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

[User] You zuzu Must Be Biding his Time

[Assistant]
Zuzu fought the Avatar more than enough times now to know he can't take that boy alone. Plus, her brother looks like he wants to bite off the Avatar's head. It's time to get Zuzu back. She waits until the Avatar and the girl walk away. Perhaps those two are romantically involved? Ew.

"Capture Iroh," she whispers to the agents.
They nod.

As she comes into their view, Uncle becomes encased in the cave's rock. The dramatic effect works perfectly.

"I expected this kind of treachery from Uncle, but Zuzu, Prince Zuko, you're a lot of things, but you're not a traitor, are you?" You said you're my brother. You said you don't think I'm a monster. Prove it, Zuzu. This's your chance.

"Release him immediately!" You have a one-minded devotion that'd be wonderful if directed correctly. Just give me that devotion.

"It's not too late for you. You can still redeem yourself." The Avatar is walking away from you this moment, dum-dum. Just capture him. Well, I will, but you can have the credit for all I care.

Uncle speaks up. Her agents didn't muzzle the old man. "The kind of redemption she offers is not for you." For the past three years, what lies have you been weaving in his head? Zuzu, I shouldn't have let him come with you.

"Why don't you let him decide, Uncle?" Shut up, old man!

She sighs. Her shoulders slouch. "I need you, Zuko." THERE. I said it. I missed you. You're an idiot, but you're my idiot. "I've plotted every move of this day, this glorious day in Fire Nation history. We can win this together. You will have your honor back. You will have Father's love. You will have everything you want." I will have what I want. I'd have my family again. My real family, not Mother.

"I am begging you." Uncle does sound like he's begging. "Look into your heart and what it is you truly want?" Ug, did you find that line out of a fairy tale? I'm getting your nephew's life back together out of the kindness of my heart. I could execute him for treason, but I'm offering him exactly what he wanted for the past three years. "You are free to choose." And that's the truth, brother.

Azula walks away to confront her two enemies. She knows… she trusts Zuzu will be close behind.

She lets herself slip into her battle mentality. In some ways, it is like a dance. She moves. The Avatar moves. That waterbender moves. It's a state of equilibrium through actions and responses. The Avatar has power. The waterbender has rage. Why is she so angry anyway? Azula has perfection.

A blast of fire flies between her opponents and herself. She doesn't have to turn to know who's here. She smiles as she gains her dancing partner. It's great to have you back, brother.

They work well together, not perfectly. No one can match Azula's perfection, but their cooperation exceeds all others. Even Mai and Ty Lee can't compare to her brother. He doesn't have her power or intelligence, but he has her trust. On a battlefield, trust is more important than anything else for Azula's allies.

Their enemies are overwhelmed. The Avatar mostly dodges. For some, it would wear down his attackers, but Azula could do this for hours while Zuzu seems determined enough to press through well past the Avatar's strength. The waterbender puts up a noble fight, but the girl is a minute away from defeat. Exhaustion will take her.

The Avatar proceeds to bend then hide inside a dome of rocks and crystal. The waterbender fights out of desperation. Why would he abandon her? The Avatar State… No!

Azula runs to where she'd expect to see the back of the Avatar when he comes out. He's entering the Avatar State. I could probably survive, but Zuzu… She narrows her eyes. You aren't going to take Zuzu from me.

She swirls her hands around and clears any feelings from her mind. Electricity cackles from her fingertips.

The Avatar rises from his earthen shelter with his eyes glowing white. He's about to unleash death and destruction on his enemies. Azula points and fires. The lightning strikes his back, and he falls to the ground. The waterbender screams and unleashes a wave of water sweeping up his body.

Zuzu and Azula step towards her. Just give us the body, girl.

A blast of fire forces them to jump back. "You've got to get out of here! I'll hold them off as long as I can!" Uncle's words seem to tear through Zuzu's heart. The police, Zuzu, and Azula all fight Uncle, but he is one of two firebenders Azula couldn't easily destroy in combat. The moment the waterbender leaves, the old man stops fighting and holds out his hands in surrender. The police take him away without a word.

Azula takes Zuzu away from the cave. It seems to be killing him on the inside. She leads him to the Earth King's throne, and not once does he ask her to stop. Azula smiles as she sits on the throne. Zuzu looks broody. It's time to cheer him up.

"Zuzu, we've done it. The war is over. The Avatar is defeated. You can go home, with me."

"I betrayed Uncle."

She stand and walks to him. She pokes him in the chest forcibly. "You. Did. Not. Were you the one to throw fire at him first? Were you the one who wanted to help the Avatar, the very person who'd rip down everting we and our ancestors worked for? Uncle betrayed you. I didn't. I won't."

"But I don't have the Avatar. What if Father doesn't accept it? What if he doesn't restore my honor?"

She puts her hand on his shoulder. "He doesn't need to, Zuzu. Today, you restored your own honor."

She looks at him for a moment longer. Then, she does something she never did before. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him into a hug.

"Welcome home, Zuzu."

[User] You 15

[Assistant]
"Zuzu."

After everything that happened to her in those fifteen years, it all comes down to this moment.

There he stands. Behind him, there's the waterbending girl. The Avatar didn't die. He attacked the capital during an eclipse. They couldn't bend. Only a dishonorable enemy would do that, but the Fire Nation repelled their attack.

Why! Why did Zuzu chose to leave them? He betrayed her! They were getting along! Even he and Mai were getting all lovey-dovey. Ew. He left. Why? She knows why. MOTHER. It's her fault! She was the one who poisoned his mind ever since his birth. After she had to leave, Uncle continued. They turned Zuzu away. He even became the Avatar's firebending teacher! WHY!

Then, Mai betrayed her. She did it so Zuzu could've escaped. He was in her clutches! Azula was going to subdue her, then Ty Lee attacked her. WHY! It doesn't make sense. It doesn't compute. The world… the world doesn't work this way. She's Azula. She doesn't fail.

Then, Father left her behind to kill a bunch of Earth Kingdom civilians. He didn't see her as useful anymore. Why would? Everyone betrays her, so he discarded her like a used concubine. Why must everyone betray her!

She knows why. Mother was right. This entire time, she was right. I'm a monster. It simply took Zuzu longer to realize it.

"Sorry, but you're not gonna become Fire Lord today." He lights his hands on fire. "I am. I challenge you to an Agni Kai."

"I accept."

For the first time in her life, she tries to injure her brother. He fights backs using forms she never saw before, but the girl hardly recognizes anything. She focuses on trying to burn him, hurt him.

Why can't it all be better, when we were young? It was nice then. He didn't think I was a monster.

She did so much for him. He said she was his sister. LIER! He knows she's a monster. Monsters don't have brothers. Monsters don't have joy. They don't have friends or happy ending. Monsters have pain, and they give pain. That's it.

Why is everything on fire? Oh, I forgot. Today is Sozin's Comet! That's why Daddy's killing people and babies. Last time this came, my great-grandfather killed every airbender except the Avatar. Daddy's just gonna use this to kill more people! Why'd I forget that?

Some part of her mind tells her something inside is wrong. She's breaking, slipping. She ignores that voice.

Their flames are more like tornadoes. The palace, the courtyard, everything. There's fire everywhere. It's so hot. She uses her flames to propel her. Maneuverability is… good? Tactical. It's tactical for fights. Daddy says so.

Then, Zuzu throws a really big fireball at her. She keeps it from burning her, but she falls on the ground. That hurt. Zuzu hurt me!

"No lightning today? What's the matter? Afraid I'll redirect it?" He sounds angry. Why is Zuzu angry with me?

Two little voices in the back of her head tell her not to fire. One says he's her big brother, and she shouldn't hurt her big brother. Mommy wouldn't want that. The other one, one that has been getting quieter and quieter, tells her there'd be no tactical advantage. Her brother can redirect lightning, so he'd fire it back at her.

She ignores both. She tries to clear all feelings, but she can't. The lightning comes anyway, not because she's amazing or perfect. She isn't amazing; she isn't perfect. The comet merely provides her with enough power. The lightning seems to be burning through her body, her mind, and her soul. Pain. So much pain.

Then, she sees the waterbender. She's close enough to be in the courtyard. Agni Kai's are for two fighters, but that girl stepped into the courtyard. It's a technicality but a victory. Azula won by default because Zuzu had an ally step into the dueling grounds.

I don't want to hurt Zuzu now.

She fires at the girl instead.

"No!" Zuzu dives in front of the lightning bolt. He must've realized she was firing at his friend. No fair. He gets all the friends.

The lightning hits him in the chest. He redirects some of it, but not all. He convulses on the floor dying before her eyes. It's just like that moment four years ago when Daddy burnt off part of Zuzu's face.

I killed Zuzu! I KILLED ZUZU! I'm a monster! I killed him!

Witch! Water witch! You tricked me into killing Zuzu!

She chases the girl. She throws fire. She says… things. She doesn't know what the words are, only her mouth moves and sound comes out. Nothing else matters. The waterbender must die because Zuzu will die.

I'm so sorry, Zuzu! Mommy was right. I'm a monster, and I killed you!

The enemy hides behind pillars and slides on her ramps of ice. Azula chases. She won't fail. The girl stops moving under a covered walkway. Every tactical part of Azula's mind tells her to stop. That girl must be planning something. She doesn't listen. Zuzu needs to be avenged.

"There you are, filthy peasant!" She raises her hand to burn off the witch's pretty face. Then, everything becomes ice cold. She can't move.

Looking down, she sees the water below them, a small canal running under their feet. They're standing on a grated covering. The waterbender lifted the water up and froze it.

