[System] Narrate a grim fantasy text adventure. The Empire's world is brutal, its people hardened. Respond to the player's choices with immersive storytelling and let consequences flow naturally.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
Your latest quest begins not with the destruction of your manor or the death of someone close to you, but rather with a letter.

Bertrand, your loyal servant, comes to your room in the early morning hours to drop off today's dosage of bread and wine. But on the platter, tucked in between two loaves of bread, is a letter. The seal is emblazoned with the royal coat of arms. You eye Bertrand warily, and the old man gives a sigh. "Apologies, my lord. A knight came to the manor this morning, and he requested that I pass this along to you. The knight said that it's an invitation to the royal castle from the king himself. I suggest you read it."

With a sigh of your own, you rip open the envelope and unfold the letter, taking a look at the contents.

"Dear Sir,

I have need of a man of your talents. There are important matters to discuss regarding the ongoing war between the Kingdom of Oren and the Empire of Kishak. You must report to Castle Oren as soon as you may, though I urge you to arrive soon. If a week has passed without word from you, then I am afraid I must send my men to acquire you immediately. I hope that you will come.

Regards,

King Walter III."

You scoff at the letter. Bastard king, sitting on his throne while his dogs do the work. You suppose that he considers you one of them. The question lies in whether you are indeed one of the dogs that mindlessly obeys orders, or whether you'll break from the pack and carve your own path.

[User] You you've nothing better to do. You'll go to Castle Oren.

[Assistant]
You shake your head slightly, before shrugging. There's not much you do in your day to day life, and at the very least, this is something. "Bertrand," you say. "Get to packing my things. I'm going to Castle Oren at dawn." Your servant seems very surprised by this, but immediately leaves the room to get a knapsack for you. He comes back not long after and begins packing the essentials: changes of clothes, a tinderbox from your dresser, and lantern oil, along with some of the bread and wine he came to give you.

He nods to you, taking the knapsack. "I'll pack it in your carriage, sir. In the morning we'll go." With those words, he leaves the room. You sigh, before popping open the remaining bottle of wine and beginning your daily routine. By nightfall, not a drop remains of the wine nor a crumb of the bread. The weight of the situation hangs heavily on you: tomorrow, you're going to leave your home for the first time in years to fight a war that isn't yours to fight for a man who will never care for you. It's enough to make you reconsider your plans. Almost.

At least, this is something you can use your talents for. Twenty years and your blade hasn't tasted a drop of blood. You feel as though you're getting rusty, that your time is long past, and it would be best to turn this offer down... No. You need to prove to yourself that you can still do this. Age means nothing for a person with your raw strength and skill, and you could kill four times as many men as a soldier half your age and twice your size. You were always told that you had a warrior's heart. Soon, you shall reaffirm it once and for all.

When the sun dawns on the horizon, you get up and get dressed into practical clothing. Then, you grab your old sword, giving it an experimental swing at the air. It's large, only a bit shorter than your tall frame, and almost as wide as your torso. A greatsword that no man but you could wield. After hooking it onto your back, you head down to where your carriage is stored. Bertrand is already there, waiting for you in the driver's seat. "I packed some of my things as well, sir. Hope you don't mind me coming with you," he says. You nod, getting into the passengers seat. He spurs the horses into action with the reigns, and the two of you begin the ride to Castle Oren.

You pass through a town on the way there and pass by several small hamlets. The sun is high in the sky when you see something on the horizon: a group of men sifting through a broken down carriage on the road. The men are dressed in fur and hides, and have chipped and dented axes at their sides. Highwaymen, bandits who prey on anyone daring to go from one place to another by the main roads. It makes you sick just looking at them. Then, you hear a woman's scream from the carriage. A noble lady in fine clothing runs from the carriage, screaming all the while. The highwaymen chase after her, abandoning the carriage.

You grip your blade...

[User] You ... Then jump out and chase after the bandits, intent on killing them.

[Assistant]
Damn these sick bastards. Robbing and killing the innocent. You jump out of the carriage and begin to chase after them. Faintly, you hear Bertrand yelling at you, but the pounding of your head as a cold rage runs through you blocks out any sounds but the woman's screams. You chase the highwaymen down; it doesn't take long, you find them just as one tackles the noble woman to the ground. The others haven't noticed you yet.

You draw your blade, making sure that the chain keeping it tied to your back clinks loud enough for them to hear. They whip around, glaring at you; their eyes hold a mixture of primal rage and fear. One bares rotting yellow teeth at you, snarling like a dog. You put both hands on your sword, keeping a firm grip on it, waiting for them to make the first move. You don't have to wait long, as Yellow Teeth runs at you screaming, flailing two axes around as though he's a barbarian of the Northern Wildlands. You smoothly sidestep his charge, then bring your sword down at his legs. His upper body is sent flying upwards as your sword slices through his thighs and out the other side.

The other three highwaymen stare at their dying ally, the fear overcoming their rage. You draw your sword back and swing at nothing, the blood flying off. Droplets land on their faces. "Leave the woman alone, or you'll wind up like your friend," you say. To seal your threat, you take a step forward, and they immediately back off and begin running. You draw a dagger from your boot, stabbing it into the dying bandit's throat as you approach the woman to make sure she's okay.

"Hurt?" you ask, kneeling down next to the noble woman as she lays on the ground. She's hyperventiliating, looking around with wild eyes, before turning over and vomiting on the grass. You pat her on the back to help her get it out, then shake your head. "It's normal the first few times something like this happens. Once the adrenaline wears off, you feel sick to your stomach. Get up." You offer a hand, which she accepts.

"T-thank you, sir. I can never repay you. Those... Those thugs attacked my carriage, killed my driver and the stole all my valuables. I... I don't know how I can make it back home." She sighs, shaking her head. "I'll just have to walk, I suppose."

"Where were you going?" you ask, already wishing you hadn't.

"Elkstern Keep. Have you heard of it?"

You have, actually. It was one of the stops on your journey twenty years ago... And is in the opposite direction of Castle Oren, about two hundred miles away in fact. You'd have to arrive much later or even cancel your trip if you were to escort her.

[User] You damn it all, you're too soft for your own good. You offer to escort her.

[Assistant]
You mull it over for a moment, before groaning internally at how soft you've gotten. "I can drive you. It's far out of the way of my destination, but I need to see you safe." Perhaps that was a bit too much, but the woman gives you a shaky yet radiant smile anyhow.

"You will, sir? Oh thank you, thank you!" She leaps up, giving you a bear hug. Your arms stay limp at your side.

You wait a moment for her to let go. Then another. Then one more. Finally, fed up with this contact, you push her arms off of you. "We must get going," you say. She nods, withdrawing from you and falling into step as you walk back to your carriage.

"What's your name?" she asks. "I am Lady Caroline of House Rorens, Fairest Lady of The Western Woodlands."

"Kit of Droburg," you reply, shaking your head slightly at the woman's title.

"Kit of Droburg? Are you not the same Kit that saved our kingdom two decades ago?"

"The one and only. And before you start, don't you dare start worshiping the ground I walk on."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir Kit. It is an honor to meet you."

The conversation drifts off just as the two of you reach the carriage. Bertrand is keeping watch, having dug a crossbow out of the back of the carriage. "Ready to get going, sir?" he asks, but you shake your head.

"Change of plans. We need to make sure Lady Caroline here gets safely to her destination. Elkstern Keep, about two hundred miles west."

Bertrand's eyes practically bulge out of his head, yet he keeps his voice level and calm. "That's far from Castle Oren, sir."

"I know," you say, grunting as you climb onto the carriage, "but I'm sure the king will understand our tardiness." You wait for Caroline to get into the back, then turn to Bertrand. "Let's get going, eh?"

He sighs, before nodding. Spurring the horses on, Bertrand turns the carriage around and begins heading west, in the direction of Elkstern Keep. You have a ways to go, but you know that you made the right choice doing this.

The carriage carries on into the horizon.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
The ride to Elkstern Keep is mostly quiet. Occasionally, Caroline tries to break the silence in an attempt to get to know you, but your grunts and shrugs to her questions discourage her. Bertrand stays silent every time she tries to talk to him. She probably wasn't expecting something like this, but at the very least she's getting to her destination in one piece this way.

A few hours later, you're forced to stop for the night. You use your sword to cut down a small tree, splitting it up into smaller logs to build a fire. As the fire rages, Bertrand sets a few strips of meat on a small metal pan and holds it over the fire. The only sound is the crackling of the fire and the sizzling of the meats; that is, until Caroline decides to speak up. "So where were you two going before you picked me up?" she asks.

"Castle Oren," you reply.

"Castle Oren? I was just leaving there. I was negotiating with the King, he wants to buy some land near Elkstern Keep that's under my domain. He was talking about building a second castle there."

It is Bertrand who replies to that: "Why would he want to do that?"

Caroline shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. Castle Oren is rather old, but it's in great condition. Maybe the King wants to relocate?"

"It could be because of the war," you suggest.

"I've heard the war has been going as it usually does: no real advances on either side. Just an uneasy stalemate occasionally breaking out into a scuffle over the border towns."

"Perhaps the King fears it won't be like that for long, and wants to fall back. Castle Oren is only a few miles from the border, after all."

"Fair point."

Bertrand pulls the pan away from the fire as the strips are done cooking. He takes a few strips of meat in hand then passes the pan to you. You do the same, then pass the pan to Caroline, who looks at it strangely. "Aren't you going to eat?" you ask.

"Yes. I'm just not used to this is all." She hesitantly plucks a strip from the pan, giving it a cautious nibble. She sets the pan down on the ground and continues nibbling slowly on the strip of meat. By the time she's finished her first one, you've been finished for a few minutes and are laying down to sleep.

In the morning, the three of you pack up your things and get back into the carriage. You estimate that you're about a week's ride from Elkstern Keep, if you keep this pace up. Maybe you and Bertrand can alternate between driving the carriage while the other sleeps in the back to make the most out of the time you have.

It's about midday when Caroline finally pipes up from the back: "So tell me, why were you going to Castle Oren?"

Feeling in a generous mood today, you reply, "To meet the King."

Caroline laughs. "Well of course you were meeting the King, but why were you meeting him?"

"He wanted my help with the war effort. Drive the Kishak back to their own country."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I suppose there's no one who could do the job better. That man, the other day... I take it he wasn't the first one you've killed?"

"Wasn't the first, likely won't be the last."

She's quiet for a moment, likely considering your answer, before piping up again. "... What was the first one like?"

You consider the question for a moment. Your first kill. You haven't thought back on that day in a long time. It was about a week into your journey, and you and your companions had gotten into quite a bit of trouble. A group of Marauders, vicious barbarians and raiders, had ambushed you on the road. They weren't interested in killing you like most, though; no, they had something much more sadistic in mind.

You can still remember the screams. Just a kid, a year younger than you were. Had his whole life ahead of him. And they peeled the flesh from his bones. Took their time. Used a jagged rock. Lasted for hours. Felt like years. When the screaming stopped they were still peeling the meat off him. Cooked it. Ate it. Would've been you next. Fortunately for you they got distracted and left a single guard there.

You can still remember the way he struggled under your firm grip. Busted down the rusty cage door and charged right for him. Tackled him next to the fire. Choked him out for a bit. When that proved to be taking too long, you grabbed the pot of water boiling over the fire. Poured it all over his face. The scalding hot water peeled the skin from his face, and he screamed louder than the boy did. You shut him up by smashing his skull in with the pot.

When you freed your friends and escaped, they didn't look at you the same way for a while. You did what you had to do. You knew that. They knew that. Two weeks had passed when they started acting normal again. But you remember the looks in their eyes, remember the fear they held. That day you proved what you were capable of, and they were terrified of you until the day they died. You wish you could take it all back.

"Sir Kit? Were you going to tell me?" Caroline's voice snaps you out of your recollection. She looks concerned. "You've been spaced out for a few minu-"

"Stop."

"What?"

"Stop. Stop asking questions you don't want to know the answers to."

For a moment, there is silence. Then, you hear the cover of the wagon being drawn back, indicating that Caroline has retreated back into it. You sigh, then dig one of the bottles of wine out of your knapsack. You need it.

Bertrand doesn't ask questions when he sees you drinking. Just nods and continues driving.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
The next day of your trip goes by quietly. There's nothing but the open road ahead of you. Any travelers pass you by without a second thought, and aside from Bertrand and Caroline you haven't interacted with anyone since the highwaymen. It's peaceful, almost too peaceful; usually it means something will happen, and it comes when you least expect it. Of course, your gut is right on this one.

On the third day of traveling, just a day or so away from Elkstern Keep, you come across a bridge and force Bertrand to stop. The bridge is large, wide enough to fit three carriages side by side and about half a mile long. It stretches over a canyon, a long drop into a rapid river below. You see men in ragged clothing milling about; they haven't seen you yet, but if you move forