?"

"Just 'cause. They've always been like that."

"What's your name?" you ask, scrunching your toes and noticing how dirty they've gotten.

"Jane. What's yours?"

"Billy. We just moved here."

"Where's your house?"

"We don't have one yet."

"Oh," she says, turning her gaze to the side, then back to you. "My house is on Hill Road."

"I don't know where that is. We just got here last night. We came in on the bus."

"It's over there," she points over your shoulder, "on the edge of town. C'mon. I'll show you."

"I can't right now. I have to watch our stuff so Mom can find a job."

"Oh." After a pause, she asks "What grade are you in?"

"I'll be in Second this year."

"Me too. Maybe we can sit together."

The very suggestion makes you feel queasy and uncomfortable. "I better get back before she comes back," you say stepping past her.

"Okay. See ya later."

"See ya later."

You cut between two houses following their shared ribbon driveway. As you get to the front, you peek down the street and see that the gang is gone.

The park is empty now with no one in sight. You cross the street and see that the bag is still right where it's supposed to be.

You climb the cement picnic table and plop down on top of it with your feet on the bench. All you can do now is wait.


[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 abandon the fight

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

You didn't come here for a fight. This was supposed to be the easiest place to guard in all the realm. No wyverns or kobold were supposed to come here, and certainly not in the numbers that actually threaten your wall occupation. Your goal is to save your beloved. Liliana. You don't have time to be caught up in border battles where you might die. Your life is not your own anymore, for if you die, then Liliana will as well.

You pretend to be lighting the signal fire, but when you are out of sight of the other soldiers you find one of the many towers and make your way down it. They keep food and water storage in the towers, and if you were to have any hope of deserting and living then you would need supplies. You move quickly, and gather anything that you might need: Food, water, flint and steel, extra arrows, a shield. Everything you could possibly need. After gathering it all, you head to the very bottom of the stairwell and tower. A large iron gate-like door greets you. It is quite the durable piece, and nothing less than a battering ram would be able to break through it. Or perhaps a wyvern flying at breakneck speed... You push that foreboding thought from your head and walk through the iron doors.

A slight breeze pushes against your face. You're far enough from the battle that you can only barely hear the roar of the wyverns fighting. you take a breath and look at your next destination. The green of the forest is all that will greet your eyes for an indeterminate amount of time in the future. This was the only way to go. The penalty for desertion is death, so there was no way you were going to stay there. Your only option was to move forward in your search for Liliana.

You take a deep breath, ready yourself mentally, then enter into the Lost Realm. You don't get very far in there, however, before you run into kobold reinforcements. They number over ten, and you are no god though you do manage to take a few out before succumbing to multiple stab wounds.


[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 answer "Nothing"

[Assistant]
The old woman seems to think about your answer for a moment. "Nothing." She says to herself before a ghostly smile twists her lips. "Nothing, yes I think that sounds right. Very good child. Thank you for answering poor Old Nana's riddle. Now I can finally get some rest. You go on through the door now." And with that, the rocking chair stops rocking and the ghost of the woman and her cat fade away into nothingness.

Opening the door leads you to a staircase. As you descend these stairs you can hear all sorts of strange noises. Scuffling, squeaking, flapping of wings, hooting and howling, you expect to find a collection of animals caged at the bottom of the stairs. Instead you find a circular room with ten doors all the way around, each with a picture of a different animal engraved on the door.

The noises begin to quiet down and the ghost of a dark haired, rather scruffy looking man appears in the centre of the room with a hawk perched on his arm. "So, you made it past Nana did you? Poor old bat's been trying to solve that riddle for damn near fifty years now. Well I suppose it's my turn then. Glad to meet you kid. I'm the games keeper here abouts. Master told me we had new company and he sent me down here with a riddle for you, to help you choose which door to go through. Give it a good think before you open one, alright?

Wings as black as a moonless night.

Only ventures in the light.

Long tail, sharp teeth, legs of eight.

Find my name or meet your fate."

[User] You open the door engraved with an Owl

[Assistant]
You open the door to see nothing but darkness before you and the sounds of several different creatures fill the air once again, only now they sound louder, and angrier. "Sorry kid." The games keeper says to you as the sounds draw nearer. "Even I can't stop them now. They're just so hungry."

Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your foot and you look down to see that a rat has come in through the door and bitten your toe. You manage to kick it away but more rats appear and you stumble backwards trying to keep them away from your feet. An owl flies at you out of the darkness and it's talons scratch at you eyes. You try to shoo it away but see that your arms are covered in tiny black spiders which you frantically try to shake off. The spiders are the least of your worries though, since standing it the doorway is a great black bear which rises onto its hind legs and lets out the most terrifying roar. You are so distracted by the bear that you don't even notice the wolf that is circling you until it sinks its teeth into your throat.


[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 remain there for help.

[Assistant]
I can't say I remember how long I had sat there and remained so terribly still, so helpless and sightless and immobile. I called for my friends, but they did not reply, and it frightened me. I would scream in agony from time to time when the pain of my eyes struck a nerve. My eyelids were close to gone - I touched them beforehand in frightened curiousity just to touch bleeding flesh and soft eyeballs.

"Is anyone out there?"

I know my ears are not fooling me, they can't have!

"Hello? Hello!" I call, and the male's voice grows as he speaks. I feel a hand gripping my shoulder, and hear him speak.

"God..."


[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 letters to home (She's still alive!)

[Assistant]
Hey Mallack!

This letter is directly for you again. Glad you've been keeping these between us.

Anyway, I know it seemed silly to worry about a girl I just had a brief encounter with years ago for one night. But when I heard about the Brot Kingdom being destroyed by the Necromancer, I did wonder about Helena.

Well, I found out she's still alive! She stopped off in Fort Virtue not too long ago! She wasn't in Brot when all that shit went down. She was trading in the Azi Republic at the time.

When she arrived in Fort Virtue to trade, I recognized her and she seemed pleased to see me. She mentioned that she was pleased to see a familiar face for once and we spent a lot of time together for as long as she stayed. (And yes, we did THAT several times too.)

I wish things were different, or at least not the way they are right now. I definitely would want to pursue a more permanent relationship with her because we get along really well, but alas that's not to be. At least not at this time.

She told me she was heading to the Retlad Kingdom next; I hope she stays there because there's less fighting going on. Definitely no more Quillars there anymore. I dunno, I know it's minor and doesn't really make sense, but this little bit of info sort of put me in a better mood. I guess I'll be writing Mom a more upbeat letter as well soon.

Okay, well I hope everything's going good with you too. Keep watching out for the Kobolds and keep 'em out of that chicken coop!

Your brother


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

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
Eyes fluttering open, you find yourself there in the Nightmare Realm again. You're sprawled out on a soft, eerily warm ground. A dull, strange pulse that trembles through the ground. The ground's texture is unnerving as your fingertips run across it, closer to flesh than earth. You squint, making out thin veins spread out through the ground, pumping a black liquid through the flesh that stands in stark contrast to the brownish-red of the floor. You briefly look at yourself for any injury, but you don't see anything wrong, at least visibly. You're wearing a pair of simply cloth pajamas that hang off your pale, frail frame and some small, featureless blue slippers.

Standing, you look around at the nightmare realm surrounding you. The sky is black and lifeless, not a single shining light to break the dull veil of oblivion that hangs over your head. You're in the middle of a forest of jet black trees that spike out from the ground like pillars of obsidian, their trunks all charred and blackened by what you presume was fire. From the tree's branches hang red, glistening organs and chunks of flesh, blood dripping down from them. A length of rotting intestine, a split open stomach whose food has spilled out to the ground, a long strip of unidentifiable flesh, they all just hang their like some horrifying butcher's display.