The witch melts the water around herself. She takes a chain and wraps it around Azula's hands. Then, she ties it to the floor. She chained her like a wild animal, like a monster. She melts all the ice. Azula drops to the floor.

She's alone. Zuzu's dead. Father doesn't love her. She doesn't have any friends.

Azula breathes out fire trying to burn everything like the monster she is. She tugs at the chains to free herself. It won't budge. She falls on her back. Her head smack against the stone floor, but it doesn't matter. No one loves her. I killed Zuzu.

She cries. She wails like a little girl. Mommy! Mommy! Come back! Save Zuzu! You love him, so save him. Give… Give him a kiss! That would make it feel all better. Mommy, please. Save Zuzu from me.

Through her tears, she sees two figures standing, staring at her. Zuzu? She blinks a few times. The figures come into focus.

"Zuzu!" she screams. "You're all better!"

The wound on his chest is gone! Why hasn't her tears stopped?

"Stay away from me, Zuzu! Stay away! Mommy was right. I'll hurt you again. I'm a monster!"

[User] You never Hurt Zuzu Again

[Assistant]
Azula sits in the dark room. It's scary. I'm old. I'm not supposed to fear the dark. It scares her anyway. She could light a candle or open the curtains, but the fire scares her too. What if she knocked over the candle and burnt something? What if she couldn't stop the fire from her hands?

She hears muffled voices growing louder as they walk by. Then, the voices drift father and father away. Some fear her. Others pity her. Azula just wants to be their friends. The doctors said she got better. What was it that was wrong with me? She clutches her head. Sometimes, bright lights or sharp noises hurt her head so much. It makes her want to cry, but she won't cry. Not anymore. She's a big girl now, and Mother never cried.

One day, she's going to be helpful. Zuzu has been the best older brother ever. Every week, he visited her in her special room. No one else did that. Mai saw her a few times. Ty Lee would do it most weeks. Zuzu never missed her once. It makes her feel happy. He forgave her, so she wants to help him. She wants to be a good little sister.

She remembers things about the courts. The doctors said she kept her cunning mind. Maybe Zuzu could use her as an advisor? He is such a good Fire Lord. All the kingdoms like him too because he's nice to them. For a hundred years, the Fire Nation attacked the other countries. Zuzu stopped it because he didn't want anyone else hurt.

Azula nods. Zuzu is smart, so that is a good idea. Not hurting people is good. She killed only one man in the last month after all. Just one! It made her cry, but no one can know that. She must be a big girl. He wanted to hurt Zuzu when her dum-dum was visiting her. Azula knows Mother would've protected Zuzu, so she blasted him apart with lighting. It was so scary. She didn't know she could still do that, but Zuzu said she shouldn't do it for fun. Like fire, lightning hurts people if she isn't careful, but that man wanted to kill Zuzu. She will hurt anyone who wants to hurt him.

Now, Azula decided she'll be the most careful bender ever. She doesn't want to hurt anyone, even the bad people. Still, Zuzu can never be hurt. She will do anything for him.

The door opens.

Azula smiles. "Zuzu! I missed you!"

He smiles back to her. He wears the robes of the Fire Lord and the crown too. It makes him look so strong. "You can see me any time. I told you exploring is fine if you stay with the guards."

"But…" She points outside. "What if a bad man tries to hurt me or if I lose control? I don't want to hurt anyone. Never again, but I know I will if he wants to hurt you. If I stay in here, then even the bad men are safe from me."

He extends his hand. "Wanna take a walk? Just me and you."

"Sure!"

She wraps her arm around his elbow. Together, they leave her room and walk through the palace. She waives at the people even if they look afraid. Zuzu said being nice to people is good, so she will be nice to them. She remembers all these halls. She ran down them when she was a little girl and went exploring.

He leads her to a little courtyard with a pretty pond. She stops as her mouth hangs open. She points at the pond and giggles. "Look," she whispers. "Turtle-ducks. They're babies."

She tugs at him arm as she pulls him next to the water. The babies quack and swim around their mother. Azula sits down and watches the happy family. Zuzu sits next to her.

"We're still looking for her."

Azula's shoulders slouch. "Will Mother like me?"

"Yes." He holds her hand. "You're a nice person, and you're getting better every day. You're using Mother instead of Mommy. Soon, you'll be your devious self again. I'm sure."

"I am better."

"Azula, we both know you're… a little too young still."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

The princess sees his smile and knows he isn't unhappy with her. She leans on his shoulder and watches the babies swim. Two footsteps walk to her. She turns, ready to protect Zuzu. Oh, it's Mai!

"Hi!" She waives.

Mai nods, but her attention is on the bundle of clothes in her arm. She looks so tired. They say giving birth is the hardest thing ever.

"Is that…" She points at the bundle.

Zuzu nods. "Yeah, that's our Izumi."

Azula stands up and tip-toes to Mai and her niece. She looks at the newborn's face. It's so… squishy. "Hi," she whispers. "You're going to be so happy. Zuzu might look grumpy, but he's super nice. Mai might look irked and bored, but I know she will always love you. Oh, I'm your aunt, but I want to be your friend."

Mai raises her eyebrow. "Will you drop the baby?"

"No."

Carefully, Mai places the baby in her arms. Azula acts careful, super careful. She cradles the baby in her arms. She's holding a part of Zuzu, a new and living person.

"I never thought I'd have more of a family, then Mai became my sister. Now, you became my niece. I thought babies were icky and annoying, but you're nice."

She sits back down by the turtle-duck pond. The baby sleeps soundly in her arms. "One day, I'll show you this pond and tell you about turtle-ducks. Did you know they have a mom too? Mommy turtle-ducks will do anything for her babies just like your mommy. It took me a long time to learn that about my mother. I hope you'll be smarter than me."

The baby wakes up and grumbles like Zuzu would on a bad day. Mai takes the baby from her arms, but she doesn't look angry. Instead, she walks away with the child.

Zuko sighs. "I won't ever give up on you, Azula."

She blinks. "Zu… Zuko?"

"Yeah?" His voice turns serious.

She keeps perfect eye contact.

"I'm thankful for everything you've done. I was a burnout. I gave everything to… Father." She spits out his undeserving title. "You're putting me back together, not because I'm a tool. You're doing it because I'm your sister."

He nods.

Azula looks at the sun, the undying fire. She beams as she's gifted with its warmth.

"Thanks for being my brother, you big dum-dum."


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

[User] You run for the Tram

[Assistant]
You leap onto the tram just as the doors close.

You aren't stupid--no way is this hell over with. But at least you're safe for now.

The tram slows at B Gate. Will any of them get on? You edge near the doors, ready to leap out, but none do, and the tram ambles onward.

A guy about your age, tall and skinny with a t-shirt advertising a Dropkick Murphys show from eight years ago gets on. He notices you.

Huh. Come to think of it, not many people have done that since you found the first postcard. You're no Megan Fox, but you are a reasonably attractive twenty-year-old girl, and you're used to a moderate amount of male perusal while in public. And yet, for the most part, people's eyes have been sliding past you all day. Only airport employees have acknowledged your existence. Weird.

And yet this guy sees you.

That's probably not good.

You edge a little closer to the doors. What if he's one of them? A normal college-age boy outside, a goblin inside? Maybe that's the next level of this--at first the monsters are easy to spot, and then they're in the form of fairly cute guys.

He walks up to you. "Hi."

This close he looks familiar. Familiar like a human I've seen before, or familiar like a goblin?

"I think we went to camp together."

His eyes are a yellow-striped green--what color were theirs? You can't remember. You were too panicked to notice.

"Guess not," he says. You must look pretty freaked out, because he starts backing away.

And then his face clicks into place. Triple R Ranch. Summer before fourth grade. His name is Dmitri, and the reason you still know that is that he was almost your first kiss. (Instead it was this loser named Jason in sixth grade. He told everyone you tasted like bubble gum--which doesn't seem that bad, but somehow he made it sound absolutely disgusting. What a prick.)

"Wait," you say. "Dmitri, right?"

"Yeah. You're Claire."

"Clara, actually. That's my real name." You like Claire better, but it was too hard to keep telling everyone to call you Claire. They kept forgetting, and finally you just gave up and went with it.

He asks where you're going, and you tell him. He says he's going to Philadelphia to spend Christmas with his dad--he's headed to the same terminal you are.

His eyes move over you, but not in a flirtatious way. "Are you okay?"

You look down. You are sweating profusely. "It's been...a stressful trip," you finish lamely.

"How so?"

He seems to know there's a deeper meaning--which isn't itself strange, Dmitri has always been able to read people pretty well--but you can't shake the feeling that running into him is a little too coincidental. Should you trust him enough to tell him you're being stalked, or just politely brush him 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 scream

[Assistant]
You scream as the Alpha's jaws fly forward, biting deep into your arm. You yell in pain as the werewolf bites into your arm, as a flood of emotions enters you. Hate. Anger. Passion. Adrenaline Hunger. You yell, no, you roar as you feel your body morph.Your body begins to twist and break. Your bones snap as your limbs stretch wider and your head and body grows. Your face is torn apart as his teeth grow and sharpen past their usual point. Hair sprouts from your body, soon, you find yourself lying on the ground, feeling the animal inside you finally unleashed. You look at the moon ecstatically, letting out a howl, which is soon joined by your new family. The Alpha looks at you and growls, and you bow your head in submission, an act that just feels natural. The Alpha blinks slowly at you, and you understand that its time to hunt, and finish Mihrab off.

