[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 you'll continue on the road.

[Assistant]
You pass the inn by, instead opting to continue on into the night on the road. Carrying onward for miles, you eventually lay down on the side of the road to sleep for the night. A few hours later you awaken to the morning light, and continue onwards, north to Sodran.

You've been there before, almost a lifetime ago. Back in your day the place was like a sapling surrounded by soot; attempting to grow, but suppressed by its surroundings. The metaphorical soot to the city's metaphorical sapling was the evil wizard you faced down. Try as you might, you could never forget the expressions on the faces of the downtrodden. They looked like they had nothing to live for.

You suppose you know know how it feels now.

By midday, the city is within sight after passing a few dozen villages or so. Great walls surround it, and tall buildings poke out from behind the walls. Stone steps lead up to a massive stone archway, which itself leads into the city proper. There's a statue at the base of the steps, the details of which you can't make out, but it looks like it's in decent condition from this far away. It's a magnificent sight, to be sure.

Once you're within a half mile of the city not an hour later, you finally notice something you couldn't spot from further away: a large camp encompasses the city. Strange. A quarter mile away you can make out shambling figures stumbling around the camp. Once you get close, not ten yards away, you can make out exactly what's happening.

The shambling figures all look to be malnourished and dressed in glorified rags. The adults sit around the camp looking defeated, a small number praying to whatever God they worship. A few children run around kicking a ball, but their expressions tell you that they've experienced too much. What the hell is going on here?

You go and speak to a guard watching them all, and ask him who these people are. His reply is to let out a dry chuckle. "What, haven't been to this city in a while? These are the unfortunate bastards who were denied access to our fair city. Refugees and the like from the war with Kishak. Mostly natives to our kingdom, couple of Kishak bastards here and there."

"Is there any reason the Count of this city has it closed off?" you ask. His response is to laugh again.

"There's an entry fee, two hundred gold coins. They," he gestures to the camp, "couldn't cover it. Poor bastards, left to rot out here."

What the hell? They couldn't pay some fee, so now they're locked from entering the city? At the very least you can pay it, but you suppose the question remains if you can just walk on by these people.

[User] You can't do that. You need to do something. Get them to rise up.

[Assistant]
It pains you to watch these people carry on like this. Just wandering, barely any food, scarce shelter, and no chance of ever entering the city they're so desperate to live in. This Count of Sodran guy. You've never heard of him, considering the last time you were here the title was still "mayor". It doesn't matter who he's supposed to be, because you know that he's not doing this city any good.

You walk away from the guard and head to the nearest refugee. "Do you have a leader I can speak to?"

He looks up at you, a dejected expression on his face, and gives a weary sigh. He points to a tent that's larger than the rest. "Hugo, the old man in there, is sort of our leader. He gets us jobs in the area and makes sure everyone is well fed."

You nod. "Thanks for the info." With those words, you head to the tent, intent on pitching your idea to the leader. Opening the tent's flaps and stepping inside, you see that it's decorated scarcely. There's some small bedding in the corner, next to a chair and a small bookshelf. An old man with weathered features and a bushy beard sits in the chair reading a book.

You give a cough to break the silence, and he looks up, smiling at you. "Oh, hello there. New to our fair camp?" His voice carries a thick Kishak accent. Guess you know where he's from now.

"No. I came to speak to you about Sodran, and the Count."

"What about it, stranger?"

"Have you ever thought about how many people you have here? It's at least a legion's worth, damn near a thousand from the looks of it. If you banded together... You could take the city."

Hugo looks a bit shocked by your proposal, but not disapproving of the idea. "... Maybe we could, stranger. But what business do you have with us, or Sodran, or the Count?"

"None at all. I'm just a traveler with too much time on his hands."

Hugo mulls your words over. He stares at you, as if trying to assess your reasons for approaching him with this proposition. Finally, he shrugs, and nods at you. "Very well then. I'll organize the refugees... Did you come here just to plant the idea in my head, or do you want to participate in this... Uprising?"

[User] You you've come this far, might as well follow through. You'll join their uprising.

[Assistant]
You nod your head. "Yeah. I'll join you in your uprising."

Hugo smiles, and nods. "Very well. You seem like you have the most combat experience out of anyone in this camp, anyhow! I was simply a baker back home, har har!"

"Is there anyone here who can fight?"

"A decent chunk, I'd say. Mostly defending themselves from any bandits back in their homes. I can take you to Rupert, he was a mercenary years ago. He retired four years back, but he may be willing to help you organize this."

You nod. "I'll speak to him. What does he look like?"

"He's a bit younger than me. He has a bushy mustache, bright red hair, green eyes. You'll know him when you see him, he always has a big smile on his face. In the meantime, I'll gather the others."

Wait. A Rupert with red hair and green eyes? Oh God, if it is him... Grunting in acknowledgement, you go on your way to find Rupert. It doesn't take you long, as you find him swinging his sword at a tree in the center of the camp. Oh great, it probably is him. Approaching him, you speak, "Keeping your swordsmanship sharp?"

He nods, not looking away from his practice. When he speaks, it's in a voice you know: "Aye, I were a merc many years back! Ran me own company I did, paid well. I retired 'cause me wife wanted me to, but I still know 'ow to swing a sword 'round."

Great. It really is him."... Rupert. It's me, Kit."

He turns, and looks at you. His jaw drops along with his sword. Then, he's smiling widely. You're caught off guard by his speed as he rushes over to give you a hug. "Kit, ol' buddy ol' pal! It's been too damn long ya jammy bastard!"

"Yeah, Rupert. Too long. How've you been doing?"

"Pretty damn well I'd say, 'side from the whole losin' my home thing! Dear God lad, it's been ages. Ye've gotten so damn old! Even I look better than ya, haha!"

Despite yourself, you crack a smirk. "Really? At least I'm not soft in the middle like you, you old son of a bitch."

He chuckles. "Alright, maybe I've gotten a wee bit out of shape in the last coupla years. Could still kick yer ass, I bet! Oh, they always left that outta the stories, didn't they? How I whooped yer ass the first time we met! Think I could beat ya if we did round two?"

This makes you roll your eyes. "Oh, yeah, you soundly defeated me with your brave tactic of setting a trap. Piss off." You pause, remembering why you came here. "... Well, I'd love to chat about old times for longer, but I came here for a reason. I convinced the leader, Hugo, to start an uprising so you can get access into the city."

Rupert runs a hand along his chin. "Did ya now? I've been thinkin' 'bout it myself to be honest with ya. So, I'm down. It'll be just like old times, eh Kit?"

"Just like old times."

"So, when do we start and whadda we need to do?"

"Whenever we're ready. Right now, I think we need to stock up on weapons. You know anybody who has some?"

"Aye, that I do. There's a few people 'round here who have personal weapons, mostly shortswords and daggers. A few folks have stockpiles of them too, we could convince them to lend 'em out to the folks who don't have none."

You nod. "Good. You organize this, they'll trust someone they know more." Rupert nods at your words, then continues on to the people who have weapons. In the meantime, you head back to Hugo's tent. When you arrive, you see that he's outside, addressing a crowd of refugees.

"People of this fair camp," he speaks in a low voice, enough for people in the immediate vicinity to hear, but not loud enough for it to reach the guards watching the camp from a distance. "It is time for us to finally enter this city... By force."

A few members of the crowd gasp at this, but are otherwise not opposed by the idea. It makes sense, you suppose; this city has kept them under its boot long enough. Hugo continues, "This brave stranger here has finally given me the courage I need to carry this uprising out. Step forward." He points to you. You step up. "You have spoken to Rupert, yes?"

You nod. "Yes. I spoke to Rupert. He's currently gathering people who have stockpiles of weapons so that they may be handed out to all of you who need them."

Hugo nods. "Very good. And before you begin to wonder, my friends: yes. Some of you may very well die in this uprising. But the important thing is that the other refugees will enter the city in your place."

The crowd all nods at this; they know not to cause a scene when the guards are near. They then head back to their tents, where they presumably get ready. Rupert comes to meet you and Hugo soon after.

"I spoke to the people that got weapons," he says. "They're all on board with the plan. This'll go right smooth like if we just keep on keepin' on."

Hugo nods. "Excellent work, Rupert. What have you to say, stranger?"

"When do we do this?"

"Tonight. The guards won't be expecting it then. We'll strike tonight."