In contrast to the dark floor there's several chunks of bleached white bone about the size of a child's head in the ground, sticking out like everyday rocks. You grab the nearest one cautiously, turning it over in your hand to reveal the bottom of it is covered with beetle-like creatures, which make a strangely human-like panting. Thin, long pink tongues extend from their mouths towards you, before you frantically shake them off the chunk of bone. Nervously, you toss the chunk of bone back to the ground.

You look around for anything useful, something to help you get out of this insane hellscape. Next to one of the trees, leaning against the gnarled black roots is a red, plastic Zippo lighter, seeming out of place in the whole world of nightmares. There's a lake of black, unreflective liquid that you stare at, its waters thick and oil-like. Sitting next to it, far enough away from you that you're not too scared, is a figure.

The figure looks like a badly deformed child, although its face is closer to that of a hairless rat, a long snout that extends past its face. You pause, noticing its eyes are a pair of black buttons, stitched straight into its sockets with red thread. Its limbs are thin and frail, and although it seems to be naked. Its skin is pale and leathery, hanging off it in patches to reveal the black flesh underneath. It holds in its hand a fishing rod, sitting there casually as if nothing was wrong. You wonder if it'll act as a friend or foe. Sitting next to it is a black oil lantern, from which the only light in sight shines out, brightening the area.

[User] You follow the pulse of the ground

[Assistant]
Dropping to your knees, you press your thumb against one of the veins going through the ground, feeling the warm pulse of blood go through. You follow the vein, the pulse growing louder and louder, stronger and stronger with every beat.

Continuing to follow it, you soon reach a thick mass of flesh, coils of muscle filled with the black, oozing blood. The thing spasms every few seconds, and you wince as you realize you're listening to the beating of a heart.

The heart lies there, spasming and beating as you wonder what to do.

[User] You attempt to kill the heart

[Assistant]
You take a deep breath, looking around before seeing a chunk of bone. You lift it up, shaking off the bugs that cling underneath, before ramming it into the heart. It bounces back, but you feel there's some leeway, so you heave it back into the air before bringing it down. The heart bursts open as you drive the chunk into it, spraying you with the black bile-like blood as it covers your arms up to your elbow as you plunge your hands inside. It spasms one final time, spraying blood out, before you toss the chunk aside.

Listening to the silent night air, you hear the faint beating of other hearts, keeping the nightmare realm alive. There must be hundreds of them. There's no way you're killing this hellhole.

[User] Back

[Assistant]
Eyes fluttering open, you find yourself there in the Nightmare Realm again. You're sprawled out on a soft, eerily warm ground. A dull, strange pulse that trembles through the ground. The ground's texture is unnerving as your fingertips run across it, closer to flesh than earth. You squint, making out thin veins spread out through the ground, pumping a black liquid through the flesh that stands in stark contrast to the brownish-red of the floor. You briefly look at yourself for any injury, but you don't see anything wrong, at least visibly. You're wearing a pair of simply cloth pajamas that hang off your pale, frail frame and some small, featureless blue slippers.

Standing, you look around at the nightmare realm surrounding you. The sky is black and lifeless, not a single shining light to break the dull veil of oblivion that hangs over your head. You're in the middle of a forest of jet black trees that spike out from the ground like pillars of obsidian, their trunks all charred and blackened by what you presume was fire. From the tree's branches hang red, glistening organs and chunks of flesh, blood dripping down from them. A length of rotting intestine, a split open stomach whose food has spilled out to the ground, a long strip of unidentifiable flesh, they all just hang their like some horrifying butcher's display.

In contrast to the dark floor there's several chunks of bleached white bone about the size of a child's head in the ground, sticking out like everyday rocks. You grab the nearest one cautiously, turning it over in your hand to reveal the bottom of it is covered with beetle-like creatures, which make a strangely human-like panting. Thin, long pink tongues extend from their mouths towards you, before you frantically shake them off the chunk of bone. Nervously, you toss the chunk of bone back to the ground.

