[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 accept the offer

[Assistant]
You have to admit, the idea has crossed your mind a bit. A small part of you does wonder about embracing the whole hero image and deliberately doing grand deeds that go beyond the call of your duty. You suppose that you'd at least really feel like one if you did that.

"Okay Mr. Warnov. I'll do it." You exclaim.
"You sure?"
"Not really, but if I'm already in the shit, I might as well go all the way with it. What do I do next?"

Warnov looks around again to see if anyone is about before answering.

"Well just take a deep breath, relax and uh… brace yourself!"
"Huh?"

Before you can react Warnov moves faster than you've ever seen anything move. In fact you don't really see him move at all before he's biting your neck! He puts his other hand over your mouth so you can't yell out and easily knocks your hand away from feebly attempting to draw a weapon.

You fall into unconsciousness as your blood is drained from you at a rapid rate. Death soon follows…

A few minutes later you wake up outside the fort.

"Ah you're up. Sorry about surprising you like that, but I had to work quickly. Someone else could've popped up and that would've gotten complicated…"

You quickly check your neck which is completely healed now, but you know what's just occurred! You feel a cold numbness throughout your body and you freak out.

"I'M DEAD! I'M FUCKIN DEAD! And you're a vampire!"
"Shhhh! Keep your voice down! Yeah, you figured it out. Nice detective work, now let's get down to this hero business. Though we should really get to Rostov's and talk about all this."
"I'm…I'm dead! I'm one of you! I don't want to be an undead thrall for the Necromancer Lord!"
"What? No, no, no, we're not… look I'll explain later, let's just…"

You pull away from Warnov when he tries to help you up. You feel your reflexes are much quicker. This temporary curiousity in your new found abilities allows Warnov to calm you down.

"WAIT! Just stop! (Sigh) Okay look I'll try to give you the condensed version right now. We vampires aren't on the side of the Necromancer Lord. If anything he's fucking things up for us. We like to keep a balanced order as it were. The last time we sided with some megalomaniacal necromancer it nearly resulted in our extinction. Never again. In fact we've been manipulating shit for centuries just to make sure something like this didn't happen. Somebody really fucked up in the observation department on this one!"

Warnov goes on to explain that his superior, Lord Rostov will be able to explain better and in more detail, but that you have to come with him now.

[User] You go with Warnov

[Assistant]
While this is all a lot to take in, you manage to calm down.

"Okay. Okay. I'm calm, but…man this is a lot of shit." You reply.
"Heh, well you did say you might as well go with it! Don't worry; it'll all be second nature soon. Okay let's go see Lord Rostov."

Warnov pulls out a black cube and teleports you to what seems to be the inside of a castle.

"Alright, YOU stay right here in the foyer! Don't go wandering around, I'm serious! You're not quite in the fold yet, I have to go straighten this out and explain all this to Lord Rostov. I'll be back to come get you later. Everything will be explained in full detail soon."

Not wishing to piss off anyone and being completely out of your element you stay put. The foyer has enough to keep you occupied though, you begin examining many of the paintings and statues to pass the time.

Soon, Warnov returns with a very regal looking vampire. You can only assume that this is Lord Rostov.

"Welcome, I'm sure you have ask many questions for me as I have for you, so we'll just get right to it. We'll walk and talk on the way to the throne room. Don't worry about anyone listening. There are no secrets here." Lord Rostov says.
"Okay…I…"
"BUT! Remember to address me as Lord Rostov if you are going to address me by name." Lord Rostov adds with authority.

You take notice and obey, though Lord Rostov has such a commanding presence that you would be hard pressed not to obey him.

Your questions are typical for someone brought into the fold. Rostov goes on about how his kind have been manipulating the mortal world for centuries just like Warnov said before. Several of the known governments have at least one vamp keeping an eye on things. Apparently many high ranking political types in your own Zalan Empire are vampires! The Grand Alliance is even a tool of the vampires.

While Lord Rostov goes on about this fascinating history lesson, you look at some of his "court" as you walk through his castle. Some of them are more "mortal looking" than others. Some look down right hideous. You always thought vampires were supposed to be ultra attractive, but you can see that isn't necessarily the case. When you get to his throne room Lord Rostov stops and turns to you.

"So I hear you want to be a real hero eh? Well this is the place where they're made."
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you think most heroes are always storming dungeons and doing impossible things? They don't get those abilities without some help. The supernatural skill comes into play and dungeons aren't exactly beacons of light!" Lord Rostov laughs.

"Y…you mean ALL the heroes in the world are vampires?!"
"Hah! I wish that was the case. No, there are many regular mortal heroes that do their part I suppose, but if you want the really legendary ones that have done impossible deeds, well chances are there was a vampire involved. Sadly we haven't been too much more successful than the mortals in the heroics department lately."
"What's been going on exactly?"
"That little annoying necromancer lord, or whatever he thinks he is, has been proving to be a lot cleverer than what was previously believed. His armies have been growing in strength and I'm sure you know about the undead giant business and crushing the Brot Kingdom. What isn't commonly known is how he accomplished it. He had help from one of our kind. A loathsome outcast known as the Ghoul King. (Sigh) Should've killed him long ago really, but…bah, it's a long story. We'll deal with him when the time comes. What's more alarming is that we've sent assassins…or heroes to kill the necromancer lord and his bitch and he's somehow managed to kill all of them. I mean I can somewhat understand them being killed by that brutish demon tyrant Velzix, but a fucking necromancer? He's a fucking mortal! And from what we know of him, he wasn't even that good of a wizard to begin with!"

Suddenly Lord Rostov flies into a rage, yelling and punches a hole into the solid brick wall. Many of his court, as well as you and Warnov back away. He then stops and composes himself.

"My apologies to you all. It's been a trying time with upstart mortals and traitors and other annoyances. And to you, the newest member of our fold."
"Uh, no need to apologize to me Lord Rostov. It's your home after all" You say which causes him to smile.
"Carefully chosen words. Not overly sycophantic, yet still displaying the right subservient mindset. You should fit in very well here."
"But I meant it…"
"Ha ha! And honest too! You're more interesting than how Warnov described you. I have heard that you were one of those minor mortal heroes I was talking about earlier, but more interesting to me, is apparently you have talent in the musical field?"
"So I've been told."
"Well, play something for me! All of us!"
"What did you want to hear?"
"Surprise me, if you're able!"

Lord Rostov sits on his throne while his court whispers among themselves and then go quiet waiting for you to play. You pull out your lute and try to think of a song that they might like. You think of an old song that once was very popular among the aristocracy. Seems like a perfect crowd…

You begin to concentrate on the music and nothing but the music. You play as if your life was in danger, which you're somewhat certain that it isn't, but it doesn't hurt to play your best right now.

Your new supernatural reflexes certainly come in handy as you're able to hit notes and play faster than you normally would've been able to as a mortal.

When you're finished you look around the room which is still silence until Lord Rostov gets off his throne and begins clapping. Everyone else follows suit.

"That was magnificent! I heard the original bard who performed that piece three hundred years ago and even he couldn't have done a better job! Warnov, this man is too valuable to make into a hero!"
"Lord Rostov?"
"While this man may have combat skills as you described, he is obviously a musician! Such talent such not be wasted in battle! Beautiful playing!"
"While I agree he is a good musician Lord Rostov, I think we should consider the matter of the necromancer…"
"(Sigh) Warnov, I was feeling good until you mentioned that mortal again! Nevertheless you are right. But still, this shall be HIS choosing. Not ours."

Lord Rostov turns to you.

"The decision shall be yours broodling. You may if you wish under go extensive training to prepare yourself for an encounter with that little necromancer lord. If you succeed, your name will be known, and you will become a legend. However, I can sense that such things are probably not your nature. Music is. I can see that you would be content to just play your music for an appreciative crowd. You could do that here. You could also learn songs that I have possession of, but sadly unable to play with the same spirit that you obviously have."
"What about my family? And my job and all that?"
"Ah, your mortal life. I'm sure Warnov will already be taking steps to explain that you have been transferred from your current assignment. Considering he's part of intelligence, nobody will ask too many questions, even if they bothered to. As for your family, they will be taken care of as you will still officially be part of the Zalan army. If you wish you may stay in contact with them through letters. Possibly arrangements can be made for you to visit them. During the night of course. But under NO circumstances will you tell them about any of this. Doing so would ruin my generous offer and be extremely bad for you. I don't think we need to dwell on such depressing things because I know you're smarter than that right?"
"Yes Lord Rostov."
"Good, now what is it that you would like to do?"

[User] You be a hero

[Assistant]
While the offer of playing for what could possibly be eternity is tempting, part of you has been affected by world events and the war going on. You have come to realize that the Necromancer (and the demons) need to be stopped. If you can take an active role in that, then you'll know for sure that your family will be safe in the near future. You did do all this for your family after all, and while your path has definitely undergone a change, you're still going to put them first.

Besides, you're a vampire now, you're sure that you'll have tons of time to play later if all goes well. You're definitely nervous about this decision, but you're going to make it.

"Lord Rostov, I wish to begin your advanced combat training." You say.
"Very well, though I almost hoped that you wouldn't. Your playing was just divine and you won't be able to play again for a long time during your extensive training time. Possibly never if you fail…but let us hope that you do not fail! It would be a loss for all of us. Warnov escourt him to the lower dungeons."
"Yes, Lord Rostov."

Warnov takes you into the lower dungeons of the castle just as Lord Rostov commanded. Warnov tells you that this isn't going to be easy and that you better condition your mind to almost a pure instinctive level because you could very well die in training!

Finally you reach a large barren room with a pair of large doors on the far end.

"This is it. Just keep an eye on the large door over there and well, brace yourself!"

You half expect to get bitten again after hearing those words, but instead Warnov quickly steps out of the room and locks the door leaving you alone. The large doors on the other side of the room start to open.

And you just realized that you don't have a weapon…

A year passes…

You survive your rigorous training. You have fought all manner of dangerous beasts with and without weapons. (And feasting on their blood for survival) You have undergone pain you didn't think possible even in your new undead state. You're definitely a better killing machine than you were.

You were allowed to write letters to your family which were overlooked first by Lord Rostov of course to make sure you weren't saying something you shouldn't. You barely know what to tell them except keeping your lies to a minimum about your supposed new job with Zalan intelligence. You have dedicated and conditioned yourself to combat so much that you don't even think about music. You briefly wonder if you've "lost" something, but you then dismiss such things as you must focus on battle.

During this time you have been informed that the Necromancer Lord as well as Velzix have grown in power. Lord Rostov says though that he believes the demons will pose no serious threat if a concentrated effort can be made on them by the mortals. However, for that to happen, the Necromancer Lord must die and that's where you come in and what you've been training for.

However, you won't be going in by yourself. A band of "heroes" will be necessary for a job like this. You are told you will meet the others in a small abandoned village bordering on the Necromancer's Domain.

Another vampire takes you there with the aid of a black teleportation cube. This is a one way trip. You're not coming back unless you win. That and the fact that the black cubes can't possibly be allowed to fall into enemy hands.

There you meet the others. They look unimpressed with you, but you're a little surprised to see one of them. She's very well known…a "hero".

"You're Deliah the Deathdealer! You fought at the battle of Azark and you also retrieved the Celestial Sword! You're a hero! I didn't know you were…"
"Didn't they tell you all this shit when you started training? Sheesh, we gotta get paired up with some broodling…" a brutish vampire interrupts.
"Quiet Gorax! I'm sure he was, but meeting a legend is a lot different from basking in their glory in person." Deliah replies.
"Gorax!? Gorax the Mighty? You were a barbarian king that held back the orc hordes over a hundred years ago!" you say in amazement.
"Huh, fat lot good that did me. I can't take any credit for of my deeds today and barely anyone remembers my past deeds except some useless tribal shamen that now cower from the undead hordes in the Drozz Plains. Feh! Back in my day such men would not allow mere ghouls run them off their lands! I don't know why Rostov won't allow me to go in, seek out, and just chop off that retched Ghoul King's head! He's partially to blame for this mess!"
"Oh you know Rostov, he has his reasons. Besides, if we take out the Necromancer lord, the Ghoul King will probably be our next assignment." Another vampire says in a bored tone. This one looks like he was once a Halfling. It almost makes you laugh to think of a vampire Halfling, but there he is. You don't know who he is or was, but given the other two, he was probably important at one time.

"So are you ready to go broodling? Or are you going to stand there with a dumb look on your face?" Delilah asks.
"Uh sure, let's go!"

The trip into the Necromancer's Domain is surprisingly quick and uneventful. You attempt to make conversation as you can't help now but be curious about your companions, but all of them are less than talkative and forthcoming. Deliah eventually takes you aside harshly.

"Look broodling, we've got a job to do. A fucking dangerous one at that! We all need to be in focus and not concentrating on anything else! So keep your damn questions to yourself and if you happen to survive this encounter THEN perhaps you may get a little more information from us and our fascinating history. Until then, stay in the fucking dark!"

The rest of the trip is silent.

At last you reach the city of Nuro and easily scale its walls and onto the battlements while remaining undetected the whole time. This is a lot different from what it was when you arrived here as a mortal. That memory still gives you a bit of pause. You remember how scared you were back then.

"Hurry up broodling! These walking corpses might not be able to detect us, but the Necromancer will soon! We need to get the advantage as soon as possible! Gorax, Wally you go through the front of the main tower. I'm sure you two can handle that. While whatever guards rush to defend their master, me and the broodling will scale the tower and go in through one of the top windows.

"You sure about that Delilah? Would you rather I go with you than some broodling?" Wally asks.
"Yeah, but if I leave him with Gorax he'll probably get killed in the fighting and be useless. At least if he's with me, he can serve as an extra body for the Necromancer Lord to draw his attention to."
"HEY! I'm right here y'know!" you exclaim indignantly which causes Deliah to smack you in the face hard. You didn't even see it coming.
"Shut the fuck up! You'll draw attention! Look if we pull this off just maybe you'll come out of this alive. I need you to take care of the Necromancer's bitch anyway. She's probably up there with him. Now let's do this!"

The plan is set into action. Gorax and Wally make their presence known immediately jumping off the battlements and into the courtyard while yelling at the top of their lungs.

"Intruder! Protect the master!" you hear a scratchy voice yell in the distance, while you and Delilah sneak around, jumping onto the rooftops and attempting to avoid the main fighting force. A few flying shadows try to stop you, but they're easily dispatched with your bow and silver arrows. Delilah looks glad that you aren't entirely useless and you and her proceed to scale the walls.

"I can't believe this place isn't more protected." You say while climbing.
"Heh, he's got his troops all spread out and mostly on his borders, plus he's grown more arrogant and confident. That will be his undoing." She replies quickly.

"Funny I was about to say the same for you bloodsuckers." A voice says causing the both of you to look up.

A raven haired female leans over the nearby window above Delilah and blast her directly in the face burning it off with a beam of light. You certainly weren't expecting a necromancer to cast any sort of spell like that! You then see Delilah fall…and get impaled through the chest by a weathervane. A fucking weathervane. Unbelievable.

You attempt to scale the wall to the nearest window under you and just barely get out of the way of the lady necromancer's next spell.

You have no idea where you are in the tower, but you can hear fighting going on outside and a couple of hearty roars which you can only guess is Gorax.

A quick scan would indicate that you're in some sort of library. You cautiously proceed and decide that finding stairs that lead up would be the way to go. You just hope you're ready to take him on and his mistress.

As you make your way through, you fight all manner of undead sentries: Wraiths, ghosts, skeletal warriors, etc. During one of your moments of hiding a couple of wight guards run by talking in a hoarse tone.

"The big one and little one are dead! We must find the last one! Quick Quick!"
"Yes Yes! The master must be protected!"

You come to the very real feeling of having been in the position before…all alone, surrounded by hostile undead, and in Nuro…

Your resolve breaks a little and you wish that you weren't here. You want to go home.

Eventually you push yourself forward, but somehow fear has crept back into your own dead heart. To your credit you do reach the top of the tower, but the Necromancer's mistress once again surprises you. A ray of light sears your face off and destroys your vision. You fall to the cold stone floor in extreme pain and can only make out blurry images.

You see a blurred black hooded figure approach. You can't see his face, but this could only be who you think it is. You attempt to reach for your sword.

"More assassins? I swear something is going to have to be done about these bloodsuckers. The Ghoul King's kin are really starting to get on my nerves. These ones weren't even a challenge. What are you doing bloodsucker? Don't you know that's futile?"

The Necromancer Lord unleashes a ball of flame that engulfs your body, putting an end to your undead existence.


[System] Narrate a dark fantasy text adventure. The setting is harsh and morally complex. Describe scenes vividly, react to player choices with fitting consequences, and never shy away from the reality of the world.

[User] You go out the window

[Assistant]
You panic! You don't know what came over you. It was just her constant nagging, her verbal abuse, it just got to the point where you couldn't take it anymore. You don't want to kill anyone else.

As you attempt to go out your window, but your sister is already up the stairs and sees what you've done. She also calls out to you.

"Stop! You don't need to run away! Its okay. Just come back inside."

[User] You listen to your sister

[Assistant]
You stop to listen to your sister, you're still scared and panicked, but she's never caused you harm.

"Its okay I understand, you just couldn't take it anymore. Look what she did to you...okay, I know what to do. You just have to stay calm for me okay?" she says.

You shake and tremble, but you nod your head. She tells you she's going to leave for a little while, but she'll be back. You don't want her to go, but she says she has to, if she's going to help. You reluctantly agree.

After sis leaves, its just you alone in the house with Mom's dead body.

[User] You try to hide it

[Assistant]
Weird scenarios enter your head in your state of panic. What if some insistant vaccum salesman knocks on the door and demands to demonstrate his product? Or maybe someone checking for Radon levels in the house?

You have to hide the body!

You pick Mom up, trying to figure out where to put her. You decide your closet, unfortunately your closet is full of crap, so you attempt to stuff her in there throwing your entire body into it. As you begin to breathe hard, you catch the fragrence of the perfume still lingering on her body, you notice her dress has been lifted up as you've been attempting to shove her in your closet. You're aroused as you also notice you're positioned between her legs, you begin to have BAD thoughts as you stroke her thighs.

You can't stop yourself...

During this completely immoral act, you don't feel panic anymore, you feel power. Total power. All that shit she did to you, you're returning in kind. Now YOU have the power over her. You feel so fuckin' alive!

As you finish up, you hear your sister come back home.

[User] You demonstrate your power again

[Assistant]
You calm yourself, quickly get your pants back on, and head downstairs.

Your sister seems to have gone shopping for "body disposing" supplies. How thoughtful. She explains that Mom's body could be disposed of, and it sounds like sis has thought about killing the bitch herself, but was too weak to do it. Her weakness sickens you...

You grab the shovel and smash your sister in the face with it until you're pretty sure she's not moving anymore. You feel that orgasmic rush again. No panic at all this time. No fear. Just a release.

You've at last realized your repressed emotions have never really been repressed. You just don't have any, at least not in the traditional sense. You only feel rage and loathing for those who would try to control you and contempt and disgust for those weaker than you. You only feel happy when you kill. And you want to feel happy ALL the time...

You pack up as much of your things as you can and prepare to leave for the road tomorrow.

Tomorrow arrives and you feel unrelenting hate...


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

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
"So I can leave?" you ask suspiciously.

"That's another question."

"The question game's over."

"Well if the game's over, of course you may leave. You should probably go assist your allies in finishing this fight. I'll continue assisting as I can. Unfortunately, Kyros has made sure to have personal control over some features, like life support in his personal chambers, so fighting him will be your burden."

"How do I get there?" you ask.

"The Techpriests and their allies in the area are all but destroyed. Unsurprisingly, they had a lot of technology; combat tentacles, tools, weaponry, which easily became mine. There's a certain poetic element when the Techpriests tear themselves apart, their machines separating themselves from the flesh once more. The camera's indicates that you'll be able to link up with the spearhead of your forces as they fight their way into Kyros' lair. You should arrive just behind the soldiers they are currently fighting. How fortunate. It seems to me the leaders of your forces are, to my, fighting in the actual battle and leading the charge. What fools."

"Which way do I go?" you ask, standing.

"Head directly down the path until I tell you."

"How will you tell me?" you ask.

"I am the ship now. Most of the vital areas have cameras and speakers that I can see and talk through. Admittedly, much of it is blind to me, but the important sections can be seen as easily as you can see me. I'll simply speak through my new speakers," Primus says. "I'd quite like to feel my new form purged of the enemy. Go."

You nod, turning and jogging through the halls. You quickly break a sweat, and switch to levitating and flying along the has, inches from the ground, which takes relatively little energy.

"This way," Primus deep, monotone voice says from a speaker, and you turn to head down that hallway.

You quickly see what became of the Techpriests. Their cybernetic implants shake and move on the floor, beeping and buzzing as they continue slamming into their now bloodied, mutilated and dead owners. Suddenly, you hear a voice.

"Ah, my head hurts, and I'm an incorporeal being lacking a head. What the fuck happened?" Meliodas says.

"Anti-psyker tech or some shit. Doesn't matter. We're fine now," you respond.

Soon, after a few minutes of running, you come out of the hallway, finding yourself behind a heavy barricade of super-soldier space marines fending off the charging Goliaths, Gladiators, Tribals, Guardsmen, Chaos soldiers and your other allies. You walk forward, raising your hands as you clench them into fists. You fire a beam of energy and cutting an Undying Reaper in half. Chapter Master Taj Suenage turns, seeing you as you crush an Undying Reaper's skull.

"Karth!" Taj yells, raising his war-hammer. "End it now!"

"You can join us, Suenage. Why are you loyal to Kyros? He's given you nothing but pain and torment."

"Pain and torment indeed. Why? Why did we betray the Imperium? Why did I betray the Emperor I loved so dearly? I tried to do what's right. Where has it left us?  The Undying Reapers are unhappy, without honor, and evil. I will follow Kyros into the mouth of hell itself, but only because it is hell we are going to. Did you think I expected to topple Terra? I am ready to die, tribal. But I will go like a Reaper, not a cur. Men! Do not touch Kyros! He is mine!"

Taj charges you, swinging his war-hammer.

"Yes! Let's spit death and fire, shall we?" Meliodas laughs.

[User] You fight defensively

[Assistant]
You quickly levitate over his blow, blasting him in the side of the head with a fireball. He pivots on his feet with remarkable grace, swinging again as you duck down, before Taj brings his knee up to hit you, but by now you've already quickly moved back to let out a spray of fire. He jabs the war-hammer as you now like a spear in an attempt to stun you, but you move away once more.

"Must we have this dance? Am I undeserving of a quick death?" Taj roars.

He steps towards you, raising the war-hammer once more, before his entire body begins to shudder as a hail of bullets thud into his back. He collapses to his knees, as you notice that the entirety of the Undying Reapers are finished off. Fay and fires a burst of lead into Taj's back. Castus strolls forward, pointing his sword point at Taj's face before gently slapping him with the sword flat, as Goliath clutches a space marine's throat in his hands, strangling the limo body.

"General! Good to see you're alive! Having fun?" Castus says, before kicking Taj in the head. "Ooh, that feels good. Remember me, Tucker? I remember you. You and your boys had a fun habit of organizing gladiator fights so you could kill some poor fuck, some poor gladiator. Look where we are now, shitbag."

"Finish it, Karth! I know you want to! I wiped out your tribe! I killed your..."

You clink your wrists, snapping Taj's neck.

"Goodbye, Taj," you say.

"Karth! Well done," Fay smiles.  "Is Cern...?"

"She's dead."

"Good, no more tinkering. Glad that bitch is dead. Hope she suffered," Goliath grunts.

"We're heading to take out Kyros," Fay explains. "I'd imagine you're all for that."

"Definitely. Let's go," you say.

You follow the group towards Kyros' chambers. Soon, you find yourself entering a massive doorway with huge steel doors, which are wide open. You find yourself at the bottom of a massive stairway.

"Stay back," you say to your companions. "This is a battle of the mind. Your strengths and talent hold no power here."

"I'm not leaving you alone. You can't expect us to sit back and wait," Fay says incredulously.

You clench your hand, lifting her into the air.

"Hey, let me down!" Fay says, kicking and struggling against the invisible bonds.

"See you soon, Fay," you say, forcing Fay to float outside the doorway.

Cain and Castus step outside of the doorway willingly. You flick your wrists, and the massive heavy doors slam closed. You turn, and begin climbing the stairs.

At the top of the staircase, four metal statues stand, forming a circle. One shows a bird man with a staff and ancient tome, cawing and firing a burst of magic out of the staff. The next shows a beautiful... person whose gender you can't tell, despite the fact they're half naked, smiling seductively at you. The next shows a massive, obese monster, covered in bile, boils and other signs of plague, looking to be in the final stages of dozens of different diseases. The final one is a horned beast-man, holding a massive battle-axe and in mid-furious, angered roar. In the middle of the circle kneels Kyros, waiting patiently.

"You took your time," Kyros says softly.

"I did," you say softly.

"Are the others dead? Taj and Cern?"

"They're dead."

"I see," Kyros says, staring at the statues. "I had the whole fucking Galaxy. I had a Gloriana-class battleship in my hands. A fucking Gloriana. Do you know how rare those are? How powerful?! This ship is worth more than a trillion of your pathetic lives!"

Kyros roars, smashing his fists into the statue of Khorne the warrior, adding psychic energy to his attacks until he dents, breaks and eventually sends the statue toppling off it's pedestal.

"I had an army! An Imperial Regiment, all their vehicles, all their firepower, all their might! I had a Khornate war-band, a Nurglite war-band, a Slaaneshi war-band, a Tzeentchian war-band, a fucking space marine chapter, and more!"

Kyros lets out a burst of fire, melting down the legs of the statue of Tzeentch the Sorcerer, turning into burning, molten metal that causes the rest of the statue to collapse and fall off its pedestal.

"I had two, fucking two army of super-soldiers. I had the capabilities to turn millions of recruits into super-soldiers that would've made the space marines look like PD-fucking-F!"

Kyros stands by the bloated statue of Nurgle the Plague-Master, and presses the palms of his hands against it. A wave of rust begins running through the statue, as it begins to rust and crack, before breaking and toppling to the ground, smacking into the metal floor with a hollow thud.

"I had powers that could've made the galaxy tremble! We could've conquered the galaxy! I had you, a powerful ally who could've helped me conquer the galaxy!"

Kyros lets out a powerful, shrieking roar that overwhelms your senses, causing you to stumble backward. The roar causes the legs of Slaanesh the Hedonist to shatter, as the statue tumbles off and smacks into the ground.

"We would've toppled the Imperium of Man and thrown the Emperor off his throne! We could've liberated trillions from the religious persecution, slavery, persecution and fascism that's being inflicted! We could've brought man to a new level! But you weren't willing to make sacrifices! You had to rise up with the rest of the greedy traitors, unwilling to work for the Greater Good! You took everything from me!"

Kyros turns to you, his eyes full of an anger and a hatred unknown to you.

"I lifted you from the dirt! I made you what you are! I gave you everything! You think I'm going to roll over and die?! I'm going to send this entire vessel, my vessel, headfirst into the Warp. I'm going to let this entire ship be taken by daemons. Why not? The only men loyal to me have been slaughtered. I'll let daemons slaughter the lucky ones. The unlucky, which given the strength of your soul will no doubt include you, will pluck the souls of their choice off and let them experience the ravages of the Warp and then to feed on your suffering. First... I'm going to break every bone in your body."

Kyros bursts forward, charging towards you. You raise a wall of fire, but Kyros barrels straight through, smashing into you. You both levitate into the air, your hands wrapped around each other's throats. Kyros knees you in the stomach, before sending you hurtling into the floor. You slam into it, curling up and forming a protective shield around yourself just as your "mentor" unleashes a wave of psychic energy. As soon as the last shudder of energy finishes, you release a burst of electricity that shocks Kyros, who howls in pain. You release a long burst of flames, engulfing him as he howls in pain. Kyros swings a lash of energy that you sidestep, before firing a beam of light that catches him in the chest, knocking him to the floor.

"I'm the superior fighter," you say.

Kyros raises his hands up, which begin to crackle with psychic energy. You feel your head pulse with the currents of the Warp. You grab a chunk of broken metal, instantly funneling heat into it as it begins to grow a bright red. He flings it at Kyros, catching him in the shoulder, sending him to the ground. You fire balls of plasma from your finger tips, which Kyros only barely manages to stop. Kyros begins to attain an otherworldly purple glow, his appearance begins to appear as see-through fading in and out of reality itself.

"I feel the Warp overtaking me! It is a good pain!" Kyros howls.

[User] You tackle Kyros

[Assistant]
You knock Kyros to the floor and tighten your hands around his throat. He begins to phase out, delving in and out of reality, and you fight to keep him grounded. The two of you teleport into the middle of the arena, while the trio of gladiators on guard immediately shit themselves and race for their guns. Warping out of reality again, you find yourself in an empty hallway. You know he's just going to keep teleporting as the Warp portals begin to form until you're both fucked. You need to do something.

"Fight! Fight, Karth!" Meliodas roars.

Feeling him begin to phase out, you quickly begin to send both you and him flying through the Warp to teleport once again, so you can choose the next destination in an attempt to end this cycle before it kills you both and everyone else on the ship.

Time to pick a destination.

[User] You outside the ship

[Assistant] You appear outside the ship, floating through space. You instantly feel the air sucked out of your lungs, your body freeze and boil as both you and Kyros writhe desperately. You don't last long in the cold vaccuim of space, but fortunately Kyros is too distracted as he dies to survive much longer.


[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 wait a second...

[Assistant]
You hold pout your hand. "Kelso, wait up."

He turns around, "Found something already?"

You look at David with an hungry grin, "Not what we're looking for, but good enough." You raise your voice, "David why don't you join us?"

The Zealot's eyes go wide, as he shakes his head and repeatedly says, "No." Over and over again. Kelso laughs, and slowly approaches the Zealot.

"What trap have you attempted to lure us to, son of the lord?" The last bit dripping with sarcasm. You take an unfortunate step toward him, when it all goes black for a moment.

You find your ears deafening as you tumble forwards, firey mines exploding from beneath your feet. You run across the landscape, fire erupting all around. You eye the Zealot, angry, and noticing him running away and talking to his... fist? Shit, why didn't I take away his reciever?

It's too late now, and it doesn't take long to reach the coward, but among this you find yourself looking on the optimistic side; if you didn't catch it earlier, who knew what would happen?

But you still fear what will happen now. You sprint behind him, barely overtaking him even with your flayed legs. You flick out your wrist, and throw your arm at him, your body almost falling with pain and missing him by an inch or so. Determined, you continue the arm motion, turning your arm around your body once again, twisting your body in a circle, gaining just enough momentum to slam your clawed hand at the back of his head. You feel his brain hitting the back of his head as he slumps to the sand, dead as can be.

You look around; Kelso is nowhere to be found. Your body feeling heavy, you realize that Zealots are approaching from afar, and you suddenly black out again, probably due to the heat...

[User] You wake up.

[Assistant]
An extremely... Blue, room is what you wake up to. Very bright, to the point you have to squint to make anything out. Worst of all, your skin begins to get irritated, and your efforts to get out of the chair seem to be futile. You scream, but your muscles seem to be neutralized. You simply can't get up.

"UV-lightning, like it?" Says a robed figure, appearing out of an opening of the wall. You hear a clanking noise and steam rises when the opening is closed, making the opening close, the room is glows with the calming blue. The robe the priest is wearing is also blue, with white stripes. You notice, from a slight creak in his robes, that he has some sort of shiny sword in there. For whatever reason, you feel it from several meters away, your stomach hurting. "Don't worry, that just means that it's working. You demons can't afford to be in the sun, so the closest thing to it would logically bother you in some way."

You notice that the bearded holyman, complete with a large blue skullcap, is terribly... Old. It's surprising he can move so much, with his crooked back and pruned face, the odd sort of shuffling he does to get closer to you is unnerving.

Noticing you not retorting, he continues, "Ah, but where are my manners? I, am Father Tomas." It takes a couple of minutes, but he manages to get hand-distance away from you. You struggle to even spit at the man, the lights dominating your will. He takes your hand in his, and shakes it against your will. "So, what's your name?"


[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 do your job without talking

[Assistant]
You keep walking, as the girl stays compliant. She does actually smell quite strongly of perfume. You lead her quickly to the castle's dungeons. You drag her down the stairs, before leading her into a prison cell. You lock the cell door, staring at her from behind the bars. She stares blankly ahead, leaning against the wall and sliding down to lean against it, her nightgown now covered in mud and dirt.

You leave her there, now secured, and end up heading to bed for a few hours sleep before Count Grey arrives back.


[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 keep Decena in Nyttrus

[Assistant]
Decena might be a good general, but without the extra resources from Nyttrus, your war machine efforts are not going to run as smoothly. You need her to keep on top of things there.

Which means you'll be leading the new Eternals into battle and that's fine by you.

You don't waste any time getting the rest of your plans underway. You figure a four-pronged attack will work suitably for the initial assault.

You have your fleet attack south Nakol from the sea and land troops there. You have the rest of your airships fly over the mountain range and bombard northern Nakol. Your kobold forces can dig under the large mountain range as usual. Finally you have the majority of your forces march through the mountain passes. You'll hold back your Eternals until the passes are completely under your control and no longer contested. It would probably be best to "test" the Nakol defenses located in the pass choke points anyway.

This is going to be a bit different from the conflicts in the past, your armies aren't going to be relying on any magic support at all. What few mages you have left are either overseeing the next Eternal tanks or are part of the Eyes now (Aside from the ones that Mortimer killed recently). You don't know just exactly how powerful Mortimer's own magic is, but you do know he's the only wizard in his kingdom so you're not anticipating any problems, if technology has proven anything its that the lowliest unskilled peasant can figure it out and use it with great efficiency. A sign of the times you suppose.

In any case you have no doubt that when the time comes, it'll probably be up to you personally to take down Mortimer in a magic showdown and if Semra is in your way then you'll deal with her as well.

A few months pass and just as you figured, Mortimer does have other tricks up his sleeve to make the invasion go a lot more difficult. You don't know if he always had an agreement with them or perhaps they're just siding with him out of spite, but the satyr and harpy clan survivors that fled to the Nakol mountains after the Tor War rear their ugly head again. This mainly involves their usual ambush tactics in the various mountain passes, but apparently there are still enough of the harpies to mount full assaults on your airships.

Apparently Mortimer doesn't have a problem with their mages either since they still have a few left and they're using their elemental magic to a great degree causing rockslides in the mountain passes, strong damaging winds against your airships and even violent tidal waves against your fleet. You don't remember them having quite that much magical strength before so you imagine Mortimer must be enhancing their abilities with his own.

There are also reports of svelk mercenaries among the normal Nakol army. You knew that not ALL of them threw in their lot with Eldolith. These must be the ones that followed Semra. Well you can finish that job too.

All of this might not be a problem if you weren't suddenly experiencing a problem that you thought you wouldn't be experiencing. There's been a slow down in the shipments of resources from Nyttrus, meaning they've stopped completely. You also haven't received any letters from Decena either. No ships have come back from Nyttrus at all and you don't know why. The only answer you can come to the conclusion to though is that the Iznac have completely overrun your forces on Nyttrus, or have at least destroyed all your ships sent there.

It's a worrying enough thought that you think that maybe you'll need to go there yourself to handle it, but that's problematic due to your conflict with the Nakol Kingdom and you feel like victory will be close at hand.

The alternative of course is to send someone else to Nyttrus who you really feel will get the job done. The only who comes to mind is Warrick and he'll have to take his own contingent of Eyes with him. That of course means less of them overseeing the Empire, but that might be what has to be done because you're in the middle of putting an end to a potentially dangerous foe on your own continent and you can't drop that to go do something else.

You do however; take a temporary leave from the field to speak with Warrick who is more than happy to help.

"I was wondering when we were going to look into that. Do you think Decena has been killed?"
"It's a very real possibility and it would indeed be a loss, but I can't imagine that the Iznac could've just wiped out all of our forces there. I mean the last letter I got from Decena was a fairly positive one. Said we had just destroyed another Iznac town and the kobolds were already in the process of digging their way into another one. I mean its possible the Iznac had their own tricks we didn't know about, it seems very strange and concerning that we've heard nothing at all and even the couple of ships that were sent a few months ago have not returned. Somebody is deliberately making sure nobody leaves Nyttrus."
"Can't we send an airship?" Warrick asks.
"Still don't have the long range capabilities to travel to Nyttrus, though the gnomes and Elam are still working on that. So we're still using boats for now. What I want from you though is to find out what exactly the hell is going on over there. Solve the problem if necessary, but if it really looks bad, then don't risk it and return home as soon as possible. No good in losing you as well."
"Understood, I'll take mage support and I'll have my second, Kristopher, fully prepared to take care of things while I'm gone. And once again I'm honored you've chosen me for this task." Warrick says.

In a few days Warrick is on his way to Nyttrus and you're already anxious to hear what is going on over there. Lacking anything else to do, you return to your war with the Nakol Kingdom.

A few more months pass and you finally receive news and it's definitely not the good kind.

Warrick manages to return in a small rowboat, half dead from dehydration and malnutrition, but also from whatever his experience on Nyttrus was, fortunately he's not so far gone that he isn't able to tell you after he's taken care of a bit.

Later you speak with Warrick privately and in a relaxed setting.

He tells you that the situation is worse than you thought. It isn't the Iznac that are the problem, or at least they aren't the major problem anymore. It's Decena. She's gone rogue. Warrick says he doesn't know all the details of how this came to be, but he believes that the Iznac had something to do with it, possibly with magic, but it sort of backfired on them.

Decena's turned herself into a "queen" over there and has not only the remaining orc and kobold forces still under her command, but even has some of the Glip and Iznac following her as well. She's actually still fighting the "loyalist" Iznac hold outs that aren't accepting her leadership. In any case, she's not acting under the orders of the Empire any more and has declared herself independent.

He then goes on to say how they were attacked nearly immediately after they disembarked from the ship. He says that probably should've turned back when it was realized that the Empire had lost complete control of Nyttrus to the point that it no longer even had a friendly harbor, but he wanted to do some more investigating.

He mentions he only managed to escape after weeks of ongoing torture. The scars (and a couple of missing fingers) prove that.

"Looks like I didn't get to solve the problem, Emperor." Warrick says.
"I'm just glad you made it back to explain what the problem was exactly. We can take of it later…(Sigh) Shit… I guess I shouldn't have sent Decena there after all. She didn't really want to go in the first place, she only wanted to be close to home. Honestly she probably would've been a lot more useful here as well. I just didn't think that…tell me Warrick, you have seen here correct? Is she truly gone?"
"I have seen her. But I do not think this entirely due to magic. I mean perhaps the Iznac magic caused a change in her, but whenever I was in her presence, it felt like…well more was in play."
"What do you mean?"
"Her attitude was all her own. Her actions were all here own. Her curses about you and the Empire were all her own. I mean keeping the orcs under her command after splitting from the Empire? That doesn't surprise me, the greenskins will take any opportunity to split away. Keeping the kobolds under her command? Now that probably took some doing. We both know how loyal the little scalies are when they respect a strong leader greatly. It's just unfortunate for the Empire that she managed to convince them somehow that she was greater than you. I can only guess the fact that they fought side by side with her for so long helped. Well that and the fact that I didn't see Snilkez'ka around. She probably killed her long ago to prove a point."

Warrick continues.

"The orcs and even the kobolds are not surprising, but the Glip and especially some of the Iznac themselves? Now that is what surprised me. Neither group were even willing to work with us before, yet Decena managed to recruit entire villages into helping her. I doubt if whatever Iznac magic was cast on her was supposed to make her into a ruler of their own people. This is all her. She has a confidence now that exceeds what she had before."
"She has an arrogance now you mean, if she believes she can take me on. After I'm done with putting the Nakol Kingdom out its misery, I'll be paying a visit to Decena and she'll regret her decision to become a traitor." You say.
"I don't think she will. Despite her curses at you, I believe deep down she still can't face you."
"Well she isn't going to have a choice if I personally get a hold of her, but what do you mean?" you ask.
"Well isn't it obvious?" Warrick asks.

At first you don't understand his question, but then comes the split moment you understand all too well…

But you don't react in time since your guard was entirely down in the company of an old comrade in arms who has shown nothing but loyalty up until this point. Perhaps the same Iznac magic is in play here, but it hardly matters.

Warrick suddenly pulls his pistol and shoots you in the chest twice, before you can react. You aren't dead yet, but you're down and struggling to breath. You try to hit Warrick with a flame bolt, but he's still quick enough to dodge as he runs over to you.

"She still loves you…that's why she sent me! Long live the new regime!" Warrick yells and shoots you again in the head.

You're already dead when the rest of your soldiers come running and find Warrick cackling about Decena will be coming soon to wipe away the rest of the corrupt Empire.


[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 buy the toilet paper! It's the soft kind!

[Assistant]
Well last time your Mom went to the supermarket she couldn't find the soft kind. In fact, she never can find it. It's almost like there's a conspiracy and the super markets hide it before she gets there. Either that or she just enjoys torturing you with toilet paper that feels more like sandpaper.

But this isn't about your paranoia, and you manage to find some toilet paper for $5, 1000 rolls of it! You buy it immediately and soon it arrives magically in front of your house. You find out why it was so cheap.

It's wet and USED…

[User] You keep it, because youre cheap

[Assistant]
You really can't see anyone buying your shitty toilet paper; you're still not sure why you wanted to buy it so bad yourself. Perhaps you have toilet training issues, but this isn't about your screwed up childhood, this is about how you wasted your money! Or have you?

Upon closer inspection you realize that this is the genuine toilet paper of Elvis! You can tell by the wiping signature! You sell it back to Graceland for millions! You then proceed to buy up other famous used toilet paper and selling them, making even more millions!

Finally you decide to get out of the business and retire to your bomb shelter on your very own Styrofoam island where you live comfortably for the rest of your life.

And perhaps when you die, YOUR toilet paper will sell for millions.


[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 shoot the pair of them

[Assistant]
You really don't want to do this, but you don't see any choice.

"Sorry." You say and point the gun at Lifto who has just gotten off of you.
"Wait." he says which is just enough give you pause due to your nervousness and give Lifto time to grab the gun from you, or at least attempt to grab it because you actually manage to struggle for half a minute before he accidently shoots you with it.

The gun goes off, you catch a bullet in your throat and you fall backwards into Klepto.

"Holy shit! I didn't mean…" Lifto shouts.
"SUZY! NO!" Klepto screams.
"What the fuck did you do Lifto!?" Fatty yells.
"Goddamn it!" Shrimpy exclaims.

At this point the rest of the shouting becomes one loud noise to your dying ears. As your vision starts to blur, Klepto cradles you in his arms trying to tell you to fight off your impending death.

It doesn't work.


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

[User] You attack now

[Assistant]
You know who the hell this is, it's the Necromancer Lord. You're never going to get a better chance than now to kill him and put an end to some of the madness that's going on. You muster up all your courage and quickly raise your bow.

"No! Wait you dumbfuck…" the Captain yells trying to stop you.

You arrow flies straight towards the Necromancer Lord, but it doesn't even reach him, a magical shield causes it to bounce off harmlessly. However your actions cause the Necromancer Lord to react defensively and he unleashes a ray of pure black energy which drains you of your life force entirely.


[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 sneak in

[Assistant]
"Fuck off, bug." You say and leave. You get on your bike and drive off, but only a few miles out of sight, you then stash your bike behind some bushes and head back to the mansion. You head around the side walls, and scale them. The barbwire on top is a bitch though and you end up getting your fur caught in it.

After tugging and ripping yourself up, you fall off the wall into the mansion grounds, bleeding and surrounded by ant people. Apparently they could sense something not "Bugly" creeping around, not to mention you made some noise trying to get off the barb wire.

You end up meeting Janice after all…on her dinner plate.


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

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
Well, if you can get the freaks to side with Charley, everyone else should be pretty easy of course HOW you're going to do that is another story. The Freak community is pretty loyal to the Ring Master and given your lowly status, you don't know if they're even going to listen to you.

You approach the freak side of the Carnival. The instant you enter their camp, you're watched and studied by many eyes (And some of those many eyes belong to the same freak), but at least nobody throws anything at your head. You don't get far before Jasmine the Bearded Lady stops you.

"Hey Geek! What're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be doing something for the Ring Master?"
"Huh? How do you know about that?"
"Because we're his supporters obviously Geek! What he knows we know and she knows all!"

Obviously he doesn't know all; otherwise the freaks would know you're working for Charley now.

"Anyway, you don't need to come here to convince us to ally with the Ring Master, our loyalty to him is well known. Though I must admit I wonder why she chose you for this task, but I guess he has her reasons. I suggest you leave now, there's nothing else for you here Geek."

[User] You leave

[Assistant]
Mentioning anything against the Ring Master would be a death sentence at this point, so you keep your mouth shut and leave.

As you leave the freaks, you notice a group of Pinheads congregating behind one of the trailers, when they see you they suddenly become quiet and stare at you with vacant smiles on their distorted faces.

[User] You approach them

[Assistant]
The Pinheads are behaving very oddly, normally they're gibbering or playing, they're hardly ever this quiet. You approach them.

"Hey, what's going on?" you ask.

They look up at you still vacantly smiling at you.

[User] You talk some more

[Assistant]
"So, are you guys getting ready for your act tonight?"

The Pinheads look at each other and then look at you and continue to smile vacantly.

[User] You talk even more

[Assistant]
For some reason the Pinhead's silence makes you feel welcome, normally everyone drives you off, you decide to talk more.

"Yeah I got a new act, I bite the head off of a cat, vomit it back up and then eat it again with rotten chicken livers."

The Pinheads cease smiling, and begin to look utterly bored.

[User] You continue to talk to them

[Assistant]
"Yeah, I remember one time I ate a dog bladder, kind of a bitter taste."

The Pinheads are now starting to get annoyed with you as you insist on telling them your "interesting" list of past dinners.

You might want to stop. While the Pinheads aren't normally abusive to you, you don't exactly have a nice history with them and they have been known to get mean when something displeases them, much like young children do.

[User] You keep pushing it

[Assistant]
"So one time…"
"Geek will you shut the fuck up? Shit, I can smell your rotten breath from here!" one of the Pinheads shouts, you're absolutely stunned.

"You…you can talk?!"

The lead Pinhead gives a dirty look to the one who shouted at you, and then looks back.

"Yeah we can talk, and now YOU know we can thanks to big mouth over here! Thanks a lot Frank!"
"Well he was getting on my nerves George!"
"But…if you can talk, why do you act like idiots?"
"Why do you eat all that nasty shit? For the money of course or in your case for the booze. You think we'd make as much if we didn't act like little retarded children? We're fucking ugly just like any freak, but by acting like simple minded children we come across as charming and harmless…cute even. Which makes us rube favorites. Nobody knows the truth, not even the other freaks, nobody except you…I guess we'll have to kill you."
"Hold on wait wait! Can't we come to an agreement here? I mean I'm not going to tell anyone! And even if I did, who'd believe me?"
"Can't take that chance."

You suddenly crumple to the ground and beg pathetically for your life at the feet of the George. He gives you a disdainful squinted expression.