You turn, sniffing the air. It's like you just know where to go. You sprint forward, running along the walls and smashing through oak doors. You find Mihrab, covered in blood from what you presume was a fight with a werewolf, hurrying towards the sacrificial chambers. He stops in terror as he stares at you, his eyes widening.

"So, you joined with the dogs, did you? Pathetic," he snarls.

You burst forward as he does the same. His claws painfully scrape along your snout and release a wave of blood and adrenaline as you smash your claw into him, knocking him against the wall. You bite down on his throat with a roar, tearing it clean out as you smash your claws into him. You turn, seeing a werewolf staring, half ready to charge and half ready to run. You burst forward, tearing its head off and tossing it down the hall, before bursting forward again. You... "feel" a presence in the shadows, twisting around and pouncing, pinning Alexa against a wall.

"You're either much, much more intelligent than I thought, or much less so," she says.

You feel pain run through your chest as she jabs a silver dagger into your chest. You howl, tearing it out as pain runs through you.

"Sorry, wolfy," she says, falling back against the walls, letting the shadows absorb her.

You snarl, before turning to be faced with the Alpha. You stare at it, as it sniffs the air and slowly approaches you. It's eyes are filled with a deep desire, a desperate hunger. You sniff the air, suddenly becoming aware of many new sensations. The Alpha seems to be... in full bloom. A sniff quickly fills your nostrils with the scent of a beast in heat. It seems the creature is more of an Alpha female.

The creature steps towards you, her intentions clear. The human part of you looks at disgust at the beast, wanting to spit and turn away. For better or worse, that's not the part in charge of you. The animal inside you only smells the odor of a horny bitch in heat. You step forward, your animalistic side taking over as you leap on her.

Needless to say, you get little sleep under the gaze of the crimson moon.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
You awake lying on the cold stone, completely naked and with a severe headache. For a second, you feel cold, confused and scared, like a child hiding as Papa stands by the door with his rifle, waiting for Count Grey to arrive. You reach an arm out, finding a warm body and pulling yourself tightly against it, as memories begin to flood into your mind.

As you realize where you are your eyes dart open. You look around frantically, seeing the white-haired girl lying next to you, blood and... other fluids covering her, and you as well. She yawns, looking up at you. She slowly gets to her feet, groaning.

"Well?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Nothing," you reply, as she smiles.

"You did well last night," she says.

"Two dead vampires? Yeah, not bad," you say.

"I was talking about the fucking," the Alpha replies.

You look around, spotting other naked men and women lying on the ground, all in the process of waking up.

"There's clothes stashed away nearby. You need a place to stay?" the Alpha asks.

"Yeah," you say.

"Done. Daustin owns a mechanics shop, and had hired Godfrey as an assistant. Seeing as Godrey was cut apart by the vampires, you can take his place."

"Perfect," you reply.

"Don't worry. You're part of the pack now. We look out for each other."

The Alpha leans in, pushing you against the wall and kissing you. You push her away, as she raises an eyebrow.

"What? Was it only the beast within that wanted to fuck me?" she asks.

You grab her, kissing her back, before she pulls away.

"We should go. We need to be home before we're found. If the villagers spot a bunch of naked people returning from where they just saw werewolves kill a bunch of their friends, they'll put two and two together."

She turns, barking out an order for her pack to follow her as she leads them outside of the castle. You follow, walking after them.

Now, you're part of a pack. Now, the beast within in you has been released, and you're only barely to keep it contained with the moon gone.

You can't wait for the moon to call it out again.


[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 try and reason with him

[Assistant]
You continue to yell at the man, determined to get through to him. When he finally reaches you he grabs ahold of you and gives you a heartfelt hug. It seems you finally got through to him.

Wait...no....no that's not a hug! The man grabs a hold of you and proceeds to bite your neck, ripping out the flesh from it. You fall to the floor and bleed out. Good thing you bleed out quickly, being eaten alive sure is painful.

[Death]


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

[User] You try to find a way around

[Assistant]
Heeding the warning of the sign, you decide to change direction. You look on the map and find an alternate route. You'll be able to loop around and rejoin I-5 after some time.

As you drive, you begin to notice something is very wrong. You expected to be out of range of whoever the 'Followers' are, but graffiti and roadblocks suggest otherwise. Zombies have been staked to the ground on the side of the road. garbage cans have been laid out to block the roads, and a few of them have fires going in them.

"We need to turn around," you say. Nobody objects, so you throw the car in reverse. You back into the grass, and turn around so that you can pick a different route. But, when you turn, you see a man walk out into the middle of the road. He has something in his hands, but you can't tell what it is. It looks like a bat, or an axe. Suddenly, you see a car driving up the road toward you.

By this time, you realize the mistake you made. You try to turn around to see if you can get out of the backroads, and away from these people. You end up knocking over some trash cans and putting dents in the car, but that's currently the least of your worries. You start to see that forks in the road have been blocked off completely. They're herding you in a certain direction. With the roadblocks, the zombies, and the car behind you, you have nowhere to go.

You have no choice but to follow the intended path for you. You eventually end up in a section of the road that's walled off completely. When you stop, the car behind you stops, blocking you in. A group of people approaches the car from behind roadblocks and trees. Every single one of them is armed with either a gun or a large melee weapon. One man, who is bald and wearing a blood-soaked apron, walks up to your car. He clutches a metal bar in his meaty fist.

"Knock, knock, knock," he says, hitting the top of your car with every word. "Come on out, so we can see our kill." You freeze with fear. The man leans down into the window. "Get out of the car," he says. You slowly open the door, and the man steps aside to let you out. When the four of you are out of the car, The man addresses all of you.

"So," he starts, "Apparently you didn't pay attention to our little warning. This is our turf, and anyone who enters our turf, becomes our property. You four, and everything you have, is ours now. I'm gonna need the keys to your car, and then I'm gonna need you all to step aside, so I can escort you away."

Mikey is the first to act. He gets back in the car, and comes up a moment later with a gun. He points it at the bald man. "Leave us alone," he says.

The man laughs. "Silly boy. Young kids like you shouldn't play with guns," he says. He snaps his fingers, and a small group of men from the crowd steps forward. They rip the gun out of Mikey's hands, and pull him out of view.

"Hey," you say. "Listen, I'm sorry we trespassed, but I don't want any trouble. Please, please, just let us pass. We don't want to bother or hurt anyone. We just have somewhere to be. Can't you-"

The man cuts you off by hitting you in the head with his metal bar. "Fool! Stop trying to plead your case! I told you how it's gonna be! We get your stuff, and you're gonna die!"

[User] You attack him

[Assistant]
Without hesitation, you jump out at the man. You grab the bar and hold it against his neck, choking him. Behind you, you hear the others leap into action.

"I told you," you say, "Just let us go. But you wouldn't listen. Now we have to-"

You are suddenly pulled off of the man and stabbed in the side. You shriek in pain, and your attacker drops you onto the road. "I tried to tell you," the man says. "But you just wouldn't listen." The man brings the bar down onto your head, caving your skull in.


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
As the words leave your lips you feel Catia's mood shift. She seems more hostile saying,

"Do you not find me attractive or something? I don't have time to talk and have many more people to see after you. Let's focus on the now shall we? Take of your clothes."

[User] You refuse

[Assistant]
"I will be doing no such thing," you say in protest.

Catia raises her eyebrow before breaking out in laughter.

"Well this is a first," she says.

You stare at her as she seems to be deciding whether she'll force you to remove your clothes. You feel the sweat drip down your back when she finally says,

"Maybe I really deserved to be sent here. I can't even manipulate a human into having sex with me."

A black cloud appears as she disappears from your room. You start violently coughing but don't pass out this time. It's not like it matters, you need to sleep anyway. You put out your candles and fall into bed. You focus on your breathing as you drift off to sleep. Best to reflect on what happens when you have a clearer mind.

You wake up with a throbbing pain in your head. The light coming from your window floods your mind with intense pain. Guess you drunk more last night than you thought. You decide its best to make yourself some food and drink to clear your head. You grab water and a slice of peach pie you made a few days ago. You scarf the food down and shallow the water in huge gulps. Your head should start feeling better within the next few hours.

Except it doesn't, you lie in bed with constant tension on your head. It's like someone is squeezing your brain with both hands, but not hard enough to cause physical harm. Something unnatural is going on and you know it. Hangovers should get better after rest, not worse. It's hard to focus on anything but the pain. You try remembering what Catia did before she left. She dispelled a black cloud which didn't knock you out. Is it possible this was a curse?

The more you think about it, the more it makes sense. While she tried not to show it, she was upset you resisted her temptation. She wanted you to pay for hurting her ego. That bitch! As you think about her more, tension is released from your skull. In fact, you're able to think about her in vivid detail and feel headache free. Although, the second you stop thinking about her the pain comes rushing back. This certainly isn't good.

You're going to have to do something about this. There is one obvious solution which is trying to contact Catia and having her remove the curse. Though who knows if she'll even remove it, assuming she still wants to visit you. The other option is going to a local witch doctor and having them remove the curse. Although, you've heard they've been busy since demons first started being sighted. Maybe the curse is temporary, why not wait it out?

[User] You call for Catia

[Assistant]
You can barely move, so you know you're in a susceptible state. The question is, does she still want to see you?

"Catia," you whisper.

You wait a few tense seconds and feel the pain in your head begin to relieve itself. But then, nothing. She never comes and the pain comes rushing back. You find tears streaming down your face as you realize your chances with Catia are probably over. You're also in no state to continue working as a guard and will probably be fired soon. The only thing you can do is lay in bed and suffer.