You look around for anything useful, something to help you get out of this insane hellscape. Next to one of the trees, leaning against the gnarled black roots is a red, plastic Zippo lighter, seeming out of place in the whole world of nightmares. There's a lake of black, unreflective liquid that you stare at, its waters thick and oil-like. Sitting next to it, far enough away from you that you're not too scared, is a figure.

The figure looks like a badly deformed child, although its face is closer to that of a hairless rat, a long snout that extends past its face. You pause, noticing its eyes are a pair of black buttons, stitched straight into its sockets with red thread. Its limbs are thin and frail, and although it seems to be naked. Its skin is pale and leathery, hanging off it in patches to reveal the black flesh underneath. It holds in its hand a fishing rod, sitting there casually as if nothing was wrong. You wonder if it'll act as a friend or foe. Sitting next to it is a black oil lantern, from which the only light in sight shines out, brightening the area.

[User] You inspect the tree trunks

[Assistant]
You head over to the black tree trunks, running a hand over the ash-covered trunk. Some of the ash rubs off, and you roll it between your fingertips. You notice that there's several deep gouge marks in the tree, no doubt from some horrifying beast.

A drop of blood lands on your shoulder from the organs hanging above you, and you step back away from the tree.


[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 keep the crown

[Assistant]
Again, this crown got you into this mess; you might as well keep it at this point. You tuck the crown away in your pack hoping that it stops speaking to you.

You limp away and eventually find your way out of the park. (Or what you assume was a park anyway)

You walk down a street catching a lot of glances. Most of the inhabitants of this city are human (Though you're seeing a couple of races that you've never even seen before) so you're not standing out so much on that aspect, but the way you're dressed is definitely cause for intrigue.

Unfortunately for you, you're so intriguing that when several military looking men come running in your direction they immediately begin shouting at you in a language that you still can't understand.

You aren't really in any condition to run and there are enough of them that you don't think you could fight them all. You don't even have the advantage of your pistol any longer.

Having no other choice, you attempt to play it dumb and make gestures that you don't understand them. It isn't really a plan, so much as it's the lack of one since you really can't understand them. Though eventually when they get exasperated enough, you understand them all too well.

One of the soldiers grabs you while another begins grabbing your belongings such as your weapons and your pack. They toss everything out, but when they see the crown, all of their eyes narrow and you know enough that you're in even deeper shit.

You can't make out everything they say in between the beating, but you think you understood some of the words as older forms of various swears. You also heard "emperor" which is very bad since as far as you can figure, the crown belongs to the emperor of Galpatis Empire.

While you expect to be killed right there in the streets, the soldiers eventually stop beating you and take you away in chains. Apparently they uphold a very civilized legal system here and you are to be properly judged rather than just executed immediately.

You spend months in a dungeon waiting for judgment. During those first few weeks you try to find a way to escape. When you never find an opening of any sort, you just give up. After all what would you escape to? You're nowhere near home or anything else that you know. You are a man out of time.

Resigned to your situation, you spend the remainder of your time learning some of the language to crudely communicate with the guards or other prisoners. You learn manage to learn a few things that your sister would find very interesting seeing as she did read a few things about Galpatis. Your chances of ever telling her are nil of course. Still, you hope she's doing a lot better than you currently are.

Eventually your day arrives and predictably your case is pretty cut and dry. You're found guilty of stealing one of the emperor's royal crowns (You guess he has several) and the sentence is death. You have to wonder why it took so damn long to sentence you seeing as they found it on you. You can only guess this place has a really backed up legal system on top of it being "civilized."

While it doesn't help you out, it makes you wonder if this was "meant to happen." Like were you supposed to go back in time and steal this crown? Did this originally happen?

But then you didn't really steal it at all or at least you didn't steal it in this time period. The guards just found it on you, but they clearly were LOOKING for a thief. So what happened to the original one?

You eventually stop worrying about it; it's not going to matter anyway.

The waiting period for the execution is happily a lot swifter and by the time you walk to the chopping block; you're ready to accept your fate.