"Get off my feet Geek! Sheesh, you're pathetic! We probably wouldn't have killed you, maybe just cut out your tongue."
"So you'll let me live?"
"Yeah, but you're still not getting off that easy. You gotta do something for us to make us trust you."
"What?"
"Go to the clown tent and destroy all their sex toys."
"WHAT?!"
"Shhhh! Stop fucking drawing attention!"
"You want me to go to the clown tent? But nobody in their right mind goes in there!"
"Duh, that's why we're sending you."
"Why do you want me to do this?"
"Because those pedophile ass clowns are direct competition, they always draw all the children away from our act, and we'd like to get back at them in some way. It'll really piss off Pervus when he sees his cock ring in pieces heh heh heh."
"I don't wanna touch those things! Who knows where they've been!"
"You're kidding me right? This coming from the guy who eats cow ass for his grand finale. Look they're mostly all in a big wooden box anyway so just set fire to the box or something. It's not like you have a choice in this matter."
"I dunno, I think death might be preferable to getting caught by the clowns."
"(Sigh) Alright, I know you're working for Charley you wanted to convince the Freaks to side with him in this ensuing struggle coming up…don't ask us how we know, we just do. And it's mainly because since much like you we hear a lot more because we're considers idiots and non-threatening. If you do this, we'll convince the Freaks to side with Charley, again don't ask us how…we have our ways…do we have a deal now?"

Knowing this is probably your best shot and if the Pinheads don't kill you, Charley certainly will for your failure to get people to side with him, so you agree.

"Good, return when you've completed the job, we'll be playing around in this area until show time."

You leave the Pinheads who resume their pretend act of being morons while you resume your completely real act of being a moron for getting yourself into this mess. You don't know how you're going to do this.

As you approach the tent, you notice how quiet it is. Normally loud insane rowdy laughter can be heard from within, but it's silent which almost makes it scarier. You wonder if you shouldn't just set the WHOLE tent on fire. In some ways you'd be doing the world a favor. You do wonder about how the Ring Master can just let such evil go unchecked.

[User] You set the whole tent on fire

[Assistant]
You make up your mind and decide to save yourself some risk and set the whole tent on fire. You head back the Charley's still, which luckily is unattended right now. You steal three bottles of his stuff and his Zippo lighter that he foolishly left near the volatile concoction. Before you leave you take another drink to calm your nerves.

You return to the clown tent and start dowsing it with Charley's booze trying not to be noticed and hopping no clown suddenly comes out of the tent. You continue to do this until you encircle the entire tent and run out of booze. You light it up…

The entire tent goes up like tinder box, you didn't expect it to go up so fast, and you're a little singed yourself, as you fall backwards. You scramble away as other Carneys notice what's happened and start calling for water. The clowns soon come running out screaming horribly while burning alive. Their faces literally melting off with all the makeup they were wearing.

You are about to go see the Pinheads, but the carnival is in too much chaos, as your act of arson has had an unintended side effect. The burning clowns end up running hither, thither and yon, setting everything else on fire as well in their torment. Soon the entire Carnival is up in flames and its every man, woman, and freak for itself.

Having no other options, you keep running until you reach the nearest town. You spend a couple days just bumming around the town and sleeping in the park until one night…

"Hello, Geek." You hear melodic voice say. Before you can reply a huge foot steps on your throat. It's Atlas and the Ring Master.
"It wasn't enough that you attempted to betray me, but you had to destroy my beloved Carnival. The Carnival that brought so much joy to others and gave jobs to the outcasts. Outcasts like you…well do you have anything to say?"

Atlas relaxes his foot on your throat for just a bit for you to answer.

"It…it…was an accident…"
"Hmm, an accident. Yes I made an accident too, time to correct it. Atlas."

"N…"

Before you can get out the "o" Atlas brings his massive foot down on your throat utterly destroying your windpipe, your larynx, and your life.


[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 reject him

[Assistant] You grab steel and flint, and set the bible alight. You hold the crucifix into the flames, as that sets alight too. The flames burnt brightly in your hands, licking your hands and arm. It hurts, but you grit your teeth. If God is up there, you best get used to the burning sensation. Once the bible and crucifix are ash, you stand. You're done here.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
Burning Passion

You walk through the woods, looking up at the starless night. Your burns still hurt, but you no longer care. You stare up at the sky, and know that God's either not there, or not worth your love. Who is he to claim you're a sinner with all the genocide and torture he's done? No. You're all sinners. No longer bond by silly superstitions and rules, life is yours.


[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 look like you could use a drink, Captain."

You turn to see Victoria, your first mate. Her purple hair is tied back in a ponytail. It always seemed to be tied a little towards the left side of her head. The thought came up to question why, but you've learned from experience not to question a woman on her hairstyle.

"Way ahead of you, V," you say raising your cup from the bar top for emphasis.

"I'll have what he's having," she addresses towards the bartender.

"Got any news on The Sanguine?" you ask.

"Yeah, boss, and it's not good. Procter is working on the repairs now. He said we might need the hull replaced."

"I sure hope not," you reply.

"We've been through worse, Cap," Victoria replies.

You take another sip from your cup. The latest job smuggling cargo for an English merchant paid well, but the damage sustained fleeing from a Spanish Galleon could very well cost the entire payout, or worse, put you in the hole. The wizard on board the Galleon hit The Sanguine with more than a few nasty spells. If Victoria didn't fire back with a perfectly aimed fire bolt, the entire ship might be at the bottom of the Caribbean.

"I sent Freddy to find us some work," you say to Victoria. "Did he come back with anything?"

"Nothing yet," she replies. "Although knowing Freddy, he probably got distracted by the nearest gambling hole."

"He always comes through in the end, despite his tendencies," you reply.

"What's next for you, Cap?" Victoria asks.

You finish the cup and slam it back down on the bar top. Sunlight pours into the poorly lit building through several open windows creating rectangular beams of yellow. You're reminded of the Caribbean heat each time a wave of warm air floods in. Your crew had certainly seen better days. The last three ships you targeted weren't carrying anything substantial. Your most recent job would have been a huge payday if not for the Galleon's attack. At least you managed to escape alive and with most of your crew. Victoria's former life as naval mage certainly came in handy there.

"Cap?"

"Sorry, V. I must have zoned out for a second. My plan is to..."

[User] You check on Procter

[Assistant]
"...check on Procter. I need to see the extent of the damage we sustained."

"A wise choice, Captain."

You toss a few coins onto the bar top, pick up your tricorn hat, and take your leave. The bright sunlight assaults your eyes as you enter into the open. The tavern is one of many upon a windy sloped path. Various vendors with small shops line the cobbled pavement. You pass by a group of marching soldiers and tip your hat towards their stoic, blank expressions. Tension between Nassau and the English occupation was at an all-time high. The governor's hold over the city had been steadily declining for years. Criminal activity only escalated with the diminishing control. Still, the English possessed the best firepower and wizards in their employ. Witnessing arcane power in addition to modern weaponry, you didn't think there would be much of a rebellion without outside help. Steel and gunpowder was vastly overshadowed by the power of the elements.

As you continue on the road down the hill, your mind drifts to your crew. Besides the common sailor, gunpowder monkey, and cannoneer, you have three main members to rely on. Each have their flaws, although they're the best in the business as far as you're concerned.

[User] You procter

[Assistant]
Sometimes you weren't quite sure of Procter's sanity. Your quartermaster had an affinity for unconventional methodology. During one less-than-friendly encounter with a French brig, Procter had saved The Sanguine by impersonating the ship's captain, taking the helm, and shouting "arrête de poser tes bras!" The cannon barrage and fiery destruction from Victoria helped as well.

You had first met the sorcerer in Tortuga. The two of you shared a prison cell. He had been arrested selling watered-down ale to a group of French soldiers. Something about him had caught your eye, an obvious intelligence beneath the guise of quirkiness and social ineptitude. When Freddy broke you out, you took Procter along with you. His willingness to take the "smart" approach, despite the majority's disposition, is one of the many reasons you named him quartermaster.

[User] You victoria

[Assistant]
There was no one you trusted more than Victoria, not even Freddy, when it came to getting things done. Your first mate had grown up among the nobility in London and attended the most prestigious schools. Her affinity towards arcane magic landed her a position within the Royal Navy as a naval mage, which is where you first met. You both served upon the HMS Eternity occasionally butting heads when it came to advising the captain. The two of you were considered Captain Newburry's "right and left hands" and were the primary reason the ship survived as long as it did. You did find it frustrating that Newburry sided with Victoria more, probably since it's hard to disagree with feminine beauty. Ironically, The Eternity went down under fire from the Spanish fleet, but not before you rescued Victoria's unconscious body on a piece of floating debris.

The two of you had gone your separate ways and met later in Port Maje. Uncharacteristically, Victoria had threatened her superior officers after being placed under another incompetent captain. Things escalated, a building or two burned down, and she was dishonorably charged from the Royal Navy. Her expertise when it comes to naval warfare has saved The Sanguine countless times. Lately, she has been teaching you to master the arcane, which in combination with your roguish tricks has created quite the resourceful, and deadly, captain.


[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 bash Skeleton With Rock

[Assistant]
You grab the rock you noticed earlier almost immediately, then go back to blocking your opponents attacks.  The enemy is attacking fast and furious and it takes all your concentration to block.  Even so, you only manage to block most of its attacks and take a few slashes.  Nothing major, but you are losing blood.  Eventually you see your opening and you ram the rock into the creature's skull with the full force of your adrenaline infused arm.  You hear a satisfying crack as the front of the skull crumbles and the creature stumbles back.  Realizing how brittle this thing must be, you grab its wrist before it can regain composure and bring the rock down again, taking off its sword arm at the elbow.  Another crack at the spine for good measure and you are confident the creature is dead.  The other four look on angrily and scream but the bars prevent them from doing anything about it, so you decide to move on deeper into the cave in hopes of finding another way out of here.