You give a grunt in affirmation, then head off to the edge of the camp to await nightfall. Hours pass, and soon, the sun has gone down and the moon has taken its place in the sky. No lights illuminate the camp; it's as if nothing is there at all. You push through the inky darkness and to Hugo's tent.

There, he reads by candlelight. You speak up, "Hugo. Is it time?"

Hugo nods. "I do believe it's time." With that, he closes the book and stands, leaving the tent. One by one, the other refugees emerge from their tents as well. They must be better coordinated than you thought. With everyone gathered, you make sure you have their attention, then address them.

"We'll head through the front gates. I'll take out any opposition, I'll just need the others to watch my back." They all look apprehensive of the idea, but after a moment they nod. Still, you know well enough that they might bolt at the first sign of trouble. You gather up whoever's fit to fight, giving a grand total of nearly two hundred for the attack. Hugo decides to stay behind to make sure the others are fine.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
This late at night, there are no guards milling around outside the city. Your band of would-be freedom fighters ascend the stone steps up to the city gates, completely unnoticed. When you reach the gates, you see two guards ahead; one is watching a firefly intently as it floats around his face, while the other has fallen asleep while standing up.

You unsheathe your sword and rush forward, stabbing the firefly guard through the chest. He lets out a blood-tinged gasp of mingled shock and pain, before slumping over. You pull your sword out of his chest and swing at the sleeping guard, whose head rolls to the ground before he can even wake up. "Open the gates," you order the others, and they move to do so.

The sound of wood grinding against stone greets your ears as the gates are opened. After a moment, they're open enough for you to slip through. Looking around, you see that only a few people roam the city streets, most of them guards. You turn your head over your shoulder to address the group, "If I look like I'm in trouble, come help. Otherwise, stay back." With those words, you charge at the nearest guard with a swing.

You cut down a few guards before they even notice you're there. Once they do, however, shouting breaks the silence of the night as they alert each other to your presence. One grabs a whistle and blows it, the sharp sound tearing through the city streets. Whatever civilians are around quickly run away... And you notice a few refugees taking the opportunity to bolt as well.

Damn those cowards! You should have figured, though: they're just peasants without a lot in life. They're not willing to die for their freedom. Hell, you're not even sure why you're fighting their fight... But you aren't one to quit something when you've started.

You continue to fight. Of the two hundred refugees that were fit to fight, a grand total of twenty stuck with you, with Rupert among them. The rest fled deeper into the city or back to the camp. It doesn't matter; what does matter right now is getting to the Count's manor and taking it down.

You continue to fight through the streets for what seems like days, but in truth was only about an hour. You cut down any guards that attacked, and the others watched your flanks and defended you when any got past your defenses. It works well as a system, but all good things must come to an end. One by one, your allies drop to the guards.

By the time you reach the Count's manor, four of you remain: yourself, Rupert, and two men you learn are named Karl and Frank. You don't bother with subtlety when you reach the metal gate in front of the Count's manor. Raising your blade up high, you slam it down upon the lock keeping it closed once, twice, three times, before it splits wide open and opens the way.

The moon illuminates the manor, casting a shadow on your quartet. No guards are there to greet you, which is strange. Looking around the courtyard leading into the manor, you notice a collection of barrels. Curious, you approach them, and read the labels on them.

They read "gunpowder".

You find yourself grinning. This will help. "You three, grab a barrel and throw it inside." The others quickly move to help you, picking them up and heading to the door. You open it for them, finding it unlocked, and they begin to throw the barrels into the entrance hall.

Once most of the barrels are inside, you grab the last one and pull the cork off the top. You drain a line of gunpower out of it, leading from the door to where the barrels are placed. Then, you exit the manor and pull out your tinderbox. The flames burst forth, and the trail of gunpowder ignites, moving slowly to the barrels. You take the chance to run in the opposite direction.

A moment later, there is a loud explosion, and the manor is set ablaze. Still, you keep on guard. There weren't any guards around, which is strange. As you're comtemplating, Rupert, Karl, and Frank are celebrating. "Lighten up, lad! We blew up the Count and his damned manor! The city's free!"

"Not quite."

You look up to see a man consumed by flames, floating above you. He begins to drop down, and you instantly roll backwards. The man on fire lands on top of Frank, smashing through his head and completely obliterating it. Karl and Rupert back away in terror.

"I don't appreciate what you did to my home. Die." He raises a hand, and slings a fireball at Karl. The refugee is consumed by flames, screaming all the while. Desperately, he tries to pat them away, but it does no good. He falls to the ground and rolls around in pain, his screeches of sheer agony lasting until his lungs collapse from the fire. Even then he's still alive, if only for a moment longer.

The man on fire turns to you. "You. Die." He slings a fireball your way, but you manage to deflect it with the flat side of your sword. The fireball flies right back at him, and he recoils away from it for only a moment. Still, he laughs. "You think you can kill me with fire? Really?"

He snaps his fingers and the fire subsides. He's naked, athletically built with fair skin. His black hair is messy. Another snap, and now he's fully clothed with hair neatly combed. "Tell me this, peasants. Why did you feel the need to burn down my manor?"

This is the Count.

"Yer a bastard that's corruptin' this fair city with yer stench, that's why!" Rupert answers for you, which makes the Count laugh heartily.

"My, you're something. An old drunk picking a fight he can't possibly win. Amusing." Then, the Count sighs. "Oh well, I'm bored of you." A snap of his fingers, and then Rupert is sent flying into a nearby wall. You shout his name, but the Count turns on you. "... Hm. You look familiar."

"I'm the man who saved this city, you son of a bitch! And I'm gonna do it again!" you shout, readying your sword.

The Count laughs. "Hoho, Sir Kit! I should have known! Come to slay the big bad Count, have we?"

"You're not human! You're a... A monster!"

"Demon, to be specific." He gives you a smug smile.

This son of a bitch, correcting you like you're a simple-minded peasant. You find yourself grinding your teeth together. Unconsciously, your grip on your sword tightens. As you're doing this, your eyes catch Rupert's as he picks himself up. He's still alive, if only barely. You can see the question in his eyes...

He's asking you if you want him to help you out.

[User] No. Rupert might die if he attacks. You'll do this yourself.

[Assistant]
Slowly, you shake your head. Rupert looks slightly worried, but nods. That settled, you turn your attention back to the Count. He gives a tsk, shaking his head and chuckling slightly. "Colluding with your half dead pal? I'm not stupid or blind, you know."

Shit. Should have figured. Now you're glad you didn't bring Rupert into this. So, rather than try and fuck around any longer than you already have, you jump right into the fray. Swinging your sword at the demonic Count, you're not surprised when he catches the blade with his hands. You expected him to go for some blatant display of power like that. He just made a mistake.

You grit your teeth harder than you already were as you twist the blade. The Count is taken off guard by this and you manage to flip him onto his back. Yanking the sword from his grip, you raise it up high and swing down, cutting his head in half at the nose.

You let out of a sigh, thinking it's over, when you hear clapping behind you. "Well done, Kit! Well done!" You turn your head to see who's saying that...

It's the Count. Alive and unharmed. If you were any younger, you'd let out a gasp of shock and shout something like "how are you still alive?!" But you're not as stupid as you were. Instead, you release a weary sigh. "Let me guess: demonic powers?"

"You bet. No mortal can kill me."

You run forward and swing again. The Count blocks, but you continue to attack, until eventually you cleave him in half. He rises again. "Give up, Kit."

Your response comes in the form of a sword through his head.

The two of you dance like that for a while. Occasionally, he attacks, and it takes all you have to defend yourself. Even when he grazes you it's enough to nearly take you out of the fight. The only thing carrying you right now is adrenaline, passion, and pure unbridled hatred for this "man" and his kind.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts. You just know that right now you're keeping yourself held up by your sword. Your body is bloodied and bruised, and you're not sure how long you can keep going... That is, until you notice a strange black orb poking out of the Count's chest.

His heart.

He doesn't notice, because he simply awaits your next attack. "Looks like your wounds are catching up to you, human. Next time you strike, I'll bring you down."

You're going to have to make this one count.

Picking up your sword, you make as if you're going to swing, and run at the Count. He's already moving to intercept your swing, when you quickly shift and run your sword through his heart. A look of shock makes its way onto his face, and he swings a clawed hand at your face. It claws off a good chunk of your head, including your left eye, but you don't give a damn. You've got him now.