Days past and your state of mind only gets worse. You begin seeing shadowy figures at the corner of your eyes. One day you manage to touch one and ask,

"Who are you?"

He laughs and laughs before disappearing. This isn't the most psychologically scaring part of this ordeal. Your recurring nightmares are much worse. You dream of your family returning home in vivid detail, only for it to all come crashing down as you realize they're not real. You stop eating and drink only when necessary. It gets to a point where you know if you don't try to seek help you will die.

You have no idea where to go for help, especially since the local witch doctor has been arrested for using humans as potion ingredients. You wander aimlessly taking morning walks in a vain attempt to find your savior. Shadowy figures whisper about you as you walk past.

"There's nothing out here, return home"

"You're never going to get better, why not end it?"

You've been seeing these shadowy figures more frequently recently. You chalk this up to your lack of sleep. Sleeping is when your most vulnerable, so you try to do as little of it as you can.

During a morning walk you run into a familiar face. It's your childhood friend Julia. You haven't seen her since schooling and boy does she look different.

"Is that…" she says

"Yeah it's me," you reply

"Boy do you look different."

You haven't been grooming yourself since the madness occurred. You have lots of dark circles under your eyes and probably don't smell too good either.

"You also look different."

She raises an eyebrow not knowing if your complementing or insulting her.

"In a good way in a good way!" you clarify.

She laughs as her dress flows in the wind.

"Sorry I can't say the same to you. Down on your luck?"

"That's putting it lightly," you say jokingly, even though it's the truth.

"Hahah I bet. I was just about to get some coffee, wanna come with?"

"Would I ever! Is it ok if the shadow people follow along?"

"The what?"

"Never mind."

Later

Julia and you decided to go to the Cinnamon Pearl Cafe. As fancy as it may seem, its nothing more than a place to eat pastries and drink coffee. She begins telling you what's she's been doing lately.

"You know Andy right?"

"Of course, me and him have been on guard duty together a couple times."

Julia bites her lips and chooses her words carefully,

"Well we broke up recently due to the fact that he...he...raped me..."

You're shocked at this revelation, Andy has always seemed like a standup guy.

"How could he do such a thing?"

"He's a piece of shit that's how!"

Your lower your head as she composes herself.

"Sorry, I'm just not in the best mental space right now."

"No need to apologize, you have every right to be angry."

"Thank you."

"So tell me, what happened?"

She explains how one night, after a long tiring day working as a cleaner, Andy wanted sex. They had been dating for a few months and had yet to have sex. The conversation went a little like this,

"All of my other friends constantly brag about sex. If I keep telling them I haven't fucked you yet they might start thinking I'm gay," says Andy.

"Stop pressuring me! I told you, I am not in the mood and am not ready to pursue that kind of relationship with you."

"You're such a bitch, you know that right? Fuck you make me angry," Andy says while walking towards Julia menacingly.

"Back off, get away from me!"

Julia stops talking and begins to choke up. She covers her face with her hands and says shakily,

"He grabbed me and wouldn't let go. I tried to scream but he covered my mouth and clenched my throat. He violated me and nobody cares to do anything about it. Everyone's to focused on the damn demons to give a shit about poor ol' me."

"That's horrible, who else have you told?"

"Just you and the captain of the fucking guards. He wouldn't even fire him, saying the demand for guards is 'very high' right now. No guard is better than a guards that's a mother fucking rapist."

"I wish I could help, but the captain probably won't listen to me anymore. I haven't shown up for work in days and didn't give any notice."

"It's ok, I don't want the captain's help anyways. I need to move on and be strong."

You make small talk about various things before saying your goodbyes. With Julia in such a vulnerable state, you wonder if it's best to give her time to heal. At the same time, you long for human relationship. The shadow figures just aren't the same as real human contact.

[User] You give her time to heal

[Assistant]
You decide it's best to give it time before pursuing a relationship. Not just for her, but you as well. You figure you'll stop seeing shadow people sooner than later and be in a better headspace. A few days go by and the shadowy figures start to appear in the corner of your eyes. You're starting to regret your decision of not pursing Julia but they reassure you.

"You're better of without her."

"Why have friends when you have us?"

And a particularly rude one says,

"She's much better off without you in her life."

You stop your morning walks and live a hermit lifestyle. You start eating bugs off the ground as you've long since ran out of food. This is no way to live your life and you know it. In a moment of clarity you sprint out of the house and run to "The Devil's Cliff". You jump off laughing as you've hit rock bottom in life and now in death.


[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 mostly food

[Assistant]
"Pack more food," you say. "Food is more important than guns." Conway nods. You empty the food stash into the duffel bag. "Come on," Conway says once the bag is full. "Through the backstreets."

You can immediately tell what the others were talking about. Where the streets used to be empty (of zombies, not of cars), there are now vast hordes. They aren't moving in any direction, or at all for that matter. They just bump into each other and walk in circles. You and Conway elect to stay off the roads, and slip between buildings.

Meanwhile, Conway keeps a conversation going with the other soldier. Through garbled radio speech, you hear him tell you what's going on. The dead are mostly avoiding the museum, which is why that's their pick-up spot.

You're sneaking past a rogue group of zed when the radio suddenly emits a loud burst of static. The group slowly turns their heads, and they growl at a potential food source. "Oh, please no," Conway whispers. The dead slowly hobble over to where you're advancing. You don't know whether to keep sneaking or lash out, but Conway makes that decision for you. Whipping out his knife, he takes the top half the the closest zombie's skull off with one sweep.

You draw your knife, and take care of a few of the others. After the horde is cleared, Conway switches off the walkie talkie. "Not gonna go through that again."

You slowly progress through the city amongst the waves of walkers. Eventually, the museum is in sight. You're surprised to see an actual helicopter guarded by a handful of soldiers. Conway switches the walkie talkie back on.

"We can see you, over."

Tchhhhhh....okay, that's good......These hordes are getting worse....no way you're gonna make it through here.....we can provide covering fire......run for it......

You look at Conway, and nod. The soldiers reveal several guns, and start firing on the group of zombies. Taking the chance, you follow Conway through the gunfire. A few zombies attempt to follow you, but you're moving too fast for them. When you get past the hordes, the soldiers wave to you and open the helicopter doors. "GET IN!"

You climb into the helicopter after Conway, with a sea of rotting flesh at your heels. You slam the door shut, and hear the helicopter blades whir to life. "Come on! Let's get this bird off the ground!" shouts one of the soldiers. The helicopter slowly lifts off the ground, with a few zombies holding on for dear life to the bottom. They slip free once you're airborne.


[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 fire Wendy

[Assistant]
It's a risky gamble, but you feel you have no choice.

"Alright fine, you're fired." You say after taking a deep breath.

"Ha ha ha ha! Yeah right." Wendy laughs.

"I'm not joking, you're fired and you can pack your bags and get the hell out of my inn too."

"Wait a minute!"

"No, you've made it quite clear you don't respect my generosity and are just taking advantage of it. I'd expect this sort of behavior from Rita, but I thought better of you."

"…you can't fire me! You need me! " Wendy sputters.

"It's done. You're gone. And while you may be right that I do need you, I don't need your bratty kids. Especially one that's setting my other employees on fucking fire."

You begin to leave the kitchen and Wendy grabs your arm.

"Alright, alright! Shit. You win. I can't afford to lose my job and a free place on top of everything right now. I'll do something about my kids. (Sigh) I just hope I can do something about Henry. I'm not sure anything is going to help. I have to admit, I'm not looking forward to him when he becomes a teenager."

"Well, have you thought about sending him away?"

"I wish. I don't have that sort of money to send him to some boys school, besides he'd probably get kicked out within a week."

"No, there's a program that the city militia has been trying to promote lately. It's basically like boot camp for juvenile delinquents. They say it has good results in turning them around." You suggest.

"Well I'd try anything I suppose, but doesn't that cost money as well?"

"No, basically you go down to the local militia guard station and sign your kid up, then at sometime in the middle of the night they take him away for a year."

"Wow, sounds pretty extreme, but if it's free hell I'll try it."

The next few days are slightly quieter. Wendy has obviously laid down the law once again to them, but it won't last. You really hope she goes through with your suggestion because as much as you are perfectly willing to go through with your threat, you also know it would ruin your own goals.

Later that night, heavy banging on your inn's front door and yelling wakes you up.

"This is the Klyton Militia open up at once! We have important business here!"

You smile and head downstairs to open the door, but you find that Wendy has already done it. When they take him away, he doesn't cry or even protest. He allows himself to go quietly, which makes you believe that you made the right decision in pushing Wendy in this direction. You have your doubts if the militia program will help him, but he's out of your life now and that's what is important.

The best thing is, this event scared Wendy's other two kids so much that they straighten up so as not to suffer the same fate.

Time passes and everything seems to be going well until one day when you get another visit from the Klyton militia who storm in the same way they did when they took away Henry.

"You the owner of this establishment?" the sergeant asks.

"Yeah?" you answer groggily

"You're under arrest for serving illegal substances."

"What?! I don't sell drugs here!"

"You're selling homemade booze ain't cha? Clearly you're violating alcohol law 3.6721. Gibbs! Check the basement, that's where it's supposed to be!"

You're put into manacles and sputter in disbelief at all this. You were careful! Who could've ratted you out? None of you patrons would've cared given that they drink here. Even your ex-patrons just left due to the alcohol not tasting as good to them, they would've have bothered. Your staff? If this place goes down, then they all lose their jobs and if anything you've made strides in making things easier for them…shit.

