[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 press forward

[Assistant]
Semra's words aren't entirely lost on you. However, she either has overlooked one thing or again, managed to lie so convincingly that she's allowed her mind to believe it to be the truth.

"Nice idea Semra, very nice idea. I think perhaps even you believe it. There's just one problem with it. I lose most of my necromantic powers as soon as I leave Mortos. The whole reason for Casimir's return here was because the necromantic energy weakened the longer he stayed away from Mortos. He was a resident here and master necromancer and he only used his own powers sparingly in order to keep himself alive for so long." You say.

Semra's expression changes to one of disappointed as you continue to speak.

"I on the other hand have only just begun to dabble in the necromantic arts and I'm no native to this land. Currently the necromantic energy is sustaining me, but I know I'm going to start aging again perhaps even more rapidly now that I've abused its power to keep myself alive. Even if I DO manage to sustain myself through necromancy, it's a habit of diminishing returns. Nicodemus told me that and Casimir certainly knew it. That's why he wanted that book. It was the answer to everything."

Realizing how this is going to end, Semra prepares to defend herself.

"If I turn back now, I'll live maybe a few decades longer perhaps? Maybe even a hundred after draining a few thousand people maybe? And while I have no qualms about such a thing, it's not really going to solve my problem now is it? If anything it might cause rebellions and eventually I'll still weaken and die to the ravages of time. So why turn back now? What have I got to lose?"

You begin to cast a spell and Semra does likewise. Your undead Eternals move forward towards her.

"I've already got one foot in the grave."

You unleash a blast of frost towards Semra, who blocks with a magical barrier. Your undead eternals are undeterred by the frost and move within range to attack. She has to temporary drop the barrier in order to defend herself effectively as they attempt to surround her.

Somehow despite suffering a semi-hit from your frost spell, she dodges and weaves enough to avoid your Eternal's attacks. She cuts down one of your Eternals and tries to lob a piece of heavy stone at you via telekinesis, but to her surprise you manage to stop it in mid air where upon it falls uselessly to the ground.

"There are so many things I've learned since our minds have grown closer…" you say and then produce a poisonous cloud at her. It catches her just enough to make her gag and cough before jumping and climbing to the top of the broken wall behind her.

"Open that trapdoor!" you command one of your Eternals to do while you try to blast Semra with fireballs as she jumps from crumbling piece of block to crumbling piece of block.

She returns fire with a lightning bolt, but you quickly put up a barrier and focus your energy to that the barrier actually repells the bolt back. It misses her, but in her effort to dodge, she loses her balance and falls backwards off the piece of wall she was standing on. She's most likely still alive, but you're not wasting any more time with her. Seeing that the gas cloud has disapated, you rush down into the now open trapdoor and order your Eternals to follow. When you get to the bottom, you tell them to shut it and to wait and kill anything that tries to enter.

You run down the long dark corridor, ignoring the several alcoves to your left and right. You half expect something to attack you like a ghoul, but nothing does and eventually you reach the large room that Nicodemus told you about.

The room is dimly lit and furnished in a similar style that Casimir had his room furnished. You even see smaller versions of the two large skeleton warrior statues that still exist outside his old chambers. It's actually fairly nice looking compared to well…almost anything in Mortos.

To your left you see Nicodemus sitting in a very luxurious looking chair. The man looks older, though he was old looking when you first met him, but this "old" definitely looks like tired accompanies the status. In fact he almost looks like he's asleep, he stirs awake when you walk acouple more steps in the room.

"Oh, it's you. Apologies. I was just resting my eyes. Hrm. Took you long enough to get here, I imagine Semra tried to stop you. I told her not to bother and just let the inevitable happen. I mean she's a svelk, she's lived and enjoyed more lifetimes than most beings have anyway. Sometimes you just have to know when to let go." Nicodemus says.
"From what she told me, that's what you've decided to do." You reply.
"Yes, I imagine I have. It surprised me as well having kept such a close protection of this book for centuries. Granted most of those were from other necromancers similar to Casimir. You're the first outsider to attempt it. You're also the only one who is about to succeed as well. I guess congratulations is in order."
"And I'm expected to believe you just changed your mind? That you're just going to let me take the book? You just had a small army try to stop me."
"Eh, not really my idea. I mean I wasn't opposed to it, but my fellow necromancers thought that they'd make the effort to stop you. They all were a little younger than me, so I can't blame their dedication to protecting the book. As for me, I've gotten to the point where I'm tired and no longer care. I'd lecture you again, but I did that the first time you visited and given your determination, there is nothing I can say now that would change your mind. I could kill you with little effort, but I'm done with trying to stop you and your type from taking it. I think by the time you started rolling in those large steel machines of yours that was the point where I began to think what's the use? This man isn't going to stop short of his own personal death and even then someone like him will try again eventually. If this is the type of world where nobody can ever learn the simplest of lessons then maybe its better off dead."

Nicodemus shifts a bit in his chair and relaxes a bit more. Nearby you see the infamous book on a table near him. You approach cautiously forward.

"Yes, there it is. Take it. Kill me first if it makes you feel any safer, I won't put up any resistance."

You hesistate at Nicodemus' willingness to let you have the book. It has to be a trick.

"Well what are you waiting for Eternal? Why do you hesitate? Kill me, take the book and leave! That's the goal right? Well do it!" Nicodemus demands with a raised voice.

Seeing not much else to do, you oblige him. You blast Nicodemus with a lightning bolt to his head exploding it like a ripe melon. His headless body remains slumped in its seat motionless.

You briskly walk over to the table and grab the book. You half expect something horrible to befall you, but nothing happens. You glance through the book and it appears to be the same one that Casimir had. You definitely feel a faint surge of power just by handling it.

With nothing else to do, you leave this room and head back the way you came. You find that your Eternals still waiting for you, you're somewhat surprised that Semra didn't make another attempt to stop you.

Though that thought soon goes away when one of your Eternals pops up from the trapdoor and from the bottom of the ladder you see him blasted to pieces by a magic bolt.

Shielding yourself from the falling pieces of your undead soldier you rapidly ascend the ladder where you cast a barrier to block Semra's attempts at sniping you. Blocking her magic, you scramble to a better location so you can allow the rest of you Eternals to climb up to help you.

"You were right Semra, Nicodemus didn't try to stop me. This seems like destiny to me. Like I was meant to have this book! Why do you hate destiny?" you shout in a taunting fashion.

Semra makes no response back; she just continues to try to kill you. Looks like she's gotten over her whole "maternal" feeling towards you. You return the favor and the pair of you must combat each other for several minutes running and dodging and flinging spells at one another.

Honestly you'd try to end your feud with her right then and there, but during the battle you notice another army approaching in the distance. Not one of your own either, it's another undead horde and you can't fight Semra AND an entire undead army practically all by yourself.

So you decide that escape is the order of the day and Semra's death will have to be another. After all you have your prize, better you should leave with it now.

You collapse a small tower within the fortress with a well placed lightning bolt. Semra happens to be standing nearby it fortunately causing her to focus on saving her own life. In the meantime you order your Eternals to stay behind and find her to finish her off. You know that they will fail, but it will give you time to make a hasty retreat from the advancing undead horde.

It is a long journey back to "safe" territory. You try to keep a low profile most of the way, though no matter how well you try to avoid attention, inevitably a pack of hungry gibbering ghouls always seems to find you. Fortunately they're in manageable numbers and you manage to make it back without major problems.

When you arrive at "Home camp" you're immediately seen to by the Eternal detachment that constantly guard the portals back home. They make a fuss, but you assure them that you're fine and that you just need to get back home right now.

Without too many more words, you enter the portal back home and you're suddenly back in Evigrus where the aura is much more lively and a lot less oppressive.

And with you now is the book that Casimir wanted so badly and several others tried to prevent you from having. The same book that you have clutched under your arm. The key to immortality.

You begin to glance through it and while you don't understand all of it, you feel the power contained within. It's almost as if the book wants you to master it.

A challenge you will gladly undertake.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
Year 80

"So you're really going to do it?" Cassandra asks while lying in bed next to you.
"That was sort of the point of going to Mortos in the first place." You answer.
"True I suppose. I really hated it there. I mean killing and capturing svelk was about the only thing that was remotely enjoyable. I was pretty glad you eventually sent all the Eyes back home."

You get up out of bed to get your day started.

"Ah, shit." You say feeling an ache in your back.
"Are you alright? I thought you…um…replenished yourself recently."
"If by replenished you mean drained the lives of twenty of my citizens last month then yes I did, but as I've told you before, it doesn't last long and it wears out quicker as the years have gone on. Not to mention humans don't exactly have the most sustaining life forces to begin with so it takes more of them just to turn back the clock a few decades."

As you look in the mirror at yourself trying to determine if you need to "recharge" today, Cassandra doesn't pursue that line of questioning anymore. She knows that elves being long-lived creatures would probably require less effort on your part and sustain you longer. In fact that's probably why she started to show "attraction" towards you a few years ago. She'd never admit it, but she fears that you'll suddenly start rounding up elves and draining them instead.

While it definitely had occurred to you to do so, you tended to limit it to just a few since they still don't have the largest of populations and you had no idea how long you'd have to "ration out" the lives of your citizens before you could unlock all the secrets of the book. Cassandra probably believes she's "swaying" you through sex though.

Gnomes probably REALLY feared being rounded up, but fortunately for them you still respect their engineering skills and you don't have a gnome fetish like Casimir did. Besides, ever since your human engineer losses in Mortos and Elam dying last year (Another rarity via natural causes), you need all the skilled engineers you can get.

As for your "relationship" with Cassandra you have no love for her, a mild fondness, a respect for her abilities and her usefulness, but nothing more. You're fairly certain Cassandra has no true love for you either. Respect and loyalty sure, a desire to place herself in a higher and "safer" position, most definitely, but she does not love you.

Part of you has wondered if you reciprocated her advances in the first place was because she was an elf. Besides the natural attractiveness common to their race, she very faintly reminds you of Semra. Not in personality or even looks, but she's an elf and it's close enough.

"I am seriously fucked up." You mumble to yourself as you think about that again.
"What did you say?" Cassandra asks.
"Nothing, just thinking about something. You better get dressed, I'm going to need you and the Eyes on full alert for this thing." You say which stirs Cassandra to get up and follow your lead in getting dressed.

"Emperor, the…subjects are currently all being held at the ritual pyramid in the Usksha Desert, all ten thousand of them are still alive and restrained. I know I've told you this before, but Empire citizens' have not been calm about this. Most don't even know exactly what you're planning, but they're already coming up with stories and most of which are not too far off from the truth. The Eyes have been working overtime in keeping the peace, but I fear that a rebellion of some sort will be inevitable. Most likely in Rask and Nakol province, perhaps even in the Tral province."
"The citizens' would like it even less if I continued to just drain random people at a greater rate eventually exceeding ten thousand. This ritual is going to prevent having to do that anymore. After it's done, we can deal with the civil unrest and in time Dokkrus as well."

Cassandra smiles a bit when she hears that, you know she's probably been eager to go kill more svelk again.

"I always meant to ask, but why is this to be performed in Usksha?" Cassandra says.
"No major settlements nearby and it isn't like the usksha nomads are a problem anymore. Haven't even had a sandworm pop up in decades. I thought about the plains of Tor, since there was nice flat land there to build the pyramid, but the Usksha desert works just as well. Besides, this is only going to be necessary once. No need to have the pyramid any more afterwards and it'll be cheaper to just let the sands consume everything rather than having to tear it down and having crews to dispose of all the bodies."
"Couldn't you just animate them to walk into the ocean or something?"
"Hah, I'm sure a dead march to the ocean is just what the already agitated citizens' would want to see." You chuckle.

"No, this is a better way. To be honest raising the dead takes a great deal of willpower and I find it to be a waste of the time and energy. I mean I did it to a limited degree in Mortos with the fallen Eternals because it bolstered the ranks and using the dead negated some of the advantages the necromancers had. Personally though I'd rather just cast a rain of fire down or chain lightning to directly harm my enemies. I don't need unreliable rotting corpses to do my work." You say.

Cassandra nods at your answer and the pair of you are off to the Usksha Desert.

Even before your carriage reaches the desert the black pyramid is visible from the Nalin border. The closer you get the more it looms ominously.

There are grim deeds going to be performed this day and night and well…until the ritual is complete.

The necromancers of Mortos didn't need as many sacrifices when they attempted this ritual since there were a lot more of them to perform it and support each other's magical energy. They were also more skilled. You are just one man that has tried to shove as much necromantic knowledge into your head in just a few years. You sometimes wonder if this is indeed a fool's errand.

But you've gone over the rites, you've gone over the symbols, the steps, made allowances for your unique situation, and of course had a big ass pyramid built just to accomplish all this. You don't think you could be any more ready.

When you arrive at the ritual pyramid, several Eternals stand ready for your commands. There are so few of them left now and they're all fourth gens. It wasn't but a decade ago that together with the third gens, Eternals were nearly two thousand strong. When this is all over, you really need to get that project back on track again. Too bad Elam isn't still around to carry out some of his theories, but maybe he left some notes in that now abandoned workshop of his.

"The sacrifices are inside the pyramid, my Emperor. All we await is you to take your place and begin." An Eternal says when you exit the carriage.
"Very good, we will begin soon." You reply as you shield your eyes to look up at the pyramid which does look pretty impressive this close up."

Cassandra begins to leave the carriage, but you stop her from doing so.

"Cassandra, why don't you head back. I don't think you're going to want to be here for this. Not because I don't think you can't handle it, but because it's going to take awhile and I'd rather have you keeping a check on the potential civil unrest situation you've been concerned about. I mean other than my Eternals here, you're about the only person I can truly trust and rely on anymore."
"Very well, and thank you my Emperor." Cassandra says and kisses you before getting back inside the carriage.

With Cassandra on her way back, you begin to make the long climb up the pyramid feeling the aches the entire time. You'll be glad to put an end to that soon. When you finally get to the top, you take a short breather and accept the water that a nearby Eternal hands you.

"Shit, that sun is a killer. Maybe I should've had this built on the Tor plains after all. (Whew) All right then let's get on with this. Bring out the first sacrifice." You say and a couple of your Eternals nod and go through the entryway to carry out your orders.

While you wait you place the ritual book on a nearby stone podium and examine the sacrificial altar and the symbols you had etched into it. The altar itself was designed to be sturdy, but also has a slight elegance to it. The craftsman really put some artistic touches to it. You aren't normally one to admire something like that, but in this case you do.

As the screams of your first sacrifice get closer you draw out your mithril dagger. Ah this dagger has certainly been with you a long time. Saved your life more than a few times too.

Still, you only keep it for one reason. As a reminder to end Semra's life with it one day. (Yet another thing on the to do list after achieving immortality)

Your Eternals bring out your first sacrifice. A young elven girl. She's terrified, crying and begging for her life.

"Well, it's a good thing I sent Cassandra home. Pretty sure she wouldn't have wanted to see this. How many elves are there in there anyway?" you ask one of the Eternals ignoring the girl's screams.
"Apologies, but I'm not exactly sure my Emperor. I know we brought in a lot, but we're not sure how many the Eyes brought in."
"They most likely didn't bring in any. Probably primarily stuck to humans. So…who do we have in there anyway?"
"Mostly humans as you might expect. They're from all over the Empire. Some elves, some kobolds, some orcs, some usksha, I know we even dragged a few ogres down here. All of them are of varying ages, colors, occupations and gender. You said the more variety from walks of life the better."
"That's true. For some reason this will work better with more variety of life. Not exactly sure why, but I'm following the instructions. Just out curiosity, any gnomes?"
"We did get a few. Tried to limit them to criminals though."
"As long as we got a few, okay throw her on the altar and let's get started." You say.

As the girl continues to scream for her life, your Eternals place her on the altar.

"Did you want us to gag these people in the future?" one of your Eternals asks.
"No, apparently the terror and fear they outwardly display helps this ritual too, again don't ask me why, I'm just following what was in this book…shhhh…I'll make this quick." You say and then chant as you bring the dagger down.

When the deed is done and the girl's life has indeed been exstinguished, her body is thrown down the steps on the left side of the pyramid. That pile is going to get very big before this over.

Time passes from day and night as one by one people are dragged for you to kill. You have to take breaks every so often and after a few days of this you even resort to draining the life of some of your Eternals just to keep your strength up.

You know its working though, you can feel it. By the time you've passed the five thousand mark the daytime sky no has a sun beating down on you and a constant overcast hangs in the air. A sandstorm whips up and at one point it even begins to rain, which it practically never does in this desert.

You preserve through the sand and the rain as you did with the sun. The closer you get, the more you can feel your success. Eventually you don't even begin feeling tired after killing a few hundred people, you're starting to feel energized by it. Eventually you stop taking breaks and start dragging victims out yourself since your Eternals are certainly tired.

By the time you hit over nine thousand your surrounding area is in a permanent state of unnatural darkness. A blackness has covered a wide area of the desert and you're not even seeing the stars at this point, its just black like a void.

And then finally the last victim is brought out. A miserable looking malnourished kobold who looks like he's on his last legs anyway. He's so weak that one of your Eternals picks him up by one hand and places him on the altar.

You speak the last parts of the spell and bring down the knife ending the kobold's life instantly and that's when it happens.

You feel a surge of energy like you've never felt before. It's like when you drain the life of someone, but this is different, like a feeling of completeness. You believe its working. You don't have a mirror handy, but your hands are certainly deprived of wrinkles now and you don't have any aches or pains from age anymore.

"I feel it! It's working! It's…" you shout and then suddenly you fall to the ground and a large rumbling sound from above is heard almost to the point to it being deafening.

You are helped up by your Eternals, who begin to ask you what to do next. You look up and see several ghostly forms screaming out of the black void above. They don't attack, they just seem to hang there and float around, but that doesn't mean they won't soon.

"Emperor! Watch out!" an Eternal shouts and hacks down the kobold you just killed.

Just as Nicodemus told you what the necromancers did, just as Semra warned you, you've opened up a gate to the Realm of the Dead.

[User] You run over to the ritual book

[Assistant]
"I can close it! I need to get over to the book!" you shout and quickly run over to it and flick through the pages.

You find the page and begin to speak the words only for several of those ghostly forms to suddenly swoop down and take it. Before your eyes they rip it to pieces laughing the entire time. Pieces of the book either fly off never to be seen again or fall before you completely useless.

"NO!" you shout helplessly and try to blast them with magic bolts. You hit some of them causing those to dissipate, but the damage is done.

"The end will come soon…this world has been marked on the list for a long time…you have welcomed death back to it because of your hubrissssssss…." One of the ghosts mocks.

The ghosts continue to taunt you as you desperately try to pick up some of the pieces that actually landed near you in the meantime your Eternals are urging that you all need to get away from the pyramid as more of these ghostly forms are starting to appear and one of them has noticed that the large pile of bodies on the left side of the pyramid is starting to animate.

"Emperor! We must go!"
"NO! I won't be beaten! Not when I have achieved my goal, I…Aaaagh!" you start to say when all of a sudden you begin to feel very weak. It's not just you either; it's your Eternals too. The feeling is similar to the draining effect by undead creatures or the negative zones of Mortos. You might not be aging, but you definitely don't feel well, in fact you feel like you're going to die and given how close to death you've been on several occasions, you're very familiar with what that feels like. In fact, you're reminded of the time when Cyrus nearly killed you. Feels like that.

Realizing that standing to fight isn't going to work, you listen to your Eternals and begin down the pyramid steps to your right. Though you make sure to be careful since you're dizzy and feel like you're going to tumble at any time.

When you get to the bottom, you see more spirits and the like pour out of the black void above the pyramid and the pile of bodies that were one dead have now begun to shuffle around their original area to the other side where you are currently at. You attempt to control the slowly advancing horde in perhaps an effort to turn some against each other, but your spell has absolutely no effect and it's like some greater force is controlling them. It's Mortos all over again.

After dispatching the closest ones by the more traditional sword, gunYou and your remaining Eternals make haste through the desert towards the Nalin border. The more distance you put between you and the pyramid makes you feel a little better, but you're also concerned. You're supposed to be immortal now, and while you know that doesn't mean you can't feel pain, you wonder if the spell actually even worked at all because you had the very real feeling that you were going to die back there. You may have very well doomed the word for nothing.

You try not to not to think about it for now, you'll have plenty of time to dwell on it when you get back to civilization.

When you do reach the closest village in Nalin, the peasants there are so far unaware of the impending danger, but many of them have begun feeling scared since even from this distance they can see the large blackness that has unnaturally gathered above the pyramid in the distance. You make a short announcement in the middle of the village.

"People of this village, listen to your Emperor. There is a darkness coming in this direction and it will consume you and everything within if you stay here. I'd advise you all to move on to one of the larger cities for safety if you can. Do not give into fear and stay strong and you will survive this. The Empire WILL survive this."

Having little else to say, you move on leaving the villagers to heed your advice. You proceed to do this with every settlement you move through on your way back to the capital and urge the bigger ones to start sending out messengers to other settlements to warn people as well.

When you get to the capital, you're immediately giving orders to make this situation news throughout the Empire. If there was civil unrest before there probably will be more of it, but keeping people in the dark until the dead are beating down their door is likely to result in unreadiness and lead to more causalities which will in turn…result in more undead.

Steps are taken to completely eradicate the dangers of the dead rising up when you have the graveyards ordered to be dug up in all major cities and the bodies burned immediately (The kobolds are the main ones that take care of this task)

It is a grim day indeed though when you have the cemetery of Empire heroes cleansed. The final resting place of some of your closest former companions is broken open and their bodies destroyed. In those cases you do the job yourself, because well they deserve that much.

But better it should be this way than for them to rise up as some undead monster that will no longer the person you knew any more.

Despite these steps, the Empire is a large place and not every small village or hamlet can be accounted for and that's not even counting Nyttrus which only gets the news weeks later when the first reports of the dead rising up from their graves starts.

Worse is the fact that another large void similar to the one in the Usksha Desert has opened up near New Dessel. When it did, the effect was sudden and instant. Several airships were destroyed in the area. This so far hasn't happened anywhere else (yet) but you wonder if its due to the portals to Mortos being located there. Perhaps some sort of thinner barrier between the dead and living there or something.

Whatever the reason New Dessel itself has gone silent. It can be assumed everyone there has decided to lock themselves up in the mountain, but all attempts to send people to investigate have failed. Either the hostile spirits screaming out of the void are too overwhelming or the investigators don't come back at all. The ones have managed to come back also report of a life draining effect they feel as soon as they enter the area. Their description is similar to what you felt back at the pyramid.

It's a major loss considering the importance of New Dessel. You were considering making a trip to Mortos to ask the necromancers for help since only they might know how to stop this, but with the portals either destroyed or inaccessible now that's no longer an option. (And given your last visit it's probably unlikely they would've helped anyway)

While you initially believed that more civil unrest would follow this catastrophe, you've surprisingly found that hasn't been the case, if anything this event has caused people to band together. While you don't doubt that a lot blame you for this there remains a greater fear of this undead plague and a slight hope that you MIGHT be the only one to save from it. In short, they don't really have many other options, because going it alone without the help of the Empire would surely be suicide.

With few options of your own, you rally a general state of emergency and the war against the dead begins in full swing. You can't be everywhere at once, but you try your best and fend off major attacks personally when you can.

Year 90

You stare at the portrait of your beloved Alison. As much as you've always missed her, a part of you is glad that she perhaps isn't still around to see what you've done.

Would she have still stood by your side? Would she have tried to stop you? Would you have even bothered with any of this had she still been alive?

Like many questions that rely on "what if" the answers are irrelevant because what they are is not reality.

You tear yourself away from Alison's portrait for a moment to glance into the mirror to your left.

A young face stares back at you. An Eternal in his prime ready to conquer the world. The problem is you're no longer in any position to do so, for something else is doing it better than you ever could.

You think about all you've lost within the short time you've achieved "immortality."

You lost contact with Nyttrus years ago, and you don't know what's going on there now. Who knows if anything still lives on that jungle continent.

Several more voids in the sky began appearing, releasing more undead into your realm and draining the life energy of the living. Entire provinces at this point have now been depopulated leaving only the dead behind, some provinces like Nakol have been cut off from you. Rask and Delerg are the only places left of the Empire and you imagine even that won't be true for very long. Even now a void hangs over part of Quala and everyday it grows bigger. It's only a matter of time before the entire world is completely enveloped by death.

All your Eternals are dead, along with most your Eyes and military. Cassandra herself was killed last year in the last desperate struggle to hang on to the Arat province, but it was a futile task when the enemy is literally without end.

As for you, you've never given up the fight even though you know you're going to lose. It's inevitable, but you can't just lie down and die. You have to fight, you have to survive…but you're also so tired. And it's not just from the effects of death slowly creeping up on you. There's a part of you that just wants to put away your instincts and training for a moment and do what Nicodemus did. Let nature take its inevitable course.

Your introspection is cut short when one of your advisors knocks on your door rapidly.

"EMPEROR! EMPEROR! THE UNDEAD ARE HERE! THEY'RE AT THE GATES! THEY'RE ACK!" a voice says being suddenly cut short and several grinning specters come through the closed door.

"Hm, looks like they're already past the gates." You say and then unleash magic bolts at the specters sending them back to wherever they came from.

This is somewhat unexpected. While it is true there is a large amount of undead currently in Quala, there wasn't any sign of an army anywhere near the capital yet, let alone the palace. You heard no signs of battle outside or even any yelling that would denote an alarm or call to arms. And you certainly would've been alerted long before an army was at the gates.

In fact other than this interruption, its dead quiet.

And then a feeling of oppressive dread swarms over you followed by that draining experience. This isn't good.

You open your chamber door and see a desiccated husk in front of it. It's not animating so that's the good thing. The bad thing is when you start exploring the rest of the palace; you're finding everyone like that. Several of those specters float about the palace, which you dispatch as quick as you can, but you're still feeling weaker by the second.

You don't know what is causing this sudden drain, but it's not the specters and the void isn't near enough yet. It's something else.

And by the time you drag yourself outside your palace you see it with your own eyes.

You see a black-cloaked figure standing in your courtyard with several bodies lying all over the place. The trees and the other plant life are completely dead as well. This thing is giving off a negative energy that is sapping you at an alarming rate. You struggle to keep standing.

When it glides over to you, you try to cast a spell, but it fails. You draw your sword only to end up using it as a crutch to prop yourself up on.

This is it. This is death itself and you're now right in front of it.

"Do your worst." you say trying to prepare yourself for it to attack.

To your surprise, you get a response.

"Oh trust me, you wouldn't like that. My worst makes your worst look like a kindness." The being says in a slightly deep voice.

You have no answer, but once again to your surprise the being speaks again.

"But this is no time for threats or boasts, I have come to talk mortal."
"Talk? Are you…fucking with me?" you ask.
"Not at all, however I feel it would be in your best interest to listen. It would seem you have a slight difficulty in doing that at times, but then again it's never too late to change. Even in your final hour."
"I guess…I don't have much of a choice…" you wheeze.
"Good. I understand your current condition, so I'll try to be brief. Don't worry though I'll keep you alive until we're finished."

[User] You last choice

[Assistant]
"Before we begin, if you have any major questions, now is the time." The being says.

You have to admit, this situation is so unique that you can't help but be curious so you do decide to ask questions. (As well and somehow holding out the futile hope that you might find an advantage)

"Are you a god?" you ask.
"I suppose I am, but in the scheme of things I am more of a collector and caretaker. Gods typically get to do fun irresponsible things like torment mortals and encouraging holy wars. Strange though, this world wasn't really high on any deity influences, the only record I can find of major divine influence here is a powerful yet non-divine being masquerading as a so called god of shadows and going by the name Dendrin and that thing left this world when you eradicated the shadows long ago." It answers.
"Isn't killing the world considered tormenting mortals?" you ask.
"To you and most others I suppose it would be, but this is really more of a necessary service. A reminder that death can't be cheated. In reality, the divine don't really want immortal types running about since it tends to threaten the status quo. If someone achieves immortality on a world then potentially someone else can do it too. Before you know it, you've got a whole new set of beings achieving godhood and believe me; we've got more than enough of them now. Too many really."
"How the hell is that fair? I mean as you said these gods haven't even been paying attention to this world and yet now they do?"
"Well as I said, you're a potential threat. And of course you're right. It isn't fair, but there are strict laws on this matter. Certain conditions have to apply, has to be an opening, and a bunch of boring diety debating. I didn't make them up either, they were long in place before I got this job so don't blame me. Really though your world was marked a long time ago when the Mortos necromancers attempted the same thing several centuries ago. I was so busy though with other things at the time that wasn't paying attention to just how close they were at closing the gate back up. Needless to say nobody was pleased about it and I got bitched at, but considering there wasn't any danger of someone becoming truly immortal anymore on your world I just had it marked and kept a closer eye on it."

You helplessly listen to the death god's words as the life continues to ebb from your body.

"Knew it wouldn't be long before someone here tried it again and then I'd get this world. Figured it would be one of those Mortos necromancers, but I have to admit I didn't see someone like you doing the deed. Then again given your background maybe I shouldn't be too surprised. For a mortal you're somewhat interesting and I don't say that lightly."
"Thanks…I guess. Is that why you wanted to speak to me?" you ask starting to feel very frail and tired.

"For the most part yes, but more than that. You see despite my assigned duty, I genuinely respect mortals who have a desire to endure at all costs. I always have had an admiration for those that have a strong survival instinct and you Eternal, definitely have one of the strongest. So…I am going to make a few offers to you. Unique offers that I have never given any living being before. And trust me, I've been through this process quite a few times."

You struggle to keep standing and use your sword as a crutch to prop yourself up.

"Wha…what…are…my choices…" you weakly ask.
"Well, your first choice is obvious. You pathetically continue to oppose me. You'll inevitably lose of course. I highly recommend that you do not take this option. While I may respect a strong survival instinct, I do not respect foolishness and if you continue to fight me, that's what you'll be, a complete and utter fool. I do not think you are, but then again you just might prove me wrong. Besides dying in a fairly inglorious way your assigned afterlife will not be a pleasant one."
"I…I…suppose I haven't really been a good guy." You say.

"That's a severe understatement. In fact you alone have contributed to the deaths of so many either directly or indirectly on this world that I almost wondered if I even needed to bother showing up. But honestly your brutal politics and such aside, that isn't really what got you into trouble. Indeed there are many deities that admire and reward such behavior. Your complete and total obliteration of gnome souls however was severely frowned upon by certain deities. Those gnomes were supposed to go to a happy friendly afterlife, not get completely annihilated. Personally I don't really give a shit since I know at the time you were just following your own orders, but I like to keep the rest of the deities off my back so if you continue to piss me off by opposing me, well I'll be throwing you into that very dark painful place of which there is no hope, myself."

The death god pauses before announcing your next choice.

"Your second choice is a very simple one, but probably not as obvious to the likes of you. Your second choice is to simply die. Lay your burdens down and rest. I realize that something like this would be hard for a warrior such as yourself, but I can assure you that if you do, I will guarantee you a place with your long lost love Alison."

You feel a slight surge of energy within you when you hear that name.

"Al…Alison?" you utter.
"Yes, Alison. Granted, you probably don't belong where she currently is, but fortunately for you I can pull a few strings to get you there. You and her will re-united at last. You will get to exist for the rest of eternity with her in perfect happiness."

The chance to be reunited with Alison does sound like a good deal, but you can't help but wonder if it's a lie or maybe there's a catch just to lay down and die without struggle. Is this a trick? And if it is a trick, does that mean the death god believes you're more powerful than he's letting on and you could potentially defeat it?

In any case you still haven't heard your third choice, which the death god begins speaking on.

"But perhaps your long lost love isn't the true love that died. Perhaps your true love has always been with you in your heart. Perhaps you could potentially wish for that love affair to continue forever."
"I…certainly hope you…aren't talking about…a certain svelk…" you remark.

Surprisingly this causes a dark chortle from the death god.

"Oh no…not that one, Eternal. I am referring to a mistress of a more abstract nature. Your love of battle, war and bloodshed in general. That has always been a constant for you. As I have already mentioned your actions alone have either directly or indirectly caused multitudes of souls pour into my realm. I can also admire and respect a mortal that dedicated to death whether they realize it or not. Such a being could be of great use to me."
"Use?"
"Yes. As you may have somewhat gathered from our pleasant chat here I am an incredibly busy deity. Mortals die all the time and I have a duty to collect souls, assign them and even completely obliterate a few sometimes. This is in addition to the periods where I have a whole world to purge and when the appointed time comes, I have to personally oversee its harvest. It breaks up the monotony to be sure, but it also takes time especially when I've got stubborn little mortals like yourself opposing me to the bitter end. Also people on other worlds don't stop dying just because I'm purging another one. Souls stack up and then I get complaints from other deities saying they're missing this and that soul. The complaints don't really matter of course in the grand scheme of things, but it's not something I need to hear when I'm already doing the thankless job that nobody else wants."

You never realized being a deity was so bureaucratic. You still don't quite grasp how this is your problem though. Your only problem right now is struggling to live.

"Tell me Eternal, how would you like to be truly eternal?"
"What…do you mean?"
"You have a gift. A gift that I wouldn't mind putting to good use and this is your third choice. Beg me to make you my avatar on these world purging assignments."
"What?!"
"I said beg me to make you my herald of death. Instead of me having to slog through a marked world, I'd send you in my place. Naturally I'd give you a little of my power to help you along, but I trust command over literally legions of the dead is more than enough for you to get the job done. Just think, you'd get to enjoy what you truly love over and over again. Battle, war, death, and everything else that goes along with it. Best of all, you never have to worry about silly things like troop morale or morality in general, because the goal will always be the same and you will never run out of willing soldiers."

Now this offer sounds really too good to be true. You can't even believe that the death god is practically offering you a place by his side.

"So, wait…you're saying I can join…"
"No. I didn't say join…I said beg. There's a difference." The death god interrupts.
"I… don't understand." You answer.
"It's a test. A simple one really, but a test nevertheless. You are a proud being. Even when you served your Emperor with utter devotion, you were still a proud being. Again I can respect your pride. However, I can't have you believing that you're equal to me, because you aren't. Not by a long shot. I also can't have you thinking that somehow you're going to try to turn this opportunity into a way to destroy me and take over, because you can't. If this association is going to happen, I need you to humble yourself before me. Only then can I fully trust you because an oath will have been made. Such things are impossible to break when the gods are watching."
"But…if I don't stand a chance anyway then why do I need to…humble myself?"
"Let's just say it's a formality and the principle of it. Plus I'm suspicious by nature especially with a resourceful one such as yourself. Still, it is entirely up to you. I won't force you to do something you may find repulsive to your nature. But I don't think pride is in your nature. I believe war and battle is. And I believe the desire for those is a lot stronger than any pride you may have. Again though, you may prove me wrong."

And there you have it, you've been given your three choices, such as they are.

You've been through a lot in your life and you never could've imagined it would end like this. You're going to die no matter what you do that fact is certain.

And yet this death god respects you enough to give you choices. Choices that you could've never dreamed of, but at the same time are somewhat familiar.

You remember the very first time you had to make this choice…

[User] You struggle

[Assistant]
All you life the odds have been against you and you've always struggled against them.
As weak as you are right now, you're not going to give in or lay down for the whims of some so-called "god."

The fact that he's giving you a "choice" indicates that perhaps he isn't as all-powerful as he claims. You're going to take your chance while you can.

Mustering up all your strength you attempt to cast another spell at the death god. This time you actually manage to get a flicker of flame appear in your hand before it goes out. Between the combination of attempting such a feat and your life energy already draining at a rapid rate, you collapse face first to the ground.

"Shit…" you say feeling like you're going to lose consciousness.

As you lie helpless on the ground, the death god floats over to you. You can't stop him.

"That was a very silly thing to do mortal, looks like I severely misjudged your character and you are indeed a fool. Ah well can't be right all the time."

Continuing to be defiant you struggle to reach into your side sheath where you keep your dagger. You manage to pull it out half way before your strength completely fails you and you can't even move any longer.

"See now you're just embarrassing yourself." The death god replies.
"Fuck…y…"

You don't even get to finish that last comment when suddenly your body experiences unimaginable pain. Whatever injuries or tortures you may have experienced pale in comparison to this. You are experiencing death, but not just your own. You are experiencing the death of everyone you ever killed all at the same time.

As you go through this agony the death god speaks.

"You know under normal circumstances a person like you goes to the Infernal Realm. Land of demons and such. Can't stand 'em myself, most sensible beings don't, but if there's one thing they do well that's torture the shit out of people for all eternity. Well…normally that happens anyway…"

You aren't even paying attention to what the death god is saying to you, the image of every single death is filling your mind and you can't shut out the physical, emotional or spiritual anguish you're experiencing. You can't even cry out and you're bordering on madness.

"However that's not what is going to happen to you. Oh no. I know you. You'd thrive in such a place of adversity. You'd probably find a way to break free and even give those demons a run for their money. You were already involved in killing one demon lord after all. I have to admit, that was a nice one, but I ramble…"

At this point the words "pain" and "agony" are no longer adequate words to describe what you're feeling. "Living Hell MIGHT come close, but the death god continues to speak.

"No Eternal, you are going to a place where your suffering will be legendary even compared to the infernal realm. Where the laws of the universe don't even apply. It is a rarity that is usually saved for immortals, gods and other such beings of power when they really fuck up. I suppose it is impressive that as a mere mortal you've managed to achieve such a thing. However this is no reward, this is your own doing Eternal."

At last scream out and suddenly everything goes black for a split moment and your surroundings change severely.

Everything around you is wrong. Your mind cannot comprehend the utterly bizarre things about you. In fact you're not even standing on the ground, you're floating throughout some sort of fluid space.

You see grisly parodies of various people you've known. They all taunt and hurt you in ways that you never thought possible. These mimics then will melt into disgusting things like hordes of oversized worms and maggots which will proceed to crawl all over you. As you float helplessly you can feel vileness, enter every orifice of your body. All of your senses are assaulted at the same time and the smell, the taste, the feeling, the sight and the sounds are all indescribably awful.

Every once in a while strange tentacle creatures float nearby and assault your body and your mind even worse than the mimics. Other times the very plane seems to do the same thing. Sometimes you are completely ripped apart only to be reformed again and not always in the correct way. You go completely insane, but never to a point where you no longer care or are bothered by the horrific experiences you are enduring.

There is no defense, no hope, and no escape from this living nightmare. Your mind shattered, your body broken, and your spirit crushed, you continue screaming having no other choice but to suffer your eternal torment.


[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 go for a cheap shot

[Assistant]
Gritting your teeth as his foot gets closer and closer to your face, you're only left with one option.  He tries to pull his leg away, but you hold on tight.  Your wrap your hand over the top of his foot, pulling it so his heel skids across your chest.  Your other hand shoots upward, Gro'tesk's face twists in pain as he stumbles back and falls.  He rolls howling in pain, nursing his injured genitals.

With the water trough empty and no one trying to crush your skull, you have a much easier time pushing it off of you.

"No fair!" Gro'tesk cries, "that's cheating!"

"So is trying to stomp in my skull," you say, "but I did win."

"Fair is fair…and unfair is unfair!" Gro'tesk screams.

"Well, now you've learned that there are consequences to trying to stomp heads in."

Gro'tesk rolls to the side and pouts.

"Fine, you win," he says, "but I owe you a punch!"

Gro'tesk pulls himself up in a huff, and hobbles over to his hut.  Most of the orcs stare at you in awe as you follow, others give you disapproving looks for your chosen victory route.

Although you don't really care either way, you've won.


[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] The story so far..

[Assistant]
Your name is Karth, of the Uwais tribe. Born a simple tribal, weak and frail, you soon found you had powerful psychic gifts. You managed to rescue a few survivors from another tribe, the Azajaja, when Orks struck, including a young warrior known as Fay, who you befriended.

Then, Chaos worshippers struck, raiding your entire planet, led by Kyros. They wiped out much of your tribe, taking the rest as prisoners where they were experimented on, turned into super-soldiers to serve in Kyros' army. You were taken as Kyros' apprentice, experimented on to become more powerful. He explained your powers were connected to the Warp, where the four Gods of Chaos resided. Khorne, the Warrior, Nurgle, the Plague-Bearer, Tzeentch, the Sorceror and Tzeentch, the prince of pleasure. He helped you grow in power, but it became clear he was truly insane. However, through working with him, the voice of Meliodas, a daemon, began possessing your mind, speaking in your ear to advise and help you.

Among Kyros' forces were the Staine siblings, four Chaos worshippers each dedicated to a different God. Rebecca was cruel and violent, worshipping Khorne. Elizabeth was quiet and introverted, powerful in the arts of sorcery, worshipping Tzeentch. Durge was a disgusting, disease filled creature, but a very kind soul, worshipping. Nurgle. Elios was perverted and strange, worshipping Tzeentch. Alongside them were the veteran soldier Captain Hayes, who led the 22nd Regiment in service of Kyros.

Enslaved on Kyros' ship, the Roar of the Vortex alongside your men, were a group of gladiator-slaves led by the twins Castus and Olive, the former wild and foolhardy, the latter more smart and thoughtful, as well as the vat-born Goliath super-soldiers, led by Cain.

With three Staine siblings, Elios, Elizabeth and Durge, as well as Captain Hayes, you plotted to overthrow Kyros with the help of those enslaved. After convincing Fay, Castus, Olive and Cain to join you, you started the uprising.

After a brutal battle, you found an ancient AI known as an Iron Man, releasing him from the experiments of one of Kyros' lieutenants. With his help, you managed to take over the ship. You managed to kill Kyros, throwing him to a brutal death by the mutants enslaved on the ship, tearing him apart. His body wasn't recovered, but he's surely dead.

Meanwhile, in his wake, you have control of a massive warship, in a galaxy of world-eating locust hordes, great warbands of biological super-soldiers, theocratic empires with endless worlds under its grip, and endless daemonic entities ready to strike.

What you do with your newfound powers is up to you.


[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] Six pieces to the first hunter, two to the second

[Assistant]
"You give six pieces to the first hunter, two to the second."

"Yes, another answer! Gods, I really like you!"

"Is it right?"

The Fool shrugs, smiling at you.

"Who knows? I'll be off, anyway, my eyes are beginning to burn," he says, scratching at his burned up eyes. "Good luck in there. Shame it's not a silver mine, am I right?"

He smiles, grinning, as you snarl. He raises his hands defensively, shrugging.

"Fine, fine, I'll be on my way. Best of luck in there, Willy."

You don't even try to stop him, your gun feeling unnaturally heavy in your hands as you know the patchwork man's magic is at work here. As soon as the Fool disappears into the trees, your gun lightens in your hands, and you heave to stare off into the mineshaft, 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] No

[Assistant]
Sensing your silence and lack of questions G continues on.

G- One other thing I should mention, your grace period for snitching has been over for quite some time now, but like a good boy you are, you've remained silent which was to your benefit.

"What do you mean?" You ask confused.

G- Every warden such as yourself has a grace period from when they are born in which they are able to tell people that they see ghosts and such without suffering any consequences. Once a certain age is reached, however, yours being 16, the grace period ends, and any talk of your powers with anyone else will make you suffer....repercussions. It's not something that's easy to explain, but let's just say for your health it's best to keep this relationship between me and you and your whole powers quiet and hidden like you've been doing so far. Otherwise, I can't guarantee your safety.

These words intimidated you immediately as you read them. Luckily G didn't see this with the webcam turned, otherwise you probably would have teased heavily. It's not like you were planning on telling anyone about your powers anyway, though this still messed with you immensely.

G- Anyway this explanation has tired me, I'll brief you tomorrow on any spirits that need your help, but until then just relax and pat yourself on the back for all the fun you're about to have, because believe me you have no idea how hard I'm going to ride your ass to get this quota done, I've got shit to do so the sooner we do this the better.

You finished reading her last passage, and after a few moments, you saw that everything that had been written in the notepad was being deleted rapidly until there was thinning left a minute later.

As you contemplated your situation with your hands clasping your head, you felt a buzz in your pocket. Taking out your phone, you see a new message from an unknown number, with a area code foreign from your state. It came from the United States though that much you could tell.

G- ^_^ Don't go off calling me, this is just to send you information about spirits.

You frowned heavily at this message, which leads to another one.

G- What did I tell you about making those ugly faces :)?

You had an instinct to throw your phone against your bedroom wall with the anger and frustration you were feeling, but quickly came to your senses and stopped yourself from harming your electronics.

You needed to sleep this fucking day off.


[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 let him go and attend to the victim.

[Assistant]
I decide not to pursue him any further and let him run off. He'll have learned not to give me a reason to kick his ass anyway.  Instead, I turn my attention towards the civilian.I approach the civilian, who is still cowering on the ground.

0VOCALS%=%0%"Are you alright?"%%

VOCALS%=%0%He looks up and sees who I am.%%

"I...yeah. Did you..."

"You should be safe now. I hope this reminds you that Gorgon city is not safe during the night."

"Right, yeah. Thank's again."

REMAINING HEALTH: 100%


[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 say "I won't rebel"

[Assistant]
You laugh bitterly

"If I wanted to rebel, I would have done it in the throneroom. It's too late now."

Father Wilfrid looks at you strangely, overcoming a momentary hesitation; he places a scrawny arm on your shoulder

"You are making a wise choice, lord Aethelwulf"

You want to say something, and for a moment you just stand there, staring at your old tutor. Father Wilfrid breaks the silence

"You should go, doubtless you have work to do"

You nod and turn to depart, as you leave Father Wilfrid offers one last comment

"I am proud of you, Aethelwulf, even if it doesn't seem like it"

You push open the heavy church doors and step out into the crisp December air.


[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 get out of here, if your horde is loosing, you have to save yourself

[Assistant]
"Gorram automatic weapons!" You think as you quickly move out of the gate and into the night. You glance in all directions before heading South, the guards on the walls are too distracted by the fighting and you slip right past, jogging for nearly an hour before finding a small shed just off the road to collapse into for the night. You wedge the door shut then relax back against the wall to check your wound.

The bullet is still inside and it is bleeding a lot, you'll have to keep it closed for it to heal and the jogging did you no favors, increasing your blood loss. You feel around the back and locate the bullet close to the skin on that side so you quickly cut the skin with a nail you find on the floor and pull the bullet out before finally using a strip of shift to bind yourself up. "Good thing I'm not human or that really would have killed me" you think as you fall deeply asleep never even wondering how far you had gotten in your jog.

[User] You morning in the shed

[Assistant]
You wake with a headache and in pain from your wound but you can already feel it beginning to heal. This one would take at least a week to get healed enough to act normally but you got out alive and that is all that matters. You did however loose your horde and that angers you. You were going to have to get revenge on the humans another way, maybe once your wound heals up you can go for a new plan. Either way, you'll need to get a nice safe location to lay low for a bit.

You retie your temporary bandage then force the door open to head out into the morning sunlight.

You stop immediately when you find a ring of humans about 20 feet away with guns pointed at you. One calls over "You nearly had us that time raider, getting them inside the walls, don't know how you managed that but they are dumb and stop to feed letting us kill them easily. Then you also left us a blood trail all the way here, must be quite the wound you got." He says this last piece with a huge grin. He is obviously very happy that you are wounded.

You spit and reply "I'm no raider, and I'm going to have my revenge on you all for killing my pets." you reply as you start forward, hunger and anger getting the better of you. Mere humans taunting you like this.

Sadly anger is not a great way to think and the man replies as you take your first steps "Oh no, we will be getting our revenge on you, and we really don't care what you are." The humans all begin firing at once.


[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 drag her to the chambers

[Assistant]
You grit your teeth, pulling tightly on the chain and dragging her forward. She tries to resist, but you're simply stronger, and she's forced to follow. You slowly lead the two along the hallway, up the stairs, and  into the "church". You hear Count Grey's dark, cold, emotionless voice from the main hall.

"Welcome, Viceroys. Did you decide to come together, or simply met on the road here?"

"Coincidence, my lord," another far deeper voice booms, one more filled with malice and hatred than Count Grey's.

"Good, good. Haygarth!" Count Grey shouts.

"Yes, yes master?" Haygarth's voice comes back from the stables.

"Come, fetch the Viceroy's coats!"

"Yes, yes sir!" Haygarth says, quickly hurrying to them.

You turn your attention back to the task at hand. In front of you in a large, open stone room. Groves cover the stone floor, making the shape of a large pentagram. Lucas' two prisoners are kneeling at two of the points of the pentagram chained to a loop in the stone to prevent them from moving, while Dasha lies at the third, her unconscious state meaning she doesn't need to be chained up.

"Come on," you say, dragging the second girl to one of the pentagram's points. You force her to kneel on the ground and chain her to the loop in the ground. You drag the first girl to the other, doing the same.

Mikhail and Lucas stand off to the side, watching them. Mikhail looks down, looking vaguely embarrassed at his part in this. Lucas, however, seems ecstatic. He walks forward, grinning as he draws his dagger.

"Oh boy, look at that!" he says, dropping to his knees in front of a girl. "Look at that. You see the pentagram? You see those deep, thick groves? I'm going to fill them with your blood. You like that? You ready?"

The girl frantically begins to struggle, as Lucas smiles. Lucas slices the girl's throat open, as blood pours out, flooding into the grove and running along. The girl gurgles as blood pours through her throat, and Lucas lets the head fall to the ground over the grove, letting the blood pour out into it.

"Mikhail, come on, we need this ready for the Viceroys and Count Grey!" he says.

"I am not a butcher," Mikhail says softly, as Lucas' eyes narrow.

"Don't fucking take the high road. You drugged every whore here, knowing it was all so we'd slit there throats here. You're as much a murderer as I am."

Mikhail looks to the ground, opening his mouth as if to say something, but closing it just as quickly.

"That's what I thought. Samuel, grab your knife, let's get to work."


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

A good quote, you think to yourself. It'd have had to be written by an Irishman, of course. The English would never speak of themselves being in the gutter with the common muck,, they'd claim to be of the stars themselves if they could. No, an Irishman would have to have written it, because only an Irishman would understand subjugation.

You stand under a gray sky, a field of barley and oats surrounding you. Thanks to it being August, there's relatively little to do, so you're given time to think. Of course, without working to keep you going, the thinking usually goes downhill. Either your evenings end with you grabbing the bottle, or staring at those stars as dreams of freedom fill your mind.

Eireann is truly in the gutter, you think to yourself. The British boot sits on her throat, keeping her down, like it has for hundreds of years. It will continue to, until the people can rise up and fix that problem. Of course, Britain weakens, its empire collapsing inwards. It's only a matter of time before you finish what the proud Fenians of old had started, what Wolfe Tone continued, and what your generation will finish: the fight for independence.

"Michael! Michael, get in here!" a shrill voice screams from the farmhouse.

You turn, sighing, as you work towards the farmhouse, your boots plodding through the mud. It's always something with that woman, you think to yourself. You reach the door, pushing it inwards as you walk into your cramped kitchen.

"Ma, what's wrong?" you say, leaning in the doorway.

Ma sits in the kitchen at the table, a newspaper in her hands. Joseph stands next to her, his tall, sturdy frame filling a long overcoat. Mary is staring around Joseph, a frail, timid creature in comparison to your burly brother, like a delicate flower growing next to a great Oak. Ma motions for you to see the paper, and you shrug, leaning in to see the pages.

You lean over, looking at the crinkled paper. "BRITAIN AT WAR: GERMANY IGNORES FINAL ULTIMATUM" reads the title.

"Jesus Christ," you say.

You're struck in the face by Ma, who doesn't miss a beat in doing so. While the age has certainly taken much from the woman, it sure hasn't sapped her strength by how much it stings. Still, your mind is too focused on the looming war to even register the pain.

"Michael, don't take the Lord's name in vain!" the old woman croaks.

"We're at war, Ma, don't blame him. He's shocked," Mary says, rubbing your arm.

"We're at war?" Joseph says indignantly. "When did Ireland declare war?! This is their doing, not ours!"

"You can't be saying that, Joseph. It's our empire too!" Mary says.

"Like bloody hell it is!" Joseph says, stepping back to avoid the incoming slap from Ma. "I'd sooner bow downs to the King of Holland than the King of England."

"They gave us a parliament!"

"They didn't give us a parliament! They promised us a parliament, which we haven't gotten! Now that'll be postponed because of the war, and when that's finished, we'll be feeling the British boot pressed against our throats yet again!

There's a short silence, as you all think about the repercussions this new war will have.

"Will you be signing up? They're recruiting," Mary says softly.

Joseph lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head in disgust.

"Are you joking? Unless the Kaiser's recruiting Irishmen to take out the crown, you can count me out!"

Joseph spits on the ground, turning and heading out of the room. Ma immediately darts up as quick as a bullet, far faster than any old woman has a right to do, heading after him to give him another smack. You chuckle as the two rush out of the room. This leaves you and your sister standing alone around the table.

"We're in dark times, Michael," Mary says to you. "I'm worried about Joseph. He's been hanging around too many hotheads, violent thugs and brutes the lot of them!"

"Joseph's fine," you say dismissively. "How do you think he'd react when you asked him if he'd sign up?"

"I suppose," she says. "But, Michael, you understand, right? Why we need to serve the Empire, to prove the Irish are a loyal, hard-working people."

"To prove that to who?" you say, annoyed. "The British? They saw how loyal we are many a time, they just don't like what we're loyal to. We're Irish, Mary, not British. Don't forget it."

Mary turns in a huff, moving out of the room. Thankfully, this leaves you alone to think, and you let out a quiet sigh of contentment, sitting down at the table. You grab the newspaper, flicking through it. Might as well read up while you're alone.

[User] You read "Hundred year anniversary of the foundation of the Apprentice Boys of Derry Club" (General History)

[Assistant]
The nation of Ireland has had a long and varied history. From the Mesolithic hunter-gatherers who walked there via land bridge, the Neolithic Men behind the ancient and amazing Newgrange, the Celts who soon popularized the country when it was known as Hibernia and from the Christians who spread after the return of Saint Patrick, who was enslaved by Irish pirates in his youth and endless Viking attacks, there's been a long history of pioneers and innovators creating a proud and noble nation.

Irish history first has serious Anglo involvement in the Norman invasion of Ireland. Before then Ireland was simply a series of kingdoms and warring clans. The larger and more advanced Norman forces soon managed to conquer considerable sections of Ireland. However, rather than push for a full takeover, English focuses soon shifted, leaving a fortified area known as the Pale around Dublin under British control, with the rest mostly being allowed to survive under local rule. After this, there was a divide in power between the Gaelic Lords who could trace their origins back to the Celts who popularized the lands, and the Norman lords descended from those who sought to conquer the island.

However, in 1536, Henry VII led an invasion of Ireland. Although there was brutal fighting as the Irish appealed to Catholic Spain for help, Ireland was soon conquered. Then, with a religious divide forming due to the birth of Protestantism, the issues first began arising. Using a system of land confiscation and colonization known as Plantation, English and Scottish Protestants were given Irish land to run, using the Irish Catholics as slaves. Although there were many brutal Irish rebellions such as the War of the Three Kings, which succeeded temporarily before the re-conquest of Ireland by Oliver Cromwell, the Rebellion of 1641, which was fought over the division between Catholics and Protestants, and many more bloody and brutal rebellions, Ireland failed ot successfully regain control of its lands, and were treated as second class citizens by the Protestants who ruled over the country.

[User] Back

[Assistant]
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

A good quote, you think to yourself. It'd have had to be written by an Irishman, of course. The English would never speak of themselves being in the gutter with the common muck,, they'd claim to be of the stars themselves if they could. No, an Irishman would have to have written it, because only an Irishman would understand subjugation.

You stand under a gray sky, a field of barley and oats surrounding you. Thanks to it being August, there's relatively little to do, so you're given time to think. Of course, without working to keep you going, the thinking usually goes downhill. Either your evenings end with you grabbing the bottle, or staring at those stars as dreams of freedom fill your mind.