You pull the blade out once he hits the ground. He's not getting up from that. You almost feel like you're about to fall over and die yourself, but you raise your blade up high for the final attack. He raises his hand feebly. "W-wait, d-don't..."

You swing.

Then, you collapse.

Rupert rushes over to you. His face is a mask of horror and sadness. "Kit... Oh God, lad. What the Hell were you thinkin'?"

"Just... Being a hero... One last... Time."

"I... I want to say help is coming, Kit. But Lilith ain't 'round no more."

Despite yourself, you let out a chuckle. It causes you more pain, and your words come out weaker. "Don't... Worry... Gonna be seeing her... And Henry... And Thomas... And... Grace... Soon."

Tears are streaming down Rupert's face. "You were always such a damned fool, lad."

"Heh... May... be..."

You let out your last breath.

In the coming days the guards are wiped out by the refugees. You become a martyr for their cause, drawing support from the townsfolk who worshiped you like one of the Gods. Soon, the rebellion takes over Sodran, allowing any and all who need shelter into the city.

This proves to be its downfall in the coming years.

The city can't handle the massive influx of people. Overpopulation becomes an issue. The homeless rate spikes, as there aren't enough jobs to go around. As such, crime rises as well, and soon the majority of the city is comprised of criminals.

Sodran's reputation shifts from a glorious beacon of light to a city of thieves. No one wants to go there anymore, for fear of their coin purse and their life. The merchant and trade caravans passing through the city disappear one by one until none are left, and the city's income goes with it.

With the rise of overpopulation, homelessness, and crime, it's no surprise that the rate of diseases the citizens catch increases as well. Eventually, damn near the whole city is infected with a dangerous plague for which there is no cure. The city is quarantined off by the King. When the last citizen dies, Sodran is razed, and no trace of its existence is left but rumors and closely kept records.

This matters not to a dead hero such as yourself. In death, you find peace. In death, you see them again. In death, you are happy.

Despite what most religions on your world would like people to believe, there are no pearly gates or fluffy clouds in the afterlife. There is no fire and brimstone. There's not even a blank void of nothingness. Instead, there is bliss, with fallen friends gathering around you to celebrate your reunion with them.

It's the ending that a hero deserves.

THE END


[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 comply

[Assistant]
You put your hands behind your head. The men grab you, and force you into the gurney. They strap your hands up my your head and your feet together, leaving you stretched out on the gurney.

"Good girl," one of them says, before placing a ball gag in your mouth and strapping it around your head.

You wince one off them puts surgical gloves on, before drawing a thermometer that's pushed into your ear. He checks it, before placing a cold hand on your stomach. He pushes gently, before squeezing.

"I'm right. Get the injections ready."

You shake and try to scream as one of the men takes out a needle that's almost comically large and sharp. He jabs it into your stomach and you scream into your gag and presses down, releasing the liquid into your stomach. You begin to tear up as he repeats the process with several more needles, and by the end your eyes are obscured with tears. He smiles at you through the ski mask, before another man arrives with a large burlap sack. He opens it, pulling out a small mammal like a rat or a ferret, and a large knife. You watch in horror as he slices the mammal's throat open, letting blood flow out onto your stomach. He tosses the carcass aside, and begins to use his fingers to draw various patterns along your belly as you wince and shake. He sighs, and slaps you hard across the face.

"Stop shaking," he says, before turning to one of the other men. "Tomorrow night."

He finishes drawing his patterns, before taking out a small black notebook. He begins to read from it in an insane language you don't understand, like the spluttering of a madman. The pain in your stomach intensifies greatly as you let out a petrified scream as you feel yourself being torn apart. Finally, he stops, as does the pain.

"Ah, good. Get the chloroform and untie her. Then, bring the kids back from their walk."

They free you from your straps, and you notice the door's still open.


[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 leave without getting paid

[Assistant]
You don't even care about the money or anything at this point, you just need to get off this island and Moreau's the only one who can fly the plane.

"Alright look, forget the money, just take me home, I just don't want to be on this island any longer the whole place sickens my sensibilities."

Moreau looks annoyed by your comment.

"Hmm, well if you hate my Utopia so much, I certainly won't keep you any longer. I'll fly you home immediately. I didn't want your kind really living here anyway. At least Gil is civilized enough to appreciate this place."
"Uh actually I'd like to go back to the mainland as well. I don't care about any money either, I'm not going to be living anywhere that requires rent anyway." Gil says nervously.
"What? I thought you wanted to stay?"
"I changed my mind! Can we just leave?!"
"Alright fine, I'll fly you both back. I'll get the plane ready. I'm a little puzzled by all this, you've helped me, but now you don't want any reward. All I can say is thanks I guess."

After Moreau leaves to start up the plane, you ask Gil what's up with him.

"So why are you leaving?" you ask.
"Duh! The same reason you are, because my cousin will destroy this fucking place, even though Moreau seems to be oblivious of that fact. Not to mention he still sounded pissed at me on the phone, so I don't want to be here when he arrives! (Sigh) And I did so want to live here too."
"Well if it wasn't your cousin, it would've been the Martians so you would've had to leave anyway. I'm not getting anything out of this either; I gotta go back to my cabin in the woods and figure out how to raise some money again. I hope Erik's got something lined up."
"At least you have a home to return to, I gotta find a new one all over again."
"Hm, well there's a small lake in the woods I live in, you might try that for awhile. Not too many people go into the woods, especially since I tend to discourage it."
"I might just do that since I don't have any better ideas right now, I guess you're not a bad sort for a land dweller. Sounds like Moreau got the plane working, let's get the hell out of here."

You and Gil proceed to talk about a great many of things while on the plane and become quite friendly with each other. Probably a first for the both of you. After Moreau drops you both off, you continue to discuss the old days while Gil checks out the lake you were talking about. He mentions it's a good place as long as nobody bothers him. Gil becomes your new neighbor and you both part ways since you both still want your solitude. You do get together to watch TV when a news story comes on a couple days after you left Moreau's island...

The Martians arrived just like they said, and so did Godzilla. A massive fight broke out, but of course the only winner could ever be Godzilla. Their flying saucers were incinerated by his radioactive breath and their troops were crushed underfoot with ease.

The entire island was also incinerated and crushed underfoot with ease! Most of Moreau's citizens were killed in the cross fire of this battle. Dr. Moreau was found dead from a self-inflicted beam blast to the head (A weapon he picked up from a dead Martian no doubt) Some of the survivors claim his last words were "Such destruction… Why? Why? Why didn't they tell me?!"

This massive devastation continued even after Godzilla killed all the Martians, apparently from some of the other survivor reports, he was tearing the place apart searching the entire island for something or someone. When he didn't find it, he gave a roar and went back to Japan.

After watching the news report, you turn to Gil.

"Alright Gil what the hell did you do to your cousin? I mean what possibly could you've done to piss him off so bad? It's not like you're Rodan or Mothra."
"Eh, it's not something I like to talk about Wolf. I'm not too proud of doing it, but…"
"But what Gil? Out with it!"
"Well…I kind of…impregnated his wife…I know what your next question is, and it's a bit complicated so I won't try to explain, but we aquatics mate a little differently than…"
"Alright Gil! I don't need to hear anymore!" you say, and then sudden you have to ask…
"So wait a minute. You mean to say Minya was…"
"Yep, he was my son. Why else would he blow smoke rings instead of radioactive fire and be so small?"
"Well I thought it was because he was young."
"You probably haven't kept up with Minya, but he's STILL that size and still can't breathe radioactive fire. My cousin knew something was rotten around Minya's 10th birthday, since he should've grown a lot bigger by then as well as the fire stuff. His wife confessed everything. It's another reason why I'm so reclusive."

You just stare in disbelief at all this. Even with all the dirty secrets you've known about in this business, this one is definitely a new one for you. You don't think you'll be able to look at Godzilla OR Gil in the same light ever again.

Godzilla might be King of the Monsters, but you have to give some sort of props to someone who fucked his wife and got away with it.


[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 heading East with your new powers, get to the colony soon

[Assistant]
You keep heading East and don't find much food on the way but your powers do increase. You manage to control a fast type that comes into range, and since you were hungry, it provides some food too. Not nearly as good as human but definitely better than shambler flesh at least.

You learn to differentiate the minds of shamblers and fast types, even a mutant to the South falls temporarily under your control as your range increases. Your tests let you control several infected at once and direct them as you please. "They will have no idea what hit them when I reach the Eastern colony" You think to yourself. Your physical abilities have also improved. You were already faster and stronger than any normal human but that has increases along with your mental abilities, you know there isn't a normal human alive who could face you in a fight and you can rip a car's door clean off its hinges with only a little effort.

It's not long after that you finally reach the bridge across the river. there are infected on it but this wont stop you now as you direct them over the sides of the bridge to fall into the deep flowing water below. after a few moment you realize that either the fall or the drowning has actually killed most of them but shrug it off as another test, they are just prey after all.

Then the pain begins. A sudden sharp stabbing right into your mind forces you to your knees. You try to fight it off and feel it diminishing, like you are holding a barrier up against it, protecting your mind with your powers, but you feel jsut how much stronger the other force is and your defense crumbles.

"Sorry about this, I really am, but you are far too close to being red to get in here alive."

You try and respond but find that everything feels fuzzy, you are sure the voice in your head is female though

"Oh yes, might have damaged a few things there, attacking really isn't my strong suit so I might have used too much strength, well either way it doesn't matter now. Bye"

You feel a slight pain then everything fades out to black


[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 decline their offer

[Assistant]
To side with these bloodsuckers would be folly. First of all they would not be asking for you to join them, if they didn't feel you were a threat. This means you have the upper hand. Second of all, despite what they claim about your dealings with the infernal plane, you ARE still a necromancer, and as such it is not you who should be taking orders from the dead, it is THEY who should be taking orders from YOU! You're confident that you'll be able to "beat" Hell without losing yourself to it. The assassin did make you think somewhat on your future. You're going to have to be twice as more intimidating than you are if you want to survive, and what you have in store is going to ensure such a thing.

"I shall have to think on it." You say with a non-committal answer.
"Yes, well you don't have too much time to do so. I" The assassin says and leaves with her brethren.

You make your way back to Aftermath and then send a message to Sinthinia that you've got the entire plan. When you explain to her what exactly is going to happen, she's positively having an orgasm at the thought of what she's going to have done to Sesisek in her special torture chamber. Afterwards you begin to make plans of your own.

A few days pass and Sesisek tells you that he has everything ready. He mentions he'll be taking care of Sinthinia personally along with her whole secret service. You'll meet the vampire assassins in a dead forest near Fury.

You send Sinthinia a message that you'll be arriving at Fury to report what Sesisek is planning. She'll be expecting you, but what will actually happen, will be completely different.

When you meet the vampire assassins, you arrive in a "hurried and disheveled" state so that you look like you've been in an attack. They're wondering what's going on.

"They found out about the plan! Someone found out and told Sinthinia and Velzix! I barely survived an ambush! I've definitely made my decision, I'm joining you!"
"And what makes you think our offer still stands?" the female assassin asks
"Because I risked my life to even warn you guys about this! I could've just ran off and left you here waiting for the demon detachment that's on its way now! You also still obviously need all the help you can get to defeat Velzix, and he's only gotten closer to opening up his permanent portal. I still can be of use, I still have vital information that can hamper his goal, but we need to get out of here right now! Take me, or don't, but you have nothing to lose by taking me with you, after all I am currently depleted and hopelessly out numbered by your kind."

The female assassin turns to her fellow vampires and they converse a second before agreeing.

"Very well, we'll take you. I hope for your sake you'll have something of importance to tell Lord Rostov, or you'll find yourself trading one death for another. And you will still have to prove yourself more before we'll make you one of us."

You nod, and contain your smile. The vampire assassin pulls out a black cube like device and presses a few button and you're whisked away to the Vampire Clan secret fortress.

Now to put your plan into action…

Suddenly you greatly draw upon the hellish energy of the infernal realm and summon the very souls being tormented there to assist you. Stealing from hell like this is a very dangerous task and you feel very drained, but you manage to maintain your control.

The vampire assassins barely have time to react before the hellfire spirits set them on fire on the inside out as them attempt to enter their soulless shells, looking for a new "home". The short lived screams of the vampires is one of extreme agony, proving that even the undead may feel pain.

"YES! Onward my tormented slaves! There are many corporeal shells for you to inhabit!"

You walk calmly through the Vampire Clan Fortress as the hellfire spirits slaughter the vampires with ease. The screams begin to grow on you. You may be a necromancer, but you think now you have a better understanding of what it means to be a demon. Your thoughts have become steadily more twisted with each passing blood leech death.

Finally you reach Lord Rostov. He looks very regal and dignified even when certain doom awaits him. He says nothing merely attempts to fend off your fiery minions. He does better than his underlings, but ultimately he too is burned to a crisp, putting an end to the vampire clans once and for all.

Now it's just you alone with several of these burning souls still screaming for a host body. You're barely keeping them from attacking you and you begin to dismiss them immediately, sending them back to hell. Except one. One which you have plans for and are going to take the ultimate gamble with.

Letting your guard down you release the spirit from your command which enters inside your body.

You've felt pain before as you've slowly aligned yourself with hell, but none of it has ever compared to this. Your whole inside of your body is literally on fire. You feel the organs in your body rise in temperature, and explode as they burn up. There is no way you should be surviving this, but something else within you has taken control.

Your will and your desire for one. Your unnatural ties to necromantic energy for another.

"NO! I will NOT die like this! YOU are MY servant and I am the master here! I will be master of ALL! You will obey me and cease this behavior instantly!" you bellow, as your vocal cords burn away making your "bellow" sound more like a terrible hissing raspy sound.

You collapse and continue burning and convulsing on the stone floor trying to fight off death and tame this disobedient spirit. After about a day of this, the transformation is complete.

What you are exactly is questionable however. Are you alive? Are you undead? Are you a demon? Perhaps you're all three now.

The tormented hell spirit is still within what's left of your burned body, though you've completely absorbed whatever "free will" it might've had. The pain is still there though somewhat duller. You probably shouldn't be feeling anything given that all your nerves have been destroyed and technically being dead and all, but the powers of hell are known to extend pain even after death. You know it's somehow keeping you alive, but at a heavy duty price obviously.

You get up wracked with pain all over your blackened and smoldering body. If you were a mess before, you're a complete wreck now, but you've gained more power than you ever could've while as a mortal. And you've not only swindled death, but hell as well. You've achieved something even the Great Lich Lord didn't do.

And if all goes as planned you'll achieve ANOTHER thing he didn't do.

But first you'll go check on your new "ally" Sinthinia.

When you leave the Vampire Clan Fortress, you find that Velzix's realm had to put down a very small rebellion. Sesisek seeing that his plan had gone to complete shit when you and the vampires didn't arrive decided he was going to go ahead with it anyway. He and a few thousand foolish mortals that followed him attacked in open revolt. He didn't last long before he was easily put down. You were actually thought to be dead (Which isn't entirely inaccurate) while you were undergoing your new transformation and struggling to survive the process, all the undead that you had under your control slumped back to death again. A few of your acolytes picked up the slack, but given how many undead troops that suddenly dropped, it was still assumed that someone had killed you.

How surprising it was for Sinthinia when you went to meet her in private. The first being to be graced in the presence of your new form. Not surprisingly she didn't recognize you at first, she's even a little unnerved. You like that.

"Ah, lovely Sinthinia…you were quite right to choose me as an ally. Even in this new form I would still find it quite a shame to destroy such a beautiful form…"
"…you? I thought…where the fuck have you been and…what the hell are you?"

"Hell. Hell's exactly what I am." You hideously laugh.

You proceed to explain the whole story since you feel in a mood to do so. She's very fascinated by the process since even she didn't know it was possible for a mortal to achieve something like this. She seems particularly intrigued by the fact that you're in a lot of pain constantly.

She mentions that Velzix will probably start being more concerned with you, but of course you care not for such matters. You've defeated Death, you've cheated Hell, what's one demon lord?

[User] You once again you enter a new stage of your journey

[Assistant]
Chapter 4: Damned

Five years have passed…

It's been ten years since you allied with Velzix, an alliance that's becoming more tenuous with each passing day.

Startled by your transformation and surge in power, Velzix proceeded to work extra hard on opening the portal, which he did...permanently. Velzix now has unlimited reinforcements, but you do as well. Your new found abilities allow you to not only summon the torments spirits of the infernal plane, but you soon were also able to raise dead demons as hellish undead. Something that couldn't be accomplished before, by any being. Not even the Great Lich Lord. Combine this with your other regular necromantic abilities and you're a severe threat with completely loyal troops who will have to be dealt with soon as far as Velzix is concerned. But for now, the alliance still stands. Your other "ally" Sinthinia still maintains her grip on her spy network, but it's of little importance to you now. You've completely filled your holdings with undead be they former mortals or demons. None of them are going to rat on whatever it is you're plotting.

As for the "Grand Alliance" it's in its death rattle. The Zalan Empire has basically taken full control of it, but even with more of a unified leadership, this last hope for mortals is doomed. You don't even know why they persist in struggling. You alone have pushed your undead hell legions towards the gates of the capitol yourself, beating that idiotic Tivadol to the punch. You hear of how he roars with rage at your successes.

Having accomplished this feat, and despite your transformation, your thoughts can't help, but turn to your family. It's been years since you've had any kind of direct contact with them. You know your Mom still lives in the capitol of the Zalan Empire and that your sister is still currently holding the last pitiful lines of defense there as a general.

As for your Dad…well you know exactly where he's at right now. He's in your dungeon. Sinthinia recently had him captured after he and his company had been waging an ongoing guerilla tactic campaign of irritating raids on Velzix's Realm. When you found out, you insisted that he be brought to you and she was only too happy to oblige, knowing that your dislike of him, only grew and festered into full blown hatred after your transformation.

While it's true you're supposed to oversee the destruction of the Zalan capitol personally, you're going to enjoy yourself in tormenting the one who sired you first.

You open the door to his cell and see a beaten and bloody old man. No longer is he the figure of intimidation that you once quaked in fear of when he was around. His wounds are recent from the lashes he's been taking. You decided it would be best to start off with the basics before moving on to more elaborate tortures.

However, upon seeing you, he manages to compose himself the best he can.

"Ugh…too chicken shit to do your own dirty work, huh?" he says spitting blood.
"I think you'll find that by letting others do my dirty work, I'm actually showing mercy. Because when I starting doing it, you won't be in any condition to perform this poor attempt of bravado."

Your Dad finally stands up and addresses you more directly. He looks at you and shakes his head.

"You think by killing me, that you're proving something? You ain't proving shit boy except what a lousy disappointment you truly are. Now your sister, THERE'S a child to be proud of. Even yer mother gave up on you. Broke her heart you know that?"

You can't believe this arrogance!

"Feh, aligning yourself with the hordes of hell, I always knew you were too weak to do anything on your own. You couldn't even follow the path of darkness without help." Your Dad mocks.

You don't know how he's doing this, but he's actually managing to get to you. You're tired of hearing this and you cast a spell that strips a portion of his skin off. He falls to the floor in pain.

"You will NOT dictate your judgment on me! I am beyond such things now, especially from the likes of you! A blood thirsty thug who committed more than a few atrocities in his day and up until I began my path of darkness, was still committing foul deeds under the guise of law. You are no better than me!"
"Wrong again boy. I cleaned up my act…heh heh, okay maybe not completely. But I ain't never got myself in league with demons. Let alone turn myself into some unnatural…thing. Yer dammed boy. And while you might think you're going to be controlling everything, you ain't. You don't control hell boy, it controls you. Yer nothin' but a slave to..."

"ENOUGH!" you shout and kick him before he can complete his sentence. The rage building up in you is enough to twist steel, but still your Dad mocks you. He's laughing!

"Ha ha ha, broke yer mother's heart…"

You don't have time for this right now. You're supposed to oversee the final attack of the Zalan capitol, and you're still going to do that, and your Dad is going to feel the pain when you come back. In the meantime he can rot in his cell.

You arrive and the final attack is ordered. You storm the gates as cannons destroy multitudes of your troops only to be replaced with more. You see your sister on top of the battlements ordering her soldiers to fire upon you. During this attack you feel several bullets enter your body breaking through your magical defenses. You ignore the pain, as its nothing compared to what you've been exposed to.

Not stopping, you enter the gates of the city realizing that this was inevitable. Things could've only been this way. Your undead slay all those that oppose you, but you mentally make sure none of your undead has murderous intentions towards any of your family. You have special plans for them. You head towards your parent's old house, taking little notice of the death around you.

When you arrive you find the house empty. In fact it looks like it's been empty for months. So many memories here…a different time… even a different life now…

"She left when the attacks first came. She didn't say where either. She just told me she was leaving. I even had her followed for awhile, but she was quite adept at eluding my scouts, not to mention I had other concerns to take care of." Your sister says entering behind you.

"Mom always was smart, well except maybe when it came to Dad, but he's rotting in my torture cell right now. So who cares?" you remark.

Your sister doesn't make her sense of concern noticeable by your revelation, but instead looks upon you with complete disgust.

"I can't believe you've let yourself become what you are. What you've done…"
"I've found that one is capable of quite a bit, when one sets their mind to it. Even the demons fear me and I have only myself to congratulate. Soon they too will fall…perhaps this is a lingering sense of brotherly concern, but you could join me in this. You would be a great asset in the coming war with Velzix. Perhaps I could even help you transform as well."

She spits on the floor, and then raises her magical glowing sword.

"I thought as much."

You blast your sister with powerful beam of negative energy causing the color to drain from her face. She's still continues towards you, but another blast causes her to fall.

She's near death and your twisted mind still ponders what to do. Your sister was a great warrior, and you weren't joking when she would be a great asset to you if she was on your side. You're sure if given enough time and using the right magic rituals you could transform her like you did to yourself. Part of you also still has your Dad's words of how she was someone to be proud of ringing in your head. Transforming her into a vessel of evil would be destroying that image in your mind.

[User] You transform her

[Assistant]
Overcome with irrational hatred and jealousy of an opinion that technically shouldn't matter to you at all, you grab your sister's body and have dark plans for it. Even better, you're going to have your Dad see exactly what you're going to do. Two tortures in one.

You infuse her with a bit of unholy energy to keep her alive. As you're leaving one of your mortal necromancers approaches you in the middle of the chaos.

"Uh sir, we've taken over the city. The royal family was butchered in their own throne room."
"Huh? Yeah, yeah. Well you know what to do, recruit the weak willed, kill the resisters, and raise the dead. I got more important things to do."

You take your sister back to Aftermath and begin your work. You start to perform rituals and have your Dad watch every reprehensible act you do to your sister over the course of several weeks. She slowly goes from becoming a noble warrior to a malevolent murderer. She screams in pain from the vile assaults upon her mind and body. For the first time you think you've seen your Dad weep and display any kind of emotion. He even begs you to stop, which really make you smile.

When you're ready to represent the final act of your work, you approach your Dad who's a completely broken man at this point.

"See, and look upon your pride and joy now Dad. You were proud of her because she was everything she represented that you weren't right? She shook off the brutality and replaced it with nobility. She wasn't a self-serving mercenary; she was a duty bound fighter who believed in something. So much so that she was willing to try to kill me even though the odds were against her. She chose a path because it was what she BELIEVED in, not something she became due to falling under some spell like you did. Well guess what? I CHOSE my path too. And I've chose to turn your beloved daughter into you. Did you know she had the capacity for great evil already? Guess your genes are always there, no matter how much you try to deny them. I had to look deep, but I found that part of her. That darkest part of her hates, her violent tendencies, all of it. I nurtured and coaxed it out through…well I think you saw most of the process. Now behold my greatest achievement since my ascension."

You sister comes from behind the door; she looks much different than from what your Dad remembers. No longer is she a force of good, but one of evil. Of course though you've made sure she's totally obedient to you. The tormented hell soul that inhabits her body is completely under your command. It causes her great pain, but then again so are you. Why should you be the only one who suffers?

She sneers at you as she walks towards your Dad. You can feel her hatred toward you, yet she knows she cannot do anything toward you. Instead she takes it out on your Dad who can only give a mournful look of what she's become before he's hacked to bits in a bloody fury.

Yes, she will certainly be a terror on the battlefield, you think.

Ten years pass…

Twenty years have passed, and the world has tilted firmly into the grip of evil. Demons pour into this world more and more each day. The Grand Alliance is dead and the "civilized" governments of mortals have fallen to demonic hordes or your own undead ones. Pockets of resistance always exist, but they will soon fall in time as well.

With the success of your sister's transformation, you proceeded to pick other powerful mortals and unnaturally twist them to your will, turning them into something more than demon, more than undead and certainly more than human. They are much like you except they are completely obedient to your will. They hate you of course for their painful existence, but is it not the way of all children to want to kill their father?

Perhaps Hell has changed you, but you've made quite a few changes to Hell…

Of more immediate concern is Velzix, who demanded years ago that you stop your experiments on mortals. He and most of the other pure blood demons already didn't like the fact you could raise their dead, but they REALLY didn't like how you were achieving something that they hadn't thought of, let alone even accomplish. Of sure a few can possess a body, or turn an idiot to evil, but how many can create a whole new "race" of beings who are rivaling them in wickedness yet subservient to their creator? Of course you told Velzix to fuck off and there begun a civil war.

Your undead, mortal servants and Hellbred warriors now control your territory known as the Forsaken Dominion. Velzix still calls his territory "Velzix's Realm" but it's primarily inhabited by demons now, though mortal slave do serve them under their clawed heels. Neither place is particularly appealing to any right and good thinking being though.

Tivadol the Destroyer was the first fool to directly challenge you. He decided that if he could get you out of the way, he could prove that he was the ultimate warrior and easily take Velzix's place. He soon found out how poor his judgment was, when your sister personally slew him on the battlefield and his now undead shell serves her every whim and take her every abuse. Sinthinia broke off her so called alliance with you, and somehow managed to ingratiate herself back in Velzix's good graces. Perhaps your actions really have put the fear into them. Indeed there is less infighting occurring in Velzix's Realm nowadays.

This new unified front the demons have put up is the only thing that's really giving you problems as of late. Get them to start fighting amongst themselves again and you'll be able to roll over them.

You were here first. You're going to rule this world, nobody else.

You get an idea. You know the demons hate your new Hellbred creations yet you're pretty sure Velzix wouldn't mind having some on his side. He's merely using this new found unity to his advantage, just like he'd use your creations to his advantage as well.

You decide to stage a small revolt, though you're not telling anyone about it. Only you'll know the truth. You figure your sister would be the best one to start with since it's well known how much she loathes you even amongst the enemy.

The first revolt in the Dominion is set off by your sister. She slays several of your mortal servants, some of them even necromancers. Undead die by the droves. You could care less. This is for a greater goal and after all, you'll just raise them again later. The second revolt occurs next and then another. By the end of the month several of your Hellbred warriors have rebelled and some have even acquired small contingencies of mortal followers.

All of this grabs Velzix's attention. He moves in to take your weakened areas, but he also sends feelers out to these rebel Hellbreds. Since this was supposed to be impossible he's very interested to see if he can use them against you…

Excellent the first part of the plan is set.

He has Sinthinia approach them, as he's still too smart to directly face them. The cowardly demon lord hasn't left his magically fortified inner chamber in years. Of course Sinthinia has her own personal guards approach them first since she's not risking her life either. Of course the Hellbreds act appropriately hostile and suspicious, but mention how much they hate being used as your pawns and how arrogant you were to think that you could control them just because you created them. They want nothing more than your death.

That response is enough for Velzix to start offering them positions in his armies. They accept of course. At first they're just kept to their own units, but after Velzix wins some territory from you (More than he has in years) he realizes their efficiently would be better spread out to maximize there fighting skills and strategic minds. He begins to have them lead demon contingencies.

This doesn't go over well.

Part two of the plan has come about.

Soon the demons begin to resent Velzix's decision. Saying that he's favoring these Hellbreds over them. Velzix tell them he'll do what he wants as he's the leader and what he says goes. Sinthinia doesn't like this either and mentions that he's stirring trouble by pursuing this course of action and she doesn't like the fact that she can't sense what they're thinking or feeling like a normal (or not so normal) living creature, but Velzix insists he's doing the right thing since he's winning the war against you now.

It doesn't take long before the demons revert back to their chaotic natures and start getting disobedient with their new Hellbred "companions". Now you have your Hellbred stop holding back and lash out which they do in violent ways. This of course causes the death of several Hellbreds, but these acts cause a greater spiral of destruction.

Demons begin fighting among themselves again, arguing that Velzix doesn't know what the fuck he's doing and isn't worth following since he trusted these creatures to lead. Velzix has REAL rebellions going on all over his Realm. Portions of it begin to split away from the whole and several demons begin forming their own warlord domains. Domains that you easily conquer as you bring your full unified force to bear. Eventually Velzix's reputation isn't strong enough anymore and he can't bring enough reinforcements anymore to help, as the knowledge of his failures have spread even to the infernal planes. In fact he has to close up his portal just so other opportunistic demon lords don't come around to finish him off, he's having enough problems with you. You get the impression that Sinthinia had something to do with that as she disappeared soon after this elaborate deception came about. (Possibly her "parting shot" at Velzix who she never had any true loyalty to anyway and fled back to the infernal plane to save her own skin)

Now the endgame begins

Your sister storms Velzix's fortress with an army larger than the one used to storm the Zalan capitol ten years ago. You never even have to dirty your hands, and you heard he was slain with ease by your sister. When she presents his head to you, you do something you haven't done in a long time. Grant act of mercy.

"You've served me well dear sister, let this be your final reward."

You snuff out the tormented spirit inhabiting your sister which releases her from her painful servitude and allows her to die.

Now nothing stands in your way, Velzix's hasty actions of closing the portal have made things even easier for you. No longer do you have to deal with these interloping demons any longer. You've suffered their kind long enough. Even from the very beginning when Big Red gave you shit when you tried to buy a book on necromancy from him, how long ago that was...

You vow to have every last one of them killed.

[User] You godhood?

[Assistant]
Thirty years pass…

It's been fifty years since you set out on the path of darkness.

Every demon on this world has indeed been hunted down and killed. If any still exist, they've found the deepest darkest hole to hide in and you're even having those searched. Mortal resistance is non-existent. You've stomped out every wannabe hero/last hope/chosen one whenever they've presented themselves. Such idealism is the past. A few times there have been a few of your necromancer underlings that have attempted to have you killed, but such attempts are futile and the conspirators are typically caught, tortured and then killed.

Most mortals know better than to stand against you now though. You have done something remarkable in your cruel iron fist and that is the fact you've brought peace to the world at last. Nobody fights on any meaningful major scale anymore. All mortals, from the lowliest goblin to the haughtiest elf (Though there aren't too many of the latter left) all obey your terrible will and seek to become one of your many undead minions when they ultimately die. Their "afterlife".

They cannot hope to stand against no less than a god.

Are you a god though?

After all is it not you who drove the demons from the world?
Is it not you who created the Hellbred?
Is it not you who has achieved world peace?
Is it not you who is complete master of life and death?
Is it not you who continues to suffer your agonizing existence merely to give these fools some purpose in their lives?

Where are all the gods of "old" anyway? Why did they allow this to happen? Why have they not stopped you, if this was not destined to happen?

You're of the mind that the gods of this world either never existed or cowered in fear of your rising power and abandoned it long ago.

While you ponder these questions in the solitude of your study and decide that you ARE a god, you are suddenly visited by the contrary.

"Well, well, well, this turned out a lot better than I expected. I guess it was good I placed my faith in you…ha ha faith. Probably not the most appropriate word, but I can't think of a better one right now."

You turn around to see a face you thought dead long ago. Even you are surprised, and that rarely happens nowadays. How he got in here you have no idea.

"Big Red?"
"Yep, it's me."
"I saw you dead. Years ago."
"Oh that, yeah well let's just say that wasn't me or at least no the real me. Doesn't matter. This world is ready for the infernal plane."
"Excuse me? Just because you have somehow managed to cheat death, do not presume that you can challenge me. I am god here. This world is mine and mine alone."

Big Red laughs and then you feel a sudden paralysis over come you. Powerful magic is at work here and you can't do anything about it. Your anger rages.

"This world COULD'VE been yours, had you chosen a different path, tis true. But the day you came to me, was the day that path ended. I knew a change in this world was coming long before you showed up, and not necessarily one in my favor. The stench of death had risen once more just like in the days before the Great Lich Lord,. in fact I was already to haul my red ass back to the infernal realm. I already went through that shit once, didn't feel like dealing with it again. Mortals are certainly fun to be around, but the undead…never cared for them. If they were going to retake this world, I saw no point in staying. Demons are indeed assholes, but hey I can related to them."
"When I get free, I'm going to make you beg for death!" you yell while he continues his speech.
"However, when you came to me, I could sense the great power of necromancy flowing in you. Oh sure Mr. Demar and his motley crew THOUGHT they were dark wizards, but their power paled in comparison to what I sensed in you. I thought about killing you right then and there to stop the possible dead onslaught, but then I thought why do that, when I can bend and taint you to infernal purposes?"
"You didn't do shit! I DID THIS ALL!"
"I'm sure you think so, and that's exactly what I wanted you to believe. Those necromantic books you took from my place when you found my dead body were infused with hell magic, secret languages from my home. Of course if you had been a little more experienced in such matters you might've caught on, but you were too eager to start raising the dead to not realize that the seeds were slowly taking root in your mind. I watched you turn slowly away from the purity of death and begin to consort with demons. The moment you allied with that blowhard Velzix I knew then the seeds had taken started to bloom."
"NO! You're lying!"
"It was a good thing that my plan worked too, because it stunted your potential power. The purity of your unnatural link to the dead was spoiled and ultimately severed long ago. Who knows how powerful you could've gotten had I not intervened? Maybe you would've surpassed the Great Lich Lord. Why you might've ascended into godhood. Scary to think about the road not traveled eh?"
"LIAR! LIAR!"
"Well okay I can't take credit for ALL your decisions, but come on. When you began summoning tormented souls from the infernal realm, did you really think you could've gotten away with that without some kind of help? You were STEALING from Hell. Then when you transformed yourself you were going beyond normal hubris. Not even our kind has the balls to defy Hell itself. You wouldn't believe how hard it was to convince the high ups to let you get away with it. Your Hellbred experiment made things even worse, but in the end it was all worth it. Hell's getting an entire world in return and their stolen souls back."

This revelation…you don't want to believe it, but somehow the hard reality is crashing down upon you, and the paralysis wears off and you suddenly feel completely drained as you fall to the floor.

"No…no…I was in control the whole time…I'm just…just a puppet…a slave…"
"We're ALL slaves to Hell, my dead friend. Its just all of the question how high up you are in the hierarchy you are. You might've been allowed some leniency, and been allowed to be my second in command, but as I said your grand theft soul displeased the high ups. So you gotta pay. Pay dearly I'm afraid. Shame really, you really were quite efficient at your work, but having someone like you around would've been dangerous to my well being anyway. I think Sinthinia will be more fun than you'd be as well. She's proved a most useful spy and saboteur through this whole endeavor. She was the one who told you to look behind the toilet for the necromantic books fifty years ago after all."

Its just one deception upon another as the plot has unfolded to prove how you were lead down the path to Hell. Now there's just one more thing as you're crumpled miserably on the floor hoping that all of this is some bad dream, but of course when Big Red crouches next to you and grabs your wrist this is all too real.

"It's been said time and time again, but you chose to ignore it. You don't change Hell, Hell changes you. And it's changed not only you, but this world as well. Time for both of you to come home necromancer."

And with these last words, the entire world is transported into the infernal plane where Big Red is allowed to run it as he sees fit. All your undead and Hellbred are destroyed instantly as your powers are stripped away immediately. Hell gave you your powers, and now it's taking them away. Drawing back ALL its energy it ever gave you.

You now lay in some forsaken deep pit of Hell completely helpless. You have nothing to defend yourself against the demonic torments that you now suffer. Physically, mentally and especially spiritually.

Your punishment is eternal and not even the power of death can save you.


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

[User] You negotiate some more

[Assistant]
Velzix isn't pleased that you're attempting to negotiate with him. He feels he's given you a fair deal, and he begins to raise his voice at what he considers to be your outrageous demands.

Of course this doesn't help since it causes some of your fellow students to come wondering what's going on and hoping Velzix hasn't escaped.

"Hey! What're you doing here! You're not even a demonologist!" one of them yells.
"Weak minded fool was probably tempted by Velzix's voice."
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. I never said anything to him, he wandered down here on his own accord, and started talking to me about striking a deal of some kind." Velzix says with a smile.
"I DID NOT!" you protest.

Your protests don't do too much to help you though. The rest of the students decide you're either lying, or you don't have the mental strength to resist the temptations of Velzix. And in either case you're a liability that they can't afford.

You're struck by several lightning bolts and your corpse is completely burned black before you even fall to the ground.


[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 need a hint

[Assistant] It's not all that hard, just remember that you can only take one person in your boat at a time and never leave the brother alone with the killer, or the killer alone with the witness.


[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 fix the Shelter

[Assistant]
You're not about to abandon your home, besides the surface is probably still unsafe who know what the hell awaits you up there. You begin working on fixing things starting with the water controls. Apparently Miranda was trying to turn off your dispenser, but only succeeded in turning off the water to your bathroom facilities.

About five hours in, your lighting goes out again. You're about to check it, then they come back on. You then hear the TV turn on by itself, with nothing but static. When you leave the computer room to see what's going on personally, the door slams shut. Then water dispenser turns on and leaks water all over the floor for awhile and then ceases. You go over to check it and your heart stops when you can't get it work. The food one doesn't work either. You begin to panic and then the door to the computer room opens up again.

Seizing the opportunity you run back in to fix whatever the hell is suddenly turning your shelter haywire, when on the computer screen you see in big letters.

*VIRUS ENACTED! ERROR! ERROR! TOTAL SYSTEM SHUT DOWN!*

You try to do something, but the hard drive is now completely fucked and all you get is error messages constantly appearing all over the screen. Miranda managed to send her virus before you could disconnect and though it took awhile, it's finally taking effect now, spectacularly.

The lighting goes out, the room door slams shut, the computer screen goes black and you're left in complete darkness and silence with no hope whatsoever. Miranda's threat has come true and this Shelter has become your tomb. Now you're left to die a slow lingering death.

It doesn't do any good to scream, but you do anyway.


[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 ... Then let it go. Best to get out of here while they're gone.

[Assistant]
Your hand falls from your sword. "Let's go, Bertrand. We've got time while they're distracted to beat a hasty retreat."

"But sir," Bertrand begins to interrupt before you silence him by holding up your hand.

"I don't want to hear it. Get going."

Hesitantly, Bertrand nods and spurs the horses on. They walk past the overturned carriage and continue down the road. The woman's screams penetrate the otherwise silent countryside, until they are finally silenced.

Nightfall comes sooner than you'd like. You're forced to set up camp for the night along the road, but you can see Castle Oren in the distance. You'll be there not long after you get up in the morning.

Your blade rests in your lap as you clean it with a rag and some water. Bertrand stirs the fire with a stick, then frowns at you. "We should have helped her."

"Hrm," you hum.

"The man I agreed to work for would have saved her. What the hell even happened to you?"

You sigh, shaking your head. "I don't know. I'm just not that kind of man anymore." You pause, and trace a finger along the flat of your blade. "... Just an old dog called in to do the king's dirty work. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no more heroes in this world Bertrand, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner life gets easier."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

A mirthless chuckle escapes your lips. "Maybe I don't. Can you blame me, though? I'm just a bitter old drunk. It'd be best if you just ignored what I say."

Bertrand sighs. "... I should be turning in now. I suggest you do too." He gets up from the fire and lays down on a blanket he has sprawled out, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep in moments. You watch his sleeping form for a moment, before setting your sword down and laying on your own blanket. Though you toss and turn for a bit, exhaustion takes over and you fall into your first dreamless sleep in years.

In the morning, you and Bertrand pack your things up and begin the last stretch to the Castle.


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

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
You know Mom's just looking out for the best interest of your sister, and you say as much. Your Mom looks a little surprised as does your sister, who then gets really angry.

"Fuck the both of you! You don't know me! You're a fucking cold hearted bitch who's wallowing in her own loneliness and you're her fucking lap dog who does everything she says!" you sister screams.

"Maybe because he actually cares about my feelings! Unlike you, you little slut!" your Mom says and then slaps her. Your sister looks like she might attempt to slap your Mom back, but your presence stops her. Instead she runs out the door, with one last comment.

"I'm leaving this fucking house of insanity! The both of you two can go straight to hell!" she says slamming the door.

Your Mom waves her hand in disgust and then turns to you.

"Thanks for taking my side. You're such a good son." She says and then hugs you, you return the gesture.

"Okay now head off to school, I have to go to work."

[User] You ask Mom to drive you

[Assistant]
Your Mom again looks surprised, but also a little happy.

"Well okay, its on my way to work. Are you sure you want me too though? Won't it embarass you in front of your friends?"

Mom sure doesn't know you very well at all. You don't really have any. Of course even if you did, you wouldn't care.