You know now.

It's Henry. That little bastard must've told all about this place. Whether he did it out of spite for you or his mom or if they really rehabilitated him and he felt it was his "duty" to rat you out hardly matters, you're fucked.

"Found them sir. There's a whole bunch of stills in the basement, along with some retard who seemed confused." Gibbs reports.

"Ugh, you keep retarded sex slaves in this place too? What the hell are you running here?!" the sergeant says jumping to conclusions.

"Sex slaves? He's the fucking janitor!" you protest.

"Save it you sicko! You're coming with us!"

As you're taken away you shout to Wendy who is standing by watching all this, to get the money from the safe to bail you out.

Eventually you're brought up on charges of distribution of illegal substances, posing a health risk to the populous, exploitation of the mentally incompetent and tax evasion. Guess which one you got in the most trouble?

You spend almost all your money on a lawyer, and your inn is taken away by the city, along with your dreams of going into medicine. After all is said and done you've lost everything and are completely broke. The only good thing is the city decided that your inn would cover the cost of all the alcohol taxes you weren't paying due to making your own so you didn't serve any jail time.

It's of minor consolation though, you're still left with nothing and don't have much future prospects. You wish you'd listened to your mother and you think about going to Teckleville to apologize to her in person, but you can't bring yourself to even face her.

You do eventually get another job as a boring assistant clerk. It's a mind numbing tedious job that does nothing for your mental well-being. After years of this drudge you hang yourself still lamenting about where you went wrong with the inn.


[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 say "We sneak in to talk to him like last time."

[Assistant]
The next night finds you raiding Cassamento's manor.

Huntress will take one path through the front; you'll take the back, through the hedge maze and into the manor proper. The two of you will meet up at Cassamento's study after you've snuck past all the guards in your path.

Guards patrol the hedge maze, presumably so they can make sure no one is trying to sneak through it, like you currently are. You've got to be quiet, alerting them will just mean bad things.

[User] You dart quickly away from guards when you see them, tread quietly otherwise.

[Assistant]
This works well for a bit; that is, until you actually come across a guard. You accidentally step on a twig when darting away from one, he hears you and quickly turns around, finding you frozen like a deer in headlights. A quick burst from his rifle sends you into unending blackness.

You're Dead!


[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 turn away and worry about yourself instead

[Assistant]
You can't risk saving her. Who knows if you will succeed? Guiltily, you turn your eyes away from the scene. You don't want to see the results of your inaction. The opportunity has now passed, and may never be seized again. She isn't going to make it in time –

"Fprcf!"

A shrill cry erupts from the other end of the airship. The mast shudders as an invisible force slams to it, snapping it further at an awkward angle. You watch in amazement as the fractured beam crashes through the deck barely a metre away from the captain. She's alive.

You turn your head to see Mother Ghared frozen in position, her hands outstretched towards the fallen mast. Your knowledge of her abilities is still limited, but you understand that she has saved the captain's life. The captain waste no time moving away from the fallen mast and is already on her feet, struggling to defend herself from another group of mutants.

Before you can move, you see Mother Ghared slump to the ground. She seems exhausted by the effort of stopping the heavy mast, and the energy drain is too much for her. You start to force yourself to your feet, knowing that time is of the essence. She needs help, and fast.

That's when you hear the violent splintering sound below you.

Fearing the worst, you see that the heavy mast has in fact torn straight through the centre of the airship. It is in no condition to fly. The vessel has already been damaged by the attacks of the mutants, and you can only watch in horror as more and more cracks appear, joining together as one…

The airship breaks apart down the middle.

You see the mutants react with surprise as they start to plummet along with their half of the ship. Surprisingly enough, they can no longer fly. You're not quite sure why, but you have a feeling that their wings from before were only temporary. In addition...part of the airship somehow remains airborne. You're not in a position to question the laws of aerodynamics right now, but you need to act fast.

Your half of the airship is currently airborne and in no danger of falling – or so you hope. The captain is next to you, slumped in a heap. The other half of the ship is about to plummet downwards, and you realise that Mother Ghared is still on that side. She's unconscious and has no idea of what has happened.

You have a split second to decide whether to cross over the gap to Mother Ghared, or stay here with the captain. You have no idea what condition either person is in.


[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 break off into the woods with Wyatt

[Assistant]
"Run! Run now, Wyatt!" you scream,

You sprint, running as fast as you can, your lungs burning, but it's not enough. Seconds later, a force like a truck smashes into your back, sending you crumpling to the floor with your legs shattering from the impact. You scream as the Albino lands atop your legs, sending pain racing through your body as you spasm. The creature looks down at you, growling.

"Fuck you," you spit, hoping some part of the Albino understands you.

The Albino's head snaps down, tearing out your throat, before binding off after Wyatt. You lie there on the ground, drowning in your own blood, as death slowly takes you.


[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 incite a revolt

[Assistant]
You don't give a shit if it kills you, you're not going to just stand by and let these fucktards treat you like their bitch. You immediately begin to make plans.

You start off just by getting a feel of the general opinion of the Guard, by others. So far, there isn't a lot opinion one way or another. They feel safer, but much like you they have suffered the liberties taken by the Guard. Eventually you do find a few people that outright don't like them, and you capitalize on that by having those people to "recruit" and influence others.

After a few months you've managed to form somewhat of a real underground movement. The next steps are taken which involves out right sneak attacks on Guard soldiers and taking their weapons. This is when the Guard begins to take real notice of the Dust Dissident Movement and begins becoming more restrictive. This of course ends up working in your favor as now even those that had no previous problem with the Guard begin openly complaining. In the meantime you change locations all the time just barely keeping one step ahead of the Guard.

A year passes and the entire Dust District is in as much chaos as it was right after the bombs first hit. The Zeropolis Guard is fighting a losing war with the Shadow Horde as well as trying to put down an on going insurrection. You love it. Everyday more of them die and are unable to replace their losses, eventually Captain Salazar himself is assassinated by one of your own people breaking the hold and morale of the Zeropolis Guard. The survivors end up leaving and scattering to unknown parts of the City.

You've won, but it is a Pyrrhic victory.

Without the Guard keeping order and routine protection, the Shadow Horde moves in at full force. They begin to stalk the streets at night and breaking into homes to slaughter its inhabitants.

The Dust Dissident Movement attempts to take up the mantle of protectors, but the Shadow Horde is a different type of enemy, they don't try to occupy; they come in and destroy. Hit and run tactics are useless against an enemy that does the same thing and does it a whole lot better as you unfortunately come to find out when you're meeting with your remaining people one night and a bunch of Horde members swarm your hideout and kill everyone inside.


[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 tell her that Butch has been cheating on her again

[Assistant]
You suddenly realize that with your sister gone, you'll be the only one there to face Mom. Even you sense that isn't a good thing. Maybe underneath all your automaton type behavior you do have a certain sense of self-preservation. If anything you're concerned about the changes that your sister leaving might bring, and even though you might not show it, you fear change.

You tell your sister about Butch, she gets upset, but isn't really surprised. She'll probably break up with him, only to get back with him later. But for now its enough to convince her not to go move in with him. The status quo is kept in check.

Home life continues as normal, your Mom yells at your sister and she yells back. There's something that is reassuring about that familiarity.

Another day arrives and you feel comfortably numb...


[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 won't be denied! Not when you're THIS close to paradise!

[Assistant]
You think and wish and concentrate and all that other shit like you've never done before!

And congratu-fuckin'-lations, you just knocked yourself fuckin' unconscious you wacky fucktard!

You're not out for long though and when you come to, you hear a voice say to you…

"Are you alright?"

You rub your eyes. Can it be? IT IS! IT FUCKIN' IS! IT'S SHE-HULK! In all her green Amazonian glory!

You knew it! You knew if you worked for it hard enough, and wanted it bad enough, dreams really can come true!

She-Hulk looks at you smiling, and helps you up. She wants you, you KNOW it. You were meant to be together! And this your big chance to hit that sweet green pussy!

You briefly think about talking with her to get to know her a little better…

Talk? What's to talk about? You already know everything about her from the comics you read! No you gotta be a man of action! That's what got her to come to life in the first place. You kiss She-Hulk.

She kisses you back! You were half expecting her to clean your clock, but with the way things are going it looks like she's gonna be sucking you cock!

This fuckin' rules!

You and She-Hulk express your mutual love for each other in a physical way. She does things to you that you haven't even had wet dreams about! (And you've had a lot of them) What surprises you the most is that's she's a gentle lover, which makes this not only physical attraction, but an emotional and even spiritual one as well. You are truly in heaven…

At least until your Mom walks in on you!

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" she screams.

You suddenly realize you haven't been fucking She-Hulk at all. You've been ramming your dick into your poster of her on the wall the entire time you crazy fucker! You've ruined your poster, you've ruined your wall, you've ruined your dick and you've ruined your life! (Okay so your life was already ruined to begin with, but I was on a roll)

You dumb motherfucker, all the wishing in the world ain't gonna make that green mutant come to life! (And like she would want YOU even if she was real!)

Your Mom has you committed (And who could blame her) You spend years in therapy trying to get over your obsession for She-Hulk, eventually your love goes away. It's not easy, but the doctors manage to help you kick the green goddess by giving you other comics to read. In time you soon forget all about She-Hulk and don't know what you ever saw in her, as you read your other comics.

You should've been focusing more on Wonder Woman!
Now she's REALLY hot!

Hey maybe if you wish REAL hard…


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
Eternal Mother

The Future…

It's a harsh world.