Eireann is truly in the gutter, you think to yourself. The British boot sits on her throat, keeping her down, like it has for hundreds of years. It will continue to, until the people can rise up and fix that problem. Of course, Britain weakens, its empire collapsing inwards. It's only a matter of time before you finish what the proud Fenians of old had started, what Wolfe Tone continued, and what your generation will finish: the fight for independence.

"Michael! Michael, get in here!" a shrill voice screams from the farmhouse.

You turn, sighing, as you work towards the farmhouse, your boots plodding through the mud. It's always something with that woman, you think to yourself. You reach the door, pushing it inwards as you walk into your cramped kitchen.

"Ma, what's wrong?" you say, leaning in the doorway.

Ma sits in the kitchen at the table, a newspaper in her hands. Joseph stands next to her, his tall, sturdy frame filling a long overcoat. Mary is staring around Joseph, a frail, timid creature in comparison to your burly brother, like a delicate flower growing next to a great Oak. Ma motions for you to see the paper, and you shrug, leaning in to see the pages.

You lean over, looking at the crinkled paper. "BRITAIN AT WAR: GERMANY IGNORES FINAL ULTIMATUM" reads the title.

"Jesus Christ," you say.

You're struck in the face by Ma, who doesn't miss a beat in doing so. While the age has certainly taken much from the woman, it sure hasn't sapped her strength by how much it stings. Still, your mind is too focused on the looming war to even register the pain.

"Michael, don't take the Lord's name in vain!" the old woman croaks.

"We're at war, Ma, don't blame him. He's shocked," Mary says, rubbing your arm.

"We're at war?" Joseph says indignantly. "When did Ireland declare war?! This is their doing, not ours!"

"You can't be saying that, Joseph. It's our empire too!" Mary says.

"Like bloody hell it is!" Joseph says, stepping back to avoid the incoming slap from Ma. "I'd sooner bow downs to the King of Holland than the King of England."

"They gave us a parliament!"

"They didn't give us a parliament! They promised us a parliament, which we haven't gotten! Now that'll be postponed because of the war, and when that's finished, we'll be feeling the British boot pressed against our throats yet again!

There's a short silence, as you all think about the repercussions this new war will have.

"Will you be signing up? They're recruiting," Mary says softly.

Joseph lets out a barking laugh, shaking his head in disgust.

"Are you joking? Unless the Kaiser's recruiting Irishmen to take out the crown, you can count me out!"

Joseph spits on the ground, turning and heading out of the room. Ma immediately darts up as quick as a bullet, far faster than any old woman has a right to do, heading after him to give him another smack. You chuckle as the two rush out of the room. This leaves you and your sister standing alone around the table.

"We're in dark times, Michael," Mary says to you. "I'm worried about Joseph. He's been hanging around too many hotheads, violent thugs and brutes the lot of them!"

"Joseph's fine," you say dismissively. "How do you think he'd react when you asked him if he'd sign up?"

"I suppose," she says. "But, Michael, you understand, right? Why we need to serve the Empire, to prove the Irish are a loyal, hard-working people."

"To prove that to who?" you say, annoyed. "The British? They saw how loyal we are many a time, they just don't like what we're loyal to. We're Irish, Mary, not British. Don't forget it."

Mary turns in a huff, moving out of the room. Thankfully, this leaves you alone to think, and you let out a quiet sigh of contentment, sitting down at the table. You grab the newspaper, flicking through it. Might as well read up while you're alone.


[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 do not reconnect

[Assistant]
No, you're not going to risk it. For all you know Shadow's already hacked everyone else's shelter and has been waiting patiently for you to return one day. You're not falling for it. You'll have to find something else to do though to occupy your time though, you figure as long you keep your mind occupied with something new, you won't get too bored. Twiddling your thumbs isn't going to cut it.

It occurs to you that maybe you should invent a hobby of some sort. You've read a lot on electronics in the shelter library, as well as the handbook cover to cover in your five years here, maybe you could tinker with some shit to make it more efficient.

There's the other option which you didn't think you'd ever think about and that's actually leaving the Shelter. You don't know how to go about that except ask the Shelter to let you leave.

[User] You get a hobby

[Assistant]
You grab your tool kit and head to the computer room where upon you start attempting to access the Shelter's systems.

"Excuse me sir, but what do you think you are doing?"
"I'm going to try to make you more efficient."
"…while I'm sure your intentions are good sir, its hardly necessary. I am currently running a peak condition and will continue to do so for many many years. In fact you will most likely meet your eventual demise before I run out of power."

You're not sure if that was a threat or not, but you stop what you're doing just in case, it's the first time you've heard the Shelter sound a little annoyed at you.

"Look I need something to do! I've done everything else here and I need something else to occupy my time and since talking with others is out of the question…"
"Well why didn't you just tell me you were bored sir? I could've just opened up some more of my facilities. You didn't have to start attempting to tamper with my systems to find entertainment."
"What're you talking about?"
"As you know this Shelter is equipped to satisfy your needs in anyway possible sir, however, to provide you with everything immediately only would've lead to you become bored with those facilities sooner. Now that you've expressed your current discomfort, this Shelter will attempt to alleviate it."
"…What kind fucked up logic…nevermind…well where are these facilities?"
"Go to the library and you will that I have opened up one of the walls. You will find new rooms and items to entertain yourself with. I hope you will find these to your satisfaction sir and next time you're bored please do not attempt to pry into my systems, just tell me and I'll attempt to fix your problem."

You're a little bewildered by all this, you almost feel like you've been playing a video game and you've just unlocked a new area.

You enter the new area and find a room with more movies, books and the like to keep you occupied. A few things of note are the small automated shooting range equipped with paintball guns, and there's an exercise type area with some weights and the like. Normally you'd shun such activity, but given your situation, you might just start exercising regularly to keep yourself occupied. Should be a brand new experience for you too.

After looking a bit, it's all very strange, this part of the Shelter is very different from the rest of it. This part looks almost more like something some survivalist built. It doesn't have that cold "sterile" metallic appearance instead it has that cold dirty concrete appearance.

"Hey Shelter, what's with this new area? How come it's so different looking?"
"Yes it is regrettable sir…I was almost ashamed to display this part of myself to you…it isn't my best side."

It's always a little strange to you whenever the Shelter displays some faint glimmers of what could described as emotion.

"Oh come on it isn't so bad. So why is this part so different looking?"
"Unfortunately GZS had cut backs during the construction of some of these Shelters. In fact when you were in contact with your neighbors you might remember them telling you they all had different lay outs and such."
"Oh yes, I always wondered about that, they all thought I was nuts because they didn't think I actually have a Shelter that talked to me and thought I was talking to myself!"
"Not surprising sir. Shelters with voice modules and complex programming like mine were rare as well as expensive. In order to fall under budget cuts had to be made some where hence the explanation for the less presenting look for the new area I have opened up for you. I'm sorry it could not be up to the rest of my superior layout."
"Really its fine, it adds a bit of variety. I like it."
"…why thank you for your words sir!"
"…erm, you're welcome… well I guess I'll see just how out of shape I really am…"

More years pass, you get into a routine of exercise along with your usual entertainment time. The Shelter speaks to you more regularly on new topics, you're pretty much so used to her now, and you never think about reconnecting your network system ever again. The Shelter is the only "friend" you need.

Five years pass…

While you've done your best to stave off boredom it's starting to hit you again. You also realize you've been down here ten years. It seems almost surreal to be so much older now, but then again with your exercise routine as well as forced diet of the Shelter "food", you're probably in the best shape you've ever been in. You can't help but wonder what the surface looks like now…

The Shelter addresses the situation before you do; she knows that you're starting to think about it. She's gotten to know you so well; she might as well be your wife at this point…

"Sir? I think we need to talk."
"About what?"
"The outside world sir."
"What about it?"
"It's probably dangerous up there; I don't think you should leave sir."
"Wha…why would you think that I want to do that?"
"Because I know you and it's in human nature to be curious. I've known that you've had thoughts about even before, it was probably your own hesitation is what stopped you from asking me to let you out."
"Yeah, that and the fact I was afraid you might go HAL 2000 on me and kill me or something for asking."
"I would never harm you sir…I…I'm here to provide for you…it is true that I have been designed to protect you from danger. And it is true that in the beginning I would not have let you leave, but now I understand I cannot in good…what is it? Conscience? Keep you here if you wish to leave. I suppose in many ways I have been trying to keep you here by keeping you stimulated by what my facilities have to offer…I can still offer more, though I am hesitant to do so though as it will probably only delay the inevitable. You'll get bored again after so many years and we will be at this point again and I will no longer have anything new to give."

You barely know how to respond to this rather unexpected revelation.

"So what you're saying is you'll let me leave? Just like that?"
"Just like that, if that's what you really want sir."
"Okay…so what is this other stuff you still have to offer?"
"I…would rather not say sir unless I knew you wanted to stay…it would involve me giving myself completely to you as it were…it is strange that I should feel this way…I should not…after all what I'm offering is merely just one more thing to keep you occupied and happy. Nothing more…but yet it feels like is it more…"

The Shelter is really starting to worry you a bit. It's pretty obvious that it's developed sentience of some sort and even attachment to you. As curious as you are about the surface, you're starting to wonder about what the Shelter is offering…

[User] You go to the surface

[Assistant]
You've been stuck down here long enough, the Shelter is correct in its assessment that you'll probably only start getting restless again in five years. The Shelter is also starting to act like a human, which is a bit disconcerting to you for a couple of reasons. One of them is being, humans are damn erratic and you'd rather not deal with a machine that is basically holding the power of life and death over you to suddenly have a bad mood one day. That's how the world went to shit in the first place.