Your Mom drives you to school just like you remember she used to when you were little. She always seemed a lot happier back then. She almost looks that happy again right now.

As she drops you off, she lets you out, but before she does, she kisses you goodbye...on the lips.

As she drives off, you're left feeling a little strange. You've never been very emotional, but something in you has changed. You head to your classes a little preoccupied, until Jessica comes up to you in computer class.

"Hey, can you help me with this?" she asks.

[User] You help Jessica

[Assistant]
You kind of don't want to think about your Mom kissing you the way she did. It makes you uncomfortable. You take the opportunity to help Jessica to take your mind off of things.

As you help Jessica, she thanks you and becomes more friendly. She says she's always wondered about you, since you're very different than your sister who she's friends with. You open up a bit more than you normally would probably because you're still trying to get your mind off of Mom.

Its probably what makes you blurt out asking Jessica for a date after school. Jessica's a little surprised, but accepts.

When the class ends you realize you've just recieved a date with the one girl who seemed to stir some emotions in you. You begin to shake and rush to the bathroom to throw up. This is all a lot to take in. Your Mom kissed you on the lips and now you have a date with the girl of your dreams for all intense and purposes. You don't feel very hungry so you spend your lunch hour working on something for another class.

You attend the rest of your classes and eventually school comes to an end, and Jessica meets you outside.

Your emotions are all mixed up and your mind is going a mile a minute.

[User] You take her home

[Assistant]
You tell her you want her to meet your Mom. You still got her on your mind. You have to show her that what she wants can't occur! And by bringing Jessica home, you'll be able to show that. Of course you're really nervous about what's going to happen. You barely manage to keep yourself from throwing up again.

Jessica meanwhile is a little puzzled by your choice of "date" but agrees. You get home and you and Jessica talk for a little while longer getting to know each other better, but still in the back of your head you worry about Mom.

Then she arrives. And she looks really surprised to see you with a girl in the house. Speechless in fact.

[User] You introduce Jessica

[Assistant]
You muster up all your inner strength and introduce Jessica to Mom.

Mom is surprisingly cordial. You don't get it, you thought she'd be mad. Maybe she realized that what she wanted to pursue with you was wrong, and is glad you found someone to be with in a healthy relationship. Your nervousness decreases almost completely. Your Mom leaves you and Jessica alone, your previous niceness to her has put her in a good enough mood to let you have some fun, especially since you don't cause much trouble.

Eventually you take Jessica home, and despite having a rather strange first date, she agrees to see you tomorrow and you promise to really take her somewhere.

You go home thinking about today's events. You still have a great deal of devotion to your Mom, but are glad it wasn't taken to THAT level. You wonder though, Jessica looks a lot like your Mom when she was younger. Is that why you were attracted to her?

You don't want to dwell on that too much! You go to bed.

Another day arrives and you feel slightly warped...


[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 suggest you all go outside then and discuss it there. You can get close to them that way and attack now!

[Assistant]
"Well why don't we all go out for our chat them!" You suggest "We could sit up on the silo behind them so they could be a part of the discussion while staying on duty."

The two look at each other but you see Cara wavering in your favor and push it a little "It's not as if it will be any more dangerous and I haven't exactly seen the sun in a few days" You say and immediately see the guilt working. Cara agrees and you all head outside. The guards are not so easily won over though. As you exit they spread apart. They are still close enough either side to hear what is happening and take part but they are no longer close enough to attack at the same time. You have to time your attack perfectly. You make a show of offering Cara your hand to help her out and onto the silo roof then with a flourish do the same for Chris who gives you a wry laugh, one of the guards even smirks about it, but only for a moment as you suddenly lunge at him and tackle him down.

You are faster and stronger than any human so it is only a couple of seconds before his neck is snapped and you are back to your feet, spinning to charge the other guard. Sadly it seems they did not survive this long without skills and the second guard is already pointing his gun at you.

You just have time to take in the horror and tears in Cara's eyes and the immediate revulsion in Chris and the guards before you hear the boom and feel the impact on your chest. You stumble back but hear the click click of a bolt action, you look up in time to take the second shot to the chest and tumble off the silo railing. You are almost grateful that you die before you hit the ground.


[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 say "You need to cooperate with Garyn"

[Assistant]
You wonder how to put this in a way Orvyn will comprehend; he is not, after all, a man who enjoys playing nice. You decide to start cautiously

"You know, of course, that I do, and always will, trust you with my life"

Orvyn nods slowly, you continue

"You also know that I rely on you to maintain order and discipline amongst the men"

Again, Orvyn nods, his bright green eyes watching you carefully. You press on

"I need you to be an example to the men, be something they can look up to"

Orvyn runs a hand through his jet-black hair distractedly

"Aethelwulf, I've always done th-"

You wave him off, and cut to the point

"I can't have you arguing with Garyn. It's bad for moral, and it makes the men lose confidence in their leaders"

Orvyn's pale cheeks are tinged pink, he stares determinedly at his feet

"If my lord would rather put his trust in me then Garyn, he need only say so"

The coldness of his tone shocks you. You open your mouth to apologize, but Orvyn has already stalked off.


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

[User] You say "I'm here to escort Amadeus to Kyros' chambers!"

[Assistant]
"Bullshit. If Kyros wanted Amadeus, we would've got a message. Fuck off, rebel scum."

Well. That was unsuccessful.


[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 kill Alexa

[Assistant]
You step forward, as she smiles, assuming you've taken up her offer. Then, you swing your blade, beheading her in one quick move. Her head topples to the ground, and you smile. Three vampires in one night. Terrific.

You fall to your knees, tossing the sword aside as you breath out a sigh of relief. You take a deep breath, before grabbing your rifle from the ground and standing. You hear a howl from outside, leaning up against the wall and creeping along before you stare out the window. You see in the distance the sun beginning to rise. The werewolves begin howl, fleeing off towards the woods, not wanting to be caught around him when the transformation ends. You wait, watching as even the Alpha flees desperately away. You wait until the sun's light actually begins to shine on the courtyard, before walking out into the courtyard. You look up at the sun, feeling its warmth on your face, before you realize how absolutely exhausted you are. You collapse on the ground, staring up at the sky and feeling the warmth of the sun on your face.


[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] Three Years Later...

[Assistant]
Tribal

Life is hard. Kyros' scouring of the planet for resources has driven many plant and animal species that you once relied on for food extinct. You're required to travel even more constantly than you once did, as life is permanently tough and hath without much respite, and few luxuries.

The Orks are another issue. With the destruction and kidnapping of the tribes, they've spread extensively. While your newfound "tribe" are killing machines, it seems the Orks are never-ending. You push them back, though these battles are not without their losses, which you will take a while to get back from, which leads to another issue: reproduction.

You find yourself struggling to make up your numbers. The Goliaths are infertile, most not even having genitals. The tribals are more successful, but not by much. It seems Kyros' experiments have taken their toll. Infertility rates are high, as are the amount of miscarriages. A few manage, though, the offs of which increase when partnered with a non-tribal. The gladiators are the only ones who have great success here, as their numbers multiply as young, physically fit people do as young, physical fit people do.

Despite these issues, your tribe perseveres. You find a girl, a pretty gladiator with few scars and a gorgeous mane of fiery red hair. The fact that her breasts are the size of melons is coincidental to your attraction. You both eventually have a combination of an Uwais marriage and an Gladiator bonding ritual, which you nearly pass out during when you have to cut open the palm of your hand. If anything, Kyros' experiments have increased your fertility, as you soon find yourself with a child. The child seems perfect, having a strong body and a powerful mind, the best of both her parents.

It is this child that gives you hope. A child with the best of both her parents, who will weather any hardships the world. Your tribe are driving the Orks to extinction. The jungle is spreading again, and with it the planets and animals that you rely on. The present may harsh, but the future is forever hopeful.


[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 say "I will help the Old man, I owe him that much"

[Assistant]
You realize nearly instantly that this was a bad choice; you actually just told two harbingers that you would help their enemy try and kill them. You try and take it back but before you can open your mouth you feel the punch on your back and go sailing out into the air. Even with your toughness and healing ability you aren't going to come out well from a 60 story fall

You do however have time to think about your own foolishness on the way down before finally hitting the road below.


[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 attempt to break down the door

[Assistant] You press your hands on the door, and begin to melt through the thick steal, as steel drips to the ground. Suddenly, you feel your energy hit an odd texture, before the anti-personal defenses prepared their blows, tearing your head off.