"Number 660."

Possibly more than your old one was, but you eventually learned how to deal with it. You even managed to make a proper life for yourself here despite all the trials and tribulations.

You remember how hard that first year with Jack was. Struggling to survive, learning how to hunt, dealing with the elements, dealing with unfriendly people and creatures, and generally just being a "modern" person who didn't have too many survival skills to speak of and being thrust into a primitive environment.

You think learning the language was the most difficult part. Jack was always a little better at it than you were. You probably still sound like a retard to some folks, but it gets the job done.

"Number 661."

During those early years you also ended up having to do a few things you never took pleasure in doing, but it was always it was always for survival.

In those instances you were always a little better at that. Jack would definitely always support you, but then he loved you very much and would have followed you into the Gates of Hell.

You suppose it did get to a point where rationalizations really didn't excuse what you did, but then you don't think you ever cared about those anyway. You were a woman who was willingly dating a human sacrificing cultist at one time after all.

You smile upon thinking about your old flame. You think Bobby would have fit in very well in this world.

Maybe to some extent, you did too.

"Number 662."

You think for a while you might have gotten a little colder and ruthless. Seemed like this was a place where the strong ruled over the weak and fuck you if you couldn't keep up. From what you could tell people here had three choices:

Beg and hope their tormenters took mercy on them, which was almost never likely.

Die and just roll over to accept death because it was preferable to keep living in this shitty world.

Or struggle and fight tooth and nail for what little you actually did have. And in that case you either won or kept it, or you died and lost it.

You know which one you chose.

"Number 663."

Things did change a little though when you had your first child. You never planned on ever having a family before, let alone one in a world like this one since it seemed more like a punishment than a blessing…but Jack always had a way of making you see the positive.

You loved him for that.

Another child followed and for a while it seemed like everything was going well. You had a loving family, a larger dwelling; you weren't struggling to survive any more. You even had another baby on the way and you didn't even mind it.

Hell, you probably achieved quite a bit for a pair of former basement dwellers.

You were starting almost feel "normal" or as normal as you could ever be or get in a place like this.

And then just like everything in your life, it all eventually went to shit.

"Number 664."

While the occasional wandering ogres were certainly dangerous, they tended to stick a little further north. Other than that dead ogre you saw the first time you came here, you fortunately never encountered one in person again. The freedom fighting elves gave grief to the government, but never really made raids on civilian settlements. Indeed they tended to stay hidden.

The barbarian tribes however were always an ongoing problem in Rask, but you always figured you were far enough away from them and you knew there was at least an Empire Fort in the area they would attack first before moving deeper into more "civilized" territory.

Of course the Empire has always had a hard time maintaining order in this place. You suppose that was one of the upsides of living here, you didn't need to deal with the oppressive seemingly monolithic government that controls a vast amount of land here.

But it was also a downside as you would soon experience one dreadful day and the fact it all happened in broad daylight does make it seem all the more horrible.

A small group of seven barbarians from the Wendigo tribe suddenly attacked, possibly the most vicious of all the tribes in fact. They attacked without warning and so fast, that your two children were dead before you or Jack could even spur into action.

While you and Jack had long been experienced in combat during your time here, you and he were no match for them or their numbers. Especially in your condition at the time.

You sometimes wonder if a baby hadn't burdened you, you would have been able to at least save Jack.

"Number 665."

Before he tried to hold them off to give you time to run, you remember Jack's last words to you;

Go. Our child needs to survive. YOU need to survive.

You almost didn't want to. You almost wanted to meet death right there with him, but you think two things stopped you.

One, your will to survive has always been stronger than your defeatism.

And two, you loved Jack enough to honor his last request.

You remember when you managed to get far enough away to the safety of a town; you broke down in tears and cried over him for at least a couple days. You still do sometimes. You miss him so much.

Your eyes tear up a bit upon thinking about Jack and then you hear your number being called out. It's time to do this.

Maybe you could look after this child, but it would be a struggle. A struggle you just can't do. Part of you feels like you're going back to your "old ways" by taking the easy way out, but you haven't come to this conclusion lightly.

You stand up and make your way to the front of the long waiting room. A tired looking clerk behind a counter looks at you and the bundle you're carrying.

"Name?" she asks.
"Suzy McCray." You answer.
"And I take it that this is the baby you wish to put into the care of the Empire?"
"…Yes…"
"Very well. Sign this, and you'll receive your payment."
"I don't want payment." You say which causes a very confused look on the clerk's face.
"Don't want payment? Well that's a first. We got some people here all the time bringing in babies. Probably stealing them in fact, but at least it's better than those dark elves do."
"Well I don't want payment."
"Well I'm sorry, but that's sort of a law. You have to take something."
"Can't you just make sure that he'll be given a good home?"
"I can't make that promise, I don't even do that process! I'm just a damn underpaid government drone. If you're so damn concerned about him, why the hell are you giving him away?"

Just as you're about to yell at the clerk, another woman walks over. She has long white hair and very dark skin. She's very pretty. You wonder if this one of those svelk you've heard about.

"Frieda, what's got you all flustered and generally acting like a typical monkey as usual?" she asks.
"Huh? What the hell are you doing here? You slumming or something? Shouldn't you living the good life in the Emperor's Palace like my high and mighty brother?"
"Jealousy is a terrible thing Frieda especially when I've spoken to Jacob on more occasions than I'd care to and I can honestly say you have nothing to be jealous about… but then neither would he. However, for your information I'm here on official business."
"Hrm. Well good for you, now let me get back to my fucking job."

At this point you intervene.

"Look can we please get back to me?"

Just as the clerk is about to say something. The svelk woman speaks out again.

"Frieda. You're obviously burned out, why don't you let me take over for awhile?"
"You? Working a lowly job like this?"
"Sure, I'm no stranger in performing tasks nobody likes to do."
"Fine by me. I'm going on a LONG break." She says and storms off leaving you and the svelk woman to talk.

She smiles at you in an attempt to be friendly, but right now you just want this to be over with and you're starting to think this was a bad idea.

"Don't pay any attention to her, I'm sure you have a very good reason for giving your child to the care of the Empire." The svelk says.
"I don't want to, you know." You say.
"I believe you. I don't think any mother truly ever wants to give up their child, but if I may ask, why are you doing it?"
"It's just…(sniffle) I lost my husband and other children in a Wendigo raid and I barely have anything left. (sniffle) I can't take care of him the way I want to. I mean maybe I could try, but I just don't have the energy left in me to do it. I don't have the drive and if I do a half assed job of it and something happens to him because I can't do my fucking job, then I'm even shittier mother than I thought. I can't take another loss in my life." You say trying to keep it together.

The svelk woman nods.

"I see. I think I understand. So what is it that you were exactly arguing about before? I heard something about not wanting payment."
"I don't, I'm not selling my baby for financial gain, I'll be fine. I'm giving him to the Empire because I'm hoping there is an off chance that the fucking government will do a better job at raising him or finding someone to raise him than I can because I'm too emotionally drained to do it any more." You say.
"Well, I hate to destroy your hope, but many of the children put in the care of the Empire aren't exactly that much better off. In fact in some cases they might be worse and as for getting someone to adopt, well it's a possibility a good family will, but usually they're just passed off to anyone."
"Great. So this has all been a waste of fucking time. Nice to know the Empire is fucking incompetent as well as being oppressive."

To your surprise the svelk woman laughs a little.

"You speak your mind. I like that. Hmm. Well, tell you what I CAN put him in the special E Wing."
"What's that?"
"Oh just a place where they often put unwanted babies from higher born families. Bastard children spawned by lust that would create social embarrassments, that sort of thing. Typically these children are very well looked after and special care is gone to make sure they aren't going to sweat shop owners or something equally hideous."
"And he would get a good home?"
"Well maybe, I should inform you though that it's still rare and if not adopted within a certain period of time the Empire still raises them directly. These children are typically raised to be officers and commanders in the military. Their training is severe, but the results create very well disciplined and skilled men and women…are you okay with your child possibly being given that sort of life?"

You look down at your baby. He's been very quiet throughout all this. Hasn't cried once. Never been much of a crier really. It's odd. You begin to think about how harsh this world is, and maybe it would be best if your baby got that sort of life. At least he would be better able to survive this world. Much better odds than you can provide.

You begin to sniffle and cry. You nod.

"Okay (sob) okay. Do it. It's a better life than I can ever give him now. (sob)"
"Very well. Let me have him."

You reluctantly pass your baby to the svelk woman who smiles as she holds him.

"I'm usually not fond of the way human babies look, but I have to admit, this one is sort of cute. What's his name?"
"Name? Oh…yes. Well his name was the same as his father's middle name." you say and tell her your baby's name.
"Hrm. Strange name, but then I've always found human names a bit weird."
"Do I need to sign anything?"
"Nah, I'll take care of this myself and have two of the best workers here take him to the appointed location. Contrary to the horrible lies about my people, we svelk cherish the lives of infants. You don't worry about this little one any longer, he's truly in good hands now and will either get a good home or receive the very best training the Empire can provide. You have my word and I say that as one of the Emperor's top advisors."

"Goodbye." You say, tearfully waving at your baby one last time. The svelk woman holds your baby's hand up and makes a waving motion with it. You can't stay any longer and you leave the building as fast as you can.

The streets of the capital are busy, but you still manage to find a secluded spot to release your anguish. You still don't know if you made the right decision, but it's done and now all you can do is hope.

Eventually in time you manage to get over your loss and move on with your life. You've suffered much tragedy, but above all you've always been a survivor and you'll survive this too. Jack was right about that.

 as years always do and eventually you grow old. Much of the political climate changes within your lifetime, but as a fairly mundane citizen who never makes waves and knows how to keep out of the way during times of strife you're never ever in the middle of it.

You spend your remaining years living day-to-day and occasionally brightening up you life by dwelling on happier times.

When you finally die, it's not an important death, as you were never considered an important person. However you and your decisions probably made more of an impact on this world than anyone would ever really know.

For it was your little Francis that grew up and became…

ETERNAL


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

[User] You convince the tribals that loyalty is the best option

[Assistant]
You walk slowly forward, growling.

"Magos Cern has told me about some rebellious behavior. It needs to end. We are a tiny fraction of the population of our ship. Even if we could somehow get all of our weapons, get everyone together and ready to fight, and we'd fail to get free. What could we do? We're lightyears away from home by now. Even if, by some miracle, we could take this ship, we have no idea how to pilot it, and even then the chances of getting that far is astronomical. If we stay loyal, we'll survive. We'll prosper. Eventually, we'll be rewarded. We'll survive, we'll carve a little place in this hellish galaxy for us. Understood?"

The tribals seem a mixture of disappointed and inspired. You know the see the logic in what you're saying. They won't rebel. They'll follow orders now.

"Tell the other tribals. I don't want anyone doing anything stupid. We need to do what's best," you say to the tribals, before turning to Fay. "We should go."

You walk out of the room, quickly followed by Fay, who walks alongside after you.N

"That was a bit depressing," she admits.

"How so?" you ask.

"You're not seriously happy with a life of service to a guy who kidnapped us? These guys killed Duggin!" she asks.

"We need to be pragmatic. If there was an option for escape, I'd take it. But I'm not dying when there's no real chance of escape."

"Umm... I guess," Fay says, clearly unsure what to do.

You walk outside, where Kyros awaits, smiing.

"Are they convinced?"

You nod eagerly, and he smiles.

"Terrific. Now, we need to visit the last of your soldiers, the gladiator-slaves. They're always an interesting crew. Shall we go?"

You look at Fay, who nods.

"Yes, let's," you reply.


[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 quickly turn to investigate the noise

[Assistant] You swivel around, spotting a metal box begin to rumble, emitting air that smells of trees. Then, you hear a booming noise and your head explodes, painting the room red.


[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]
Hidden by the dense screen of trees, twelve thousand Norman warriors wait. Each one is battle ready, and battle hardened; professional killers. Within your camp waits fewer than eight thousand men, but of those eight thousand only three thousand can be trusted. The rest are just farmers, weary and ill-disciplined. Even with the high ground, these numbers are far too slanted.

You know it with a dull certainty; only death awaits you here.

Acwellen is still looking at you, waiting for a response. Your mouth moves of its own accord, the words escaping in a wisp of breath.

"No."


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
The dead branches outside the large window rustle softy in the wind, whispering softly in the pallid light.. Pale snowflakes dance their ghastly dance before they fade away on the frozen ground. Shadows move silently over the floor as the full moon travels through the heavens. A grandfather clock calls nearly inaudible from the hallway, announcing the ghost hour with a faint 'DONG'. The ancient house around you creaks and crunches as if it's stirring in some deep sleep.

Your mind barely registers your surroundings as you are sitting inside your comfortable chair. The library is almost completely engulfed by shadows, safe for the dying embers in the hearth next to you. Reading some dusty tome about knowledge which most people have already forgotten, you often forget that the house around you even exists. However, tonight you can't keep your eyes open. Nearly nodding, nearly napping you try to continue reading, but you notice you've already read the same line seven times over. With a sigh, you decide to give in and rest your eyes for a little while.

Images from long forgotten times unfold themselves in front of your mind's eye. A garden in spring time. The morning sun shimmers on the surface of a blue lake. Two swans glide side by side near the water's edge. Pebbles crunch as a beautiful woman runs towards you. Wearing a plain white dress, with a skin like...

TAP TAP TAP

You are roughly awaken by a sudden tapping at your door. Desperately you try to cling on to your memories, but they fade away like shadows before the sun. With one foot still in Morpheus' realm you wonder if the noise was merely part of your dream. With a curt shrug  you decide to return to your book, when suddenly...

RAP RAP RAP

Fear begins to wrap it's shadowy fingers around your heart. 'Tis just some visitor', you mutter to yourself, 'only this, and nothing more'. With a mind still firmly in sweet dream's grasp, but tempted by curiosity, and fear, you decide to...

[User] You open the door.

[Assistant]
With your hands and legs trembling you lift yourself from your chair. Slowly shuffling trough the cold shadows you feel a chill tingling at your spine. Feeling more and more unsettled you notice the rhythmic swaying of your purple curtains. Against your better judgement this image thrills you, fills you with fantastic terrors, the likes you've never felt before.

To still the beating of your heart you stand near the door, repeating to yourself: 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. Some late visitor at my door. But why would a visitor come knocking at my chamber door, in stead of the front... No, do not dwell upon these thoughts. Tis some visitor, and nothing more.'

With your trembling hand extended you reach for the gleaming brass knob. As your hand envelops the cold metal you stand frozen in place, neither capable of opening the door, nor relinquishing you grip. While all of your instincts are raging within you, you open the door.

The creaking of the rusty hinges pierces your ears and torments your mind. It takes hours before the door is finally open and the darkness of the hallway comes pouring into the library. Shadows and dust whirl around each other, moved by the smallest wind created by opening the door. You gaze at this play when you realize the hallway is empty. Shadows and dust, and nothing more.

[User] You continue...

[Assistant]
Softly whispering, but slowly strengthening, you call into the black abyss: Sir, or madam, I implore your forgiveness. I was napping while reading a book and so gently came your rapping that I scarce was sure I heard you. Please good sir, or madam, make yourself known.'

You look around once more, but no further sounds can be heard coming from the shadows. Strange thoughts and dreams circle through your mind, but still the darkness gives no token. Wary, you whisper with a trembling voice: 'Lenore?' Silence follows, but an echo murmurs back this one word: 'Lenore!'

As you turn to return to the chamber, you once more feel an ominous tingling in your spine. With a beating heart you once more survey your surroundings. The hallway is the same as before, although the dance of dust and shadow has ended, and yet you can't shake of the feeling that someone, or something, is watching you. Suddenly the silence is broken by a ghastly noise, that same noise that led you into this darkness.

TAP TAP TAP

This time it is louder than the last. As your heart once more tries to leap out of your chest, you can feel the air grow colder. Shaking and shivering you try to determine the origin of that dreadful noise. Warily, you turn your head, convinced that an unknown assailant can reveal itself at any moment. Yet only shadows surround you. Anxiously, you keep repeating to yourself: 'There's nothing here but shadows and dust. Tis a leaking pipe that's making that noise, that it is and nothing more.'

Feeling slightly more secure you are about to return to the library, just as the eerie sound returns once more.

TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP

Startled, you look around and you notice the door near the end of the hallway. It's there were the origin of that noise resides. As you continue to gaze upon it, the doorknob begins to rattle, turned by an invisible hand, and the tapping sound strengthens.

[User] You thoroughly scared, you retreat into the library.

[Assistant]
With a pounding heart, you slam the doors of the library shut, trying to block out the shadows and demons of your minds eye. In the pale light of the hearth's dying embers, you stand panting. With your heart beating in your chest, pounding in your throat, you feel light-headed.

'Surely 'tis but a passing fancy, a shadow of an imaginative mind. There is really nothing wrong, as in the morning you shall find. You have never been a madman, nor have you have been told you are. Let us not start doubting now, 'tis a fancy by far. Let's just continue reading my book, that'll calm me down. It is winter, it is cold, it is the season to feel unsettled.'

Still slightly trembling, you sit down in your comfortable chair, and pick up your volume of long-forgotten knowledge. Though the words tend to jumble and jump in front of your eyes, an aftereffect of your shaken heart, the gathering of knowledge does sooth your spirits. After a few minutes pass, you have all but shaken the last remnants of the night's terrors from your mind. Until you hear a tapping on your window's lattice.

You turn towards your window, your soul within your burning, yet you cannot see past its closed shutters. Scared, yet inquisitive, you decide to approach it. For what if it is a visitor who, having tried knocking on your door, tries to seek your attention in other ways? Maybe they're throwing small stones against your window?

Once you reach your window, your hand on the shutters' latch, you feel the cold, winter's air blowing through it. Shivering, you briefly wait, but decide to open the shutters. A flurry of feathers blows past you, too fast to focus on, startling you, and making you jump backwards.

CAW CAW CAW

A raven, a beast as black as the darkest night, flies around your library and perches itself above your chamber door. On the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. How long you've stood watching it in bewilderment, you do not know, but once you've gathered your senses, you burst out into laughter.

'You my dear, sweet raven, surely art no craven. Tell me fearless raven, flying through this winter's snowy night, tell me why you bless me with this wondrous new sight?'

'Nevermore.'

From the its elevated perch a voice rung out, clear as water, yet creaking like ice. The raven, that enigmatic being, spoke as if answering your query.

'Can you understand me, are you answering, am I right? Tell me what your name is on the dark shore of this night?'

'Nevermore.'

Again, that singular word. Gazing into the eyes of that bird, you feel slightly unsettled. Slowly, a soft tingling starts to spread over your spine, as if the shadows of the library, surrounding you, are watching, closing in on you. You try to shake the thought. Focusing your attention back on the raven, you notice that he is still sitting completely still. Not a feather has rustled since you last addressed him.