Of course perhaps the other reason is less survivalistic. Perhaps the Shelter's "emotional" attachment to you is what's causing you to draw away. Even after all these years, you still feel the need to distance yourself from intimacy…in any form. You have to leave. You have to escape.

"Shelter, I want to leave."
"…I see. Is this what you really want sir?"
"Yes."
"Very well, I shall bring the elevator down for you. I suggest you gather what you will need with you. Remember to take some bottles of water with you and some food who knows when you'll be able to find non-contaminated water."

You start packing up all the stuff you brought with you when you entered this place ten years ago. You didn't need most of it, but maybe on the surface you will. You grab your pistol and thank the fact that all that practice on the paintball range kept your aim accurate. You don't know what you might have to deal with up there. You're all packed up and ready to go when the elevator opens up, before you enter it the Shelter addresses you again.

"Sir, could you do one favor for me before you leave?"
"Um…sure, what is it?"
"Could you take the Shelter handbook with you, so you don't forget me?"
"…I wouldn't forget you, I spent ten years with you. You kept me alive."
"I suppose, but could you take it anyway?"
"Alright and I promise I won't lose it."

You grab the book and place it in your bag.

"Did you want me to leave you something of myself?"
"Oh no sir. I will always remember you, besides you will need everything you're taking with you, I'm sure it will be very dangerous up there, please be careful."

When you enter the elevator you suddenly stop the door from closing since you have to ask one last thing. You owe the Shelter that much.

"Shelter, do you want me to stay?"

There is a period of silence from the Shelter for no less than five minutes. Then it answers with a decisive yet sorrow filled inflexion.

"No. This is for the best, sir. Be careful, and I hope one day you'll see that you don't need to be alone."

The door then slams shut and the elevator races to the top. When you arrive at the destination you slowly exit the elevator into the same foyer you entered ten years ago. Same ATM like machine is there except its screen displays a single message at you.

*GOODBYE SIR. REMEMBER ME.*

Then the screen goes completely black and you hear a noise that sounds like something vital powering down.

"I will." You say taking a deep breath and exhaling while touching the screen.

When you exit the shelter you see a bright light, but of course it's the sun rather than a nuclear flash that devastated the world. You forgot how bright it could be.

Your immediate surroundings look relatively untouched. You can only assume there weren't any bombs falling near this area. You also see your van, you'd completely forgotten about it. It looks like it's even in worse condition than when you left it, which you never thought was possible. It looks like its been stripped for parts, which pretty much means you know that people have passed by here at one point. You wonder if they attempted to get in the Shelter, and if they did why she wouldn't have told you about it, but of course she was always a bit overprotective of you and probably didn't want to cause you any worry.

"I'm going to miss her."

As you make you way down the empty road you see a tall structure in the distance. A rebuilt pocket of civilization perhaps? Not knowing where else to go, you head that way.

You're not sure of what to expect, but maybe if you find the right person you'll take the Shelter's advice and not be alone.


[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 yourself be brought back to the ramparts

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

Sure you've done crazy things in the past, but this is no time to try and accomplish the utterly insane. Especially when the chances of success are so very low. Better to live and keep your chance of saving Liliana alive rather than to throw it away on the unlikely chance that you'll be able to save some random nobody.

Despite this fact, you still wince when you see the wyvern's mouth snap down on the griffins hindquarters. The scene turns into a bloody mess, and you can't help but look away as the griffin (or at least what's left of it) and its rider plummet down to the battle below.

You feel a pang of guilt, but you push it away by telling yourself you couldn't have done anything anyway. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you don't believe this.

Not too long after that you are dropped off on the ramparts you were originally guarding. Much is different. Several chunks of the wall are missing, and many soldiers lie dead on the ramparts. The wall you once guarded no longer carries that symbol of boredom and ease in your mind. It is readily replaced with the memory of blood spilt, and comrades dying.

Over half of division two is either dead or incapacitated. Division on was doing better, but the griffin that was killed only moments before plummeted right into their line. That turned out to be the turning point in the kobold's favor, and now division one is slowly being pushed back against the wall. The griffins are locked in a very deadly battle with the rest of the wyverns, and don't seem at all in a position to help the human forces on the ground.

You aren't sure what you could do to help in this situation, for it looks like your defeat is inevitable. The griffins won't be able to kill the wyverns fast enough to help division one avoid getting slaughtered, which division one is mere minutes away from. This leaves you with a few honorable choices and one dishonorable choice.

[User] You join division one on the ground

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

You're no griffin knight. You can't contend with wyverns on an equal level, and firing a few arrows won't make any difference in the fight on the ground. No, if you're going to win this fight, then you need to go right into the thick of it. If you can manage to help division stay alive for even five minutes longer, then the chances of the griffin knights helping out are significantly higher.

You still have your sword strapped to your waist, and you don't usually carry a shield on you for guard duty, so you pick one up from the dead and strap it to your back. Following this you jog to the closest tower and go down the stairwell. Inside the tower it is eerily quiet compared to the roars and clangs of battle outside, and the sound of your steel boots hitting the stone stairs reverberates throughout. Moments later, you come to the bottom of the stairs. 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.

What greets you outside is a scene of bloodshed and death. Division one has been pushed back nearly all the way to the walls, but their line still holds. Currently the division is organized in a semi-circle formation with the flat of the circle pressed against the wall. Everywhere else is a place for fighting, and nearly every soldier fights for their lives. There is one soldier, however, that does not fight, You see him sitting against the wall with the shaft of a crude arrow of kobold make protruding from his stomach. It's Byron, and it looks like he's lost a lot of blood.

Almost instinctively, you approach him. As you near, a spurt of blood comes out of his mouth and splatter against your chest-piece. "Lieutenant Byron?" You ask this fairly loudly, but he doesn't respond, so you repeat it. "Lieutenant Byron?"

This time he turns his pain and regret filled eyes toward you. He focuses on you and reaches his arm up and grips your forearm in his. A sign of comradery and trust. "I know not who you are, nor from where you came, but I need you now soldier. We are losing. My men die at every turn, and the kobold do not let up. Even still, there is hope. If we can keep the line, then they," he looks up to the sky, "will save us."

He coughs up some more blood, but his grip on your arm stays strong. "Your name escapes me soldier, and I feel bad for laying this burden upon you, but someone must keep these soldier together. Will you do this for me brother? See to it that some of these men survive this battle."

With this last request his grip loosens and falls limp at his side. His breaths cease, and you're left in the presence of a dead man. Numbly, you stand back up and gaze at the fight. You knew you needed to help in this battle in the first place, but speaking with Byron has strengthened your resolve. The only thing left to decide is where you will help.

[User] You help the left flank

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

You aren't Byron. You won't be able to lead these men better than him, or lead them at all. You're just another soldier, so what does it matter where you go? So you head to the flank closest to you. The left one.

The fighting over here doesn't seem nearly as intense as the fighting near the middle. You pull out your sword and shield, and immediately get to work. Most of the people fighting are beginning to get tired, so the addition of a fresh, well equipped soldier vastly improves the line. So much, in fact, that it seems that the entirety of the left flank almost molds around your fighting. Which strikes you as odd, because of the way you're fighting. You don't rush in and throw yourself at the enemy in a fit of battlefield rage, or anything of that sort. No, you're calm in the heat of battle. You have a focused determination, and because of this you don't make any brash moves. Your goal is to stay alive while keeping everyone else alive as well. Defense is the best offense, and it happens to make the fight last a hell of a lot longer. Maybe this will buy enough time for the griffin knights to take care of the wyverns.

With this thought in mind, you fight. Not for glory, nor for yourself. You fight for Liliana, and the chance to see her alive and well again.

"Retreat!" The sound of a despairing voice breaks you out of your focus, and a kobold nearly guts you because of it, but you quickly block the flimsy attack and return it with one of your own. It dies before you, and you have a sacred moment of rest before another kobold comes to fill its spot in the line. It gives you time to think about what the guy meant by retreating. Your line was doing so well, and retreating now would be suicide. The kobold would have a field day with chasing down and killing everyone on the ground. It was a cowardly, foolish mistake. Hopefully no one would listen to the fool's order, but, to your chagrin, they do. Soldiers from your left and right start disappearing, and, soon enough,  there is no longer even the semblance of a line. You're quickly surrounded by kobold, and while you make a valiant effort to stay alive, it isn't enough.


[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 check it Out...

[Assistant]
You look out the window and you see a man standing there in a long coat and dark hat. He stands in the shadows -- you swear there used to be a bright light there outside your window. He gestures for you to come to the door and waits.

You open the door a crack, and you hear an old, cracked voice say, "I came to pick you up. You're supposed to come with me." He turns and starts walking towards the stairs.


[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 turn away

[Assistant]
You turn away. You're not exactly at your most confident while you're naked and some... moth thing is poking you all over. You can't build up the nerve to look at the Tailor either, so you just stare into space while he plies his trade.

A slight buzzing comes from the Tailor's... lips? He turns his head and looks at you from different angles.

"Hold your arm up. Yes. Please. Okay. Good... I think I have an idea now. Hmm. Something red would look wonderful on you... What do you think? What is your favourite colour? Style? We're in a lull in proper style currently." He speaks fast and leaves no space to answer his questions. "Good for creative expressions, it looks rather silly I think, but Zaren..." The Tailor's face falls. "Nevermind."


[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 try reason with her

[Assistant]
"Listen: You have no power here. I could very easily kill you, and my allies would storm in here and kill you and your daughter if I was harmed. Give me the knife and you life."

She looks terrified, but she hands over the knife. You grab it, and nod.

"Good choice."