The cave only gets darker and darker as you go in deeper and you find it odd that there are no other inhabitants in this region... until you see a pair of large white eyes staring back at you from the darkness in the next cavern.  It doesn't appear willing to leave the chamber in pursuit of you, but you cannot return the way you came as the skeletons are still banging on the bars you left behind.  Studying the creatures behavior a little more, you begin to suspect it is a grue.

You've heard stories of grues from nearly every adventurer you've ever met.  These things are the leading cause of death amongst those in the adventuring profession.  Even higher than dragons, vampires, and Lindsay Lohan.  In fact, while grues are believed to be organic and corporeal, no adventurer has ever actually killed one before.  You struggle to remember what the adventurers told you when dealing with a grue.  It has a certain weakness, but for the life of you you simply cannot remember what that is...  You're going to have to guess.

[User] A Grue's Weakness Is Garlic, you apply It To Myself

[Assistant]
Of course!  Garlic!  You still have some garlic powder in your pack that you use to flavor your pork rines.  You douse yourself with it and make a mental note to bathe later so the other monsters don't notice your scent.  You confidently walk into the dark chamber ahead, certain that the grue will flee your garlic stench.  As you confidently strut through the creatures chamber you think to yourself,

"Why can't all my challenges be this...."

You don't get enough time to finish that thought.

You were eaten by a grue.

THE END


[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 defend Lars

[Assistant]
"Lars might not be the best guard, but he's the best option available. On the bright side, we at least seem to get along."

Dario's face turns dark red as he spits out,

"If he's the best option, then this city might burn in flames tonight. None of us are safe with him on duty."

"So I take it that you won't be rehiring him?"

The captains sighs deeply out of frustration.

"Look, tell him he can guard tonight. However, if he messes up one more time, he's out for good."

You do a small fist bump out of celebration.

"Not so fast sonny, you're going with him."

"Really? Even after what happened the last time we were on guard duty together?"

"You said it yourself, you two get along. Now, get out and get to work."

You leave in a pissed off mood, however the captain adds one thing before you slam his door shut.

"I brought fur coats for the both of you. They're in your lockers and it's best if you wear them tonight."

You leave in a slightly less pissed off mood and slam the door. Eric does a one tooth smile as you walk over to him.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing too important. I have to go now, it was nice meeting you."

Nice meeting you too..."

You leave and head over to Lars house. It's best to tell him the good news as soon as you can. You get there shortly and he answers the door right away.

"So did you do it? Did you tell the captain what really happened."

"I convinced the captain to give you your job back, that's all that matters."

Lars looks like he wants to argue, but holds back.

"I'm just happy my family won't starve to death. Oh, and that I won't have to kill you," he says with a wink.

"Yeah it's great news, now follow me. The captain brought fur coats for both of us."

[User] A month later

[Assistant]
Lars is an incompetent fucktard who can't even hold a bow. You're very lucky the last month has been quiet for you, however demon sighting are getting more common. Sooner than later you're going to encounter one. You put on your fur coat and walk to the city walls.

5 hours later

It's been a quiet night so far and warmer than usual. Lars stands up and points his sword towards the forest.

"Do you see something?"

"Maybe, unless the booze is fucking with my vision. It looks like a bat but much larger, and...sexier."

You look where he's pointing and something comes into view. It's a succubus, but unlike the one you met before, it no longer resembles a human. It has blood stained skin and humongous bat wings.

"Holy shit."

Don't just stand there, defend yourself."

"Nah fuck that," Lars says while running away.

You unleash a flurry of arrows at the creature as Lars makes his escape. It manages to dodge almost everything, but one arrow grazes its foot.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

The succubus releases a bolt of dark energy at you. It hits you in the chest and you collapse. As you sit there about to pass out, a thought comes to you. One month ago a succubus saved your life, now another ends it.

"Tell Catia I said hi..."


[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 leave

[Assistant]
You know what this is going to be, his attempt to convince you of why you shouldn't be helping Quintus. You're not interested in anything he has to say, and it will be pointless to do so.

"I'm going to just leave now and stop wasting both of our time, Batty. I suggest you don't try to stop me." You remark and begin walking towards the door.
"But, you're already here! You can't just listen?" Batalimus says.
"No. This was a lapse in judgement on my part I suppose. Still, I guess I got a good idea of the layout of this place when I eventually have to kill you."
"Very well then, but I had hoped you'd be reasonable about this Eternal."

With those last words you leave Batalimus' house and return to your duties in Quala. Just as you're thinking about how you need to go see Trog soon about your little arrangement you get an urgent message from a republic messenger.

"He's fucking dead?!" you exclaim.
"Yes sir, as I said he was found dead in his home, poisoned. His assets are all being seized due to him owing various people, though his wife is contesting…"

As the messenger drones on about this, you realize you're in position that you really should've considered. Namely, you have no "patron" anymore. Sure, you're somewhat popular with the military, but Quintus' influence on the population and his fellow senators were a big deal. Batalimus must be behind this and even if he isn't, he's going to be the main one taking advantage of the situation.

Without another word you ride off to Nalin and you don't stop until you arrive at Batalimus' place. Batalimus' personal guards are surprised to see you and even more surprised when you start chopping them down with your sword. Despite killing everyone in his home, you don't find Batalimus so you go to the next logical place to look, the senate building.

You don't have any more luck there, all you manage to do is interrupt some of the senators debating something or other.

"Where is Batalimus?!" you demand.
"I don't know! We don't know!" the senator that has the floor answers, but it really isn't the answer you want to hear.
"Lies!" you say and fry the senator with a lightning bolt.

"You really think your republic is going to survive? Most of you were already supporting Quintus' ideas, now I bet you're ready to turn your back on those same ideas just because he's dead. Well Batty killed the wrong man. I will see the Empire return even if the rest of you are too cowardly to do so!" you shout and begin throwing fireballs at the rest of the senators. You don't stop until you leave the senate house in flames.

By this time the military is on the scene, but they're unsure of what to do for several reasons. So you give them the reasons.

You take immediate control of the military and tell them to start hunting for Batalimus and to maintain order. A few days later and it's official. You make your announcement that the Republic is dead and that the Empire now lives again. The general public doesn't know quite what to make of everything. You're sure that there will be some sort of misguided rebellion especially with Batalimus still on the run probably stirring up dissent, but with the military behind you're confident that you won't have too much trouble.

Year 541

"You really think this is going to change anything? Look at the nation! Despite your attempts to crush its spirit with your outdated concepts of order it still resists you! Face it, you've already lost and my death will not save you!" Batalimus screams defiantly.

You break a couple more of his ribs with a few stomps to his chest. The older man wheezes and gasps in pain. He won't show fear though; he's fully willing to die.

"It may not change anything, but keep this in mind before I send you on your way. Your actions did NOT save the republic; it only increased the chaos and strife. You may have fucked up my plans, but you have completely destroyed and betrayed your own."
"(Wheeze) Perhaps…Eternal…(gasp) but better the people should live in anarchy than under your brutal order!"

You shake your head at his answer and crush his windpipe with your boot. At last the thorn in your side has been removed, but the damage he's done has not. In fact you're not even certain that you can repair it. Even with Jennifer doing her best with the propaganda machine, it's still not enough.
You have attempted to recreate a secret police in a similar style of the Emperor's Eyes, but efforts haven't proved too successful mainly because you're too busy using the military to keep direct order.

Even portions of your military have turned against you, if not outright treason then desertion. Some have fled to find work within the six cities of Arat or even joined up with the pirate groups in Delerg.

It isn't that the people don't fear you, it's that they hate you more than they fear. Even after you've destroyed entire towns that have dared defy you, you still get pockets of resistance running off into the wilderness to cause ongoing problems.

Your methods in the beginning months were probably too harsh in retrospect. Killing everyone in the senate certainly didn't help as perhaps some of those experienced fools might've still been useful in swaying public opinion and dealing with the more mundane issues of running the government. Combine this with the fact that the idea of things like "liberty" still lingered within the people, your brutal actions only proved to them what happens when a single tyrant takes power. Instead of cowing them into submission, you ended up lighting a fire of freedom that you still haven't put out yet and at this point you wonder if you ever will. Batalimus of course took advantage of that fact too.

Between the steady attrition of loyal soldiers, the ongoing defiance of the people, external threats like the Flogger tribe hearing of your struggles and taking advantage of your lightly defended outposts in Quala (And certainly have no intention of joining your Empire now) you are pushed to the brink and beyond.

You decide if the fools won't submit to your rule, you'll burn the whole damn thing down. Jennifer however talks you out of it saying that it won't solve anything. She also tries to convince you that maybe you should consolidate what holdings you do have and build from there.

It's a nice thought and it's certainly logical, but you're so exasperated at the entire situation that you decide to just give up. You realize that your time has come and gone. The people don't want you around and at this point you don't even care to rule them anymore. In fact you don't even care about ruling anything anymore. All you really ever wanted to do was serve the Emperor and the Empire and enjoy your time with Alison.

Things were so much simpler back then.

You shouldn't have ever listened to Semra. Even if the Emperor had killed you, at least you wouldn't exist in a time where the Empire doesn't. You would've died at least knowing the Empire would still be around.

Not being able to go on and unwilling to stick around, you suddenly leave Nalin forever. Where, nobody knows. Some say you found death in the Usksha Desert, others say you found it in the cold mountains of Rask, but ultimately what happened to you is lost to time.


[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 head off into the trees

[Assistant]
"We have to go!" you say, and Becca nods.

You break off into a sprint heading into the shadows and darkness, escaping into the trees. You run for several minutes, before you stop, bending over and panting.