'Tell me, oh saintly raven, of the region whence you came. Tell me of your master, who gifted such a singular name. How did you ever learn this, did you witness great a pain? Tell me of the grief which shall hold no more name.'

'Nevermore.'

An illogical annoyance bubbles up within your soul. You start to feel like this bird, this beast has been sent here with the sole intention of mocking you. With a slightly raised voice, you address him for one last time: 'Curious demon, mocking tormentor, tell me why you came. Tell me why you carry such a strange and ominous name. Were you sent here by the heavens, or does the devil play a game? Are you here to mock me, or is my own, sad mind to blame?'

[User] You 'Nevermore.'

[Assistant]
Annoyance turns into anger as that beast mocks you once more. Grunting, you mutter to yourself: 'Other friends have flown before, on the morrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before. On the morrow, all will be as was before.'

'Nevermore.'

Angry, yet curious, you gaze once more at that singular bird, perched on the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. Yet, as your gaze meets his, you feel a dark pit of sadness and despair open up, deep within your heart. With a voice filled with grief and wrath, you address the raven once more: 'Beast or devil, work of evil! Vile demon you might be! Tell me if you know of one no longer here with me. Tell me if the saints and angels have the one that I adore. Tell me of the one I lost, my radiant Lenore.'

'Nevermore.'

Lenore, the name haunts you still, even after so many, many months. Briefly, you break free of the raven's gaze, as you look once more upon her portrait, hanging on one of your library's walls. From within her wooden frame, Lenore looks at you with sad eyes, a kind smile upon her lips, filling you with longing.

'Nevermore.'

The raven once more utters that singular word with his creaking, icy voice, mocking your loss, your despair. Icy tendrils grasp at the corners of your mind, and a deep fear makes its way into your heart. You once more turn your eyes towards the placid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. There, your tormentor, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting.

Staring into the unblinking eyes of that shadowy prophet, you feel the last of your courage leaving your body. The shining image of Lenore slowly fading from your mind. Suddenly, in the blackness of the raven's eyes, you see the shimmer of a reflection, of the maiden you adore. Yet now, instead of love, instead of longing, it fills you with an overwhelming feeling of...

[User] You sadness.

[Assistant]
'Heartless demon!' You cry out, 'Tormentor from the nightly shore! Have you no mercy for a poor man, mourning the mem'ry of his late Lenore? Take your break from out my chest, and take your form from off my door! Leave me here in peace this evening, let me forget my sweet Lenore.'

Quoth the raven 'Nevermore'.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your knees give way beneath you. The image of Lenore, once shining and radiant, has now turned into a mockery, a shadow of her former self. That rare and radiant, saintly-clasped maiden that you once loved, whose portrait still adorns your chamber wall, shall visit you nevermore. Her memory, haunting you like a shadow of despair.

CAW CAW CAW

The raven's cry sounds once more, mocking you, laughing at your misery. That grim and beastly devil sitting above your chamber door. Behind you, you hear the final hiss of the embers in your hearth. In the pale moonlight, the raven seems but a shadow against the pallid bust above your door. Yet you know that he is watching you, observing you, peering deep inside your soul. The shadow of death, mocking your loss, and your powerlessness to overcome it.

You meet its gaze once more, its piercing, dead gaze, but cannot find any remorse in it. Silently it watches, waiting tirelessly. For what, only the heavens know. Yet in that cold darkness, in those remorseless eyes, you see that whatever your actions, whatever you do in your life, whatever the cold, lonely future has in stall for you, this demon, this beast, this devil from the nightly realm, shall leave you never- nevermore.


[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 finish off Frankie

[Assistant]
You limp over to Frankie while he's recovering and land a few well placed strikes, even ripping off some of the back plating. It's no good though; Frankie's still got a lot of fight in him. He turns around, grabs you by the throat and begins to squeeze the shit out of it, raising you off the ground. Igor who's dying makes one last effort to avenge his last blunder.

"For my brother Vic!" he yells and fires his weapon at you one last time. He can't miss at this range and your death is instantaneous.


[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 head to the mountains

[Assistant]
Better to get accustomed to them now, since you figure you might have to live in them in the future anyway.

You head further north and traverse the harsh terrain. As far as undead are concerned you're in no danger, however the mountain trolls and cragmaws living there are just as dangerous. You eventually find a suitable cave to live in. To keep yourself entertained you play your music in between your survival.

It's a rough life, but you persevere for a few years. Unfortunately the day comes when a particularly large mountain troll tribe decides to finally get organized enough to eliminate you from being a nuisance.

You awaken one night to see several large figures enter your cave. You spring to action immediately, which causes the trolls to laugh. This buys you time to kill at least one of them, but only one. You're outnumbered, trapped and there's nowhere to hide.

The trolls savagely butcher you and even smash your mandolin over your head before you head to permanent unconsciousness.

The only good thing is that trolls do such a thorough job of eating your body that not even your bones are left to be reanimated when the Great Lich Lord's influence reaches the area.


[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 will send a call to the animals of the hills and plains to come and assist you.

[Assistant]
Leaning against one side of the coach, you close your eyes and send out a call of help to all things attuned to Earth.

You project your own image, and that off the goblins, stinking, poisoning the earth with their mere foul existence.

And your call is answered.

Suddenly, a howl errupts from the hills, a group of wolves coming for a brother in need. Both the goblins and the guards, engulfed in deadly close combat, appear to be startled by the cries of the wolves, but they quickly catch themselves again.

Then, the first goblin shaman is brought down with a single, powerful bite in the neck by a large, black wolf, who you easily identify as the leader of the pack.

You channel your powers of earth to deflect the goblins' knives from the hides of your friends, both animal and human, and the few surviving goblins turn to flee after a mere minute, as more and more wolves join the battle.

The wolves turn to pursuit the foul creatures, but not before the large black wolf catches your eyes and emits a deep growl. You understand perfectly: Brothers are there for each other, but this is a mutual responsibility. With this, the pack leader turns off to follow the rest of the pack, leaving the dazzled guards behind.

You move towards the fallen, seeing if you can do anything about their wounds, when suddenly Lucius screams with pain, and suddenly, your vision fades to black when something hard and heavy hits your head... from behind...

[User] You continue...

[Assistant]
You are not dead, and you are quite sure of it, because you always heared of death being somewhat of a peaceful slumber. Instead, your head feels like it is going to explode every second now, the world appears to be one of those carroussels you have visited once on a fair near the Academy, and if your stomach wasn't empty already, it would soon be.

With a groan you open one of your eyes, only to find that the world not only spins like a carroussel, but the flashing lights that dance before your vision also appear to be like the fireworks that often accompany the fairs.

You have no idea how long you were left there lieing, but when you open your eyes again, you stare into a horrific face, swollen and blurred like a nightmare come true.

You gasp and wrench from the hands that suddenly grasp your shoulders, only to find that the sudden movement brings an explosion of pain so far unknown to you into your head, and you cannot help but twist to one side, assisted by the hands, and empty your stomach for good, even though all that comes from it is blood and bile, each spasm calling forth another explosion of pain that makes you wish you were, in fact, dead.

A voice calls something you do not understand, and something cold splashes your face.

When the spasms stop and the pain subside to barely above tolerable levels again, someone holds a wineskin to your mouth, and greedily you take a gulp, only to choke at the brandy that is now in your mouth.

Coughing, and wincing, you try to sit up, and are assisted once again by the strong hands. You look at who is holding you, and finally, through the tears of pain, your vision clears and you recognize the scarred and bearded face of one of the soldiers who looks at you with some concern.

"Some concussion y'got there, lad", he greets you.

An hour later, when you feel well enough to stand up again, though somewhat shaky - the brandy helped greatly to settle your stomach, there must have been something in it - you take in the scenery.

Only three guards - and yourself - survived, but the goblins were nearly decimated, and the few survivors fled, followed by the wolves you summoned, the scarred man adds with a sideglance at you.

Lucius Tarchild and J'Arel Whitefang are both dead, J'Arel obviously the luckier of the two.

Both were apparently killed by Farhan Brownhand, the emissary of Alzur, the scarred guard that woke you reports with a scowl. He interrupts his talking, and turns to spit on the ground.

Master Whitefang was slain by a bolt of lightning summoned by Master Brownhand, and Master Tarchild was slain by a darkly enchanted sword the emissary wielded when he attacked the magus.

For some reason, the emissary obviously was in league with the goblin horde, and wanted the trek to be exterminated. However, the guards - with the help of the black wolf's pack - managed to overcome the goblins in time, and faced by the remaining guards, Farhan slew most of them with his magic and then turned to flee.

Why he did this, the scarred man, who is named Kor, the guards never knew, but they suspect some dark treachery.

You have been unconcious for more than three hours, and it is high time to break the camp, in case Farhan, rested, returns to finish the work the goblins began.

The animals that drew the coaches are either dead or fled during the ambush, and you have little choice but to leave the place by foot in the twilight that announces nightfall.

Kor, obviously a seasoned veteran, is about to order the remaining guards to pack, when he hesitates a moment to look at you.

Suddenly, a growl makes both of you look around.

The black wolf, a majestic animal, is standing at the corner of the battlefield.

One of the guards warily raises his weapon, but you call him to drop it. Ignoring the guard, the wolf casually and gracefully steps up to you.

He sniffs the air, then turns and heads of to the hills, turning his head just once to see if you follow him, then turns again to walk away.

Kor and the other two stare after him with distrust in their eyes.