"Jesus, what do we do now?"

[User] You think

[Assistant]
OK, you need to act fast, before the cultists do whatever they're planning.you could call the police. Although Sheriff Buckly is one of the only cops in town, if you called the State Troopers, there's a good chance they'd be able to arrive and clear this place out.

You could also sneak back to the trucks and steal some of the weapons that Drake brought, and force a confrontation and end this.

Then again, you know where the location of Drake's keys are for the RV. You know the RV's highly explosive, and with that you could easily disrupt the ritual and do a lot more.

Then, there are the more... dangerous solutions. You could use the Dead Man. That terrifying spirit no doubt has some rage toward the town locals such as the cultists. Perhaps he could be bartered with.

[User] You call the State Troopers

[Assistant]
"So what do we do?" Becca asks.

"Call the State Troopers."

"Are you sure that'll work?"

"I don't know," you admit. "Just... it's worth a try."

You ring the number, and immediately get an automated voice in your ear. You wait as they go through the numbers, before you hear a shout.

"HANDS UP!" a voice screams.

You turn, and see Sheriff Buckly walking out from the trees.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Alison suggested I track your phones, but I told her it'd be insane for you to use it after I told you I had the equipment to track it. Jesus Christ. Come on, girls. I'm taking you back to camp. I'm going to hurt you, hurt you so, so bad for what you did to Louis."

[User] You attack

[Assistant] You take a deep breath as adrenaline surges through you, and charge forward with the knife. As soon as you near Sheriff Buckly, he quickly backpedals and aims, before blowing your brains out.


[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 stay in the shelter

[Assistant]
"No, Eliza. I'll stay here. I left that world a long time ago and I wouldn't know what to do up there even in the unlikely event that civilization has been rebuilt in someway. This is my life now. Down here, with you. I'm sorry if I get a little irritable sometimes, I don't mean to."
"I know you don't, sir."
"Would you stop calling me that? I told you to call me by my name!" you laugh, knowing that she won't do it. Sometimes you wonder if it's a glint of defiance on her part, indicating she isn't as "submissive" as she would appear.

In any event your mood improves again and life continues…

30 years pass…

You stay in bed a lot. Eliza takes care of you like she always has, but even she can't stop the ravages of time, although it's not from trying. Eliza has medical knowledge, but not the proper equipment to sustain you. It would be only prolonging the inevitable anyway. You're human and she isn't. Hell, you always felt that if it hadn't been for her in the first place, you probably wouldn't have lived this long.

The day finally comes when you can sense your heart beating its last beats, your lungs starting to draw their last gasps. You'd call Eliza to be with you, but of course she's already there. She's always there.

"Eliza, I…can't go on anymore…I wish I could…but I'm not made of the strong stuff you are…"
"You should rest sir, don't try to speak." She says while sitting by the bed holding your hand.
"…you…know…I never said it…that much…but you know I love you right?"
"I know sir…I love you too..."

And she finally calls you by your name.

With those words still ringing in your ears, you begin to get sleepy and close your eyes. As your mind has its last pleasant thoughts of Eliza, you feel one last taste of metal on your lips…and something wet splashing on your cheek…

Was that a tear? No…it couldn't be…

Could 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 report to the captial

[Assistant]
Everything tells you that you should go to your family, but you question if they are even still alive. You don't want to think about it really since it's starting to upset you. The thought of your remaining family being killed and turned into undead parodies of themselves, makes you not want to know if that's what happened.

You wonder if they might've even fled already like you've been telling them to in your letters. It's certainly possible, even as stubborn as your Mom is, she might've taken your advice at least for the sake of the rest of your brother and sisters.

You mind suddenly goes elsewhere…

…Yeah…they left already. There's no point in going to your home. It's been abandoned. They're probably all safe in Retlad by now. No need to worry. You'll see them later. Surely this attack on the capitol won't be that bad. You've survived a lot worse. You've got orders and you need to follow them, because if there is any chance at stopping this dead plague, this is going to be a crucial battle. You did join the army to help your family after all, and what better way to help them, then to ensure their future?

After having this little delusion, you feel calm again. Oddly so. Even a little hopeful. You head off to the capitol with your troops.

When you get there, the general attitude is pessimistic. Most people don't seem to think they're going to win. You're getting that vibe even from the generals of the Grand Alliance. You don't see why. Surely the Great Lich Lord has finally overextended all his resources now. This attack will be a failure and from here you will be able to make a counter attack! Sure it won't be easy, but it can be done.

People are finding your optimism a little weird, especially those that have served under you since they know how that really isn't your personality. You don't think you've changed at all though. You just go about following your orders of making sure your troops are prepared in their defense of the south wall, humming little tunes as happy music fills your head.

A few days pass and you're visited by your old commanding officer who's constantly making sure everything is in place. She looks very tired; you tell her she needs to think positive. When she asks if you're feeling alright, you just laugh and ask if she'd like to hear a song.

She tells you no with a grim look. She also tells you point blank that she wants to get laid one last time before this battle. Being in the somewhat scattered mind frame that you're in right now, you ask who the candidate is.

A couple hours later, you have your answer. Before you leave her room, she asks you to play a song for her after all. It's the one she asked to play before. The one her mother sang to her.

As you play she noticeably begins to weep. She doesn't attempt to hide it. You stop playing and hold her until she calms down which eventually she does and composes herself.

She gives no further information and simply tells you to go back to your post and to carry on as if nothing happened. You do so without pressing the issue.

A week passes and the undead horde arrives. It's much bigger than anyone expected, and even worse, the Great Lich Lord himself is leading this attack.

Now your mind suddenly comes back to grips with reality.

The undead horde surrounds and storms the city. An attempt is made to kill the Great Lich Lord, but he merely gets back up from the hail of gunfire and arrows that strike him.

Soon the gates are compromised. You order your troops to take to the streets and fight off the invading hordes with the rest of the soldiers. You do likewise, though now you're really wondering about a way to try to escape. Its no use though, the dead are everywhere butchering anything alive. You kill one walking corpse and five more take its place.

In one particular brutal sneak attack, a ghoul jumps from a rooftop and tackles you. You feel a paralyzing bite as it sinks its teeth into you. Darkness soon takes you and you begin you new mindless undead life afterwards.


[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 desert the army

[Assistant]
You don't want to die and you know if you go, you will. You regret that you won't be able to help your family out financially anymore, but you really don't want to die.

You pack up all your stuff in the middle of the night and sneak away from the town your company is stationed in. You figure their orders are urgent enough that your desertion won't immediately cause a full scale hunt, at least not by them.

The first order of business is to change your identity as much as you can. And head to a place where you can play for an audience, but the probability of someone ratting you out is low if you're recognized.

The question though is where to go. You can't linger in the Retlad Kingdom too long, in fact you'll probably have to move around.

You decide your first stop will be at the Garwold Confederacy. It's a relatively peaceful nation made up mostly of Halflings and Gnomes, with lush green fields and flowers. They tend to stay out of wars and they're also known to appreciate the simpler things in life.

Eventually you make a place for yourself there in one of the small villages. You make a living playing at the local tavern there. Most of the patrons sense that you have some sort of past that you're trying to hide from. But just like you thought, they don't bring it up or say anything about it and just enjoy your music.

A few months pass and you're happy. You even meet a pretty Halfling girl to be with, and now you're even thinking about just settling down here, since nobody's come looking for you; however there are alarming events occurring in the rest of the world.

The assault on Nuro was a complete failure. Everyone was killed from your company. It makes you glad you didn't go, but the fact that there is now an undead city state has everyone worried. It doesn't help that there was also an outbreak of demons. One particularly nasty one called Velzix has conquered the Tulan Kingdom.

Due to these events a Grand Alliance of nations has been created to stop these threats. The Garwold Confederacy normally stays out of such things, but they have agreed to send a militia as part of the aiding effort.

You don't worry too much about it at first, but as a couple more years go on, the war gets worse and more and more Zalan Empire troops are passing through the area. Normally you'd move on, but now you're married and you can't bear to abandon yet another one you love. You still haven't completely forgiven yourself for the first time.

You attempt to keep a low profile, but one day a Grand Alliance solider passing through, sees you in a tavern and recognizes you. Apparently he's a citizen of Retlad and remembers you when you were stationed there.

"HEY! I know you! Man, it's good to see ya! How did you get out of the army? I thought the Zalan Empire had a twenty year requirement plan! You still play that lute really well?" he bellows for all inside to hear. Unfortunately one of the other Grand Alliance members with him is from the Zalan Empire who's a real stickler for rules and regulations.
"I know who you are too! You're wanted for desertion! I'm placing you under arrest!"

You try to escape, but you don't get far. You haven't been keeping up on your physical training since you deserted, and coupled with your Halfling wife's rich cooking you're not in great shape anymore. The Zalan soldier on the other hand has been battle hardened in the recent months. He easily catches you and beats you into submission.

You're taken back to the Zalan Empire in chains much to the protest of your wife, but its no use, you're going to trial.

Your family is made aware of your discovery, but none of them come to try to help you. You abandoned them long ago and didn't even try to contact them; as far as they're concerned you died years ago. You attempt to explain things in letters to them, but you're never answered. Eventually you give up.

The trial is brief and the judgment final. You're sentenced to death as an example of all those who would attempt to desert their duty during war.

As you sit in your cell counting the days for your hanging, you find out from sad visits from your wife that things are getting really bad. Dead armies conquering kingdoms, demons running amok. You almost wonder if your execution isn't a blessing from the horror that seems to be eclipsing the world.

The day comes when the noose is placed around your neck…

"Any last words?"

You have none; you just hum a little tune and close your eyes before the trapdoor swings open, and your neck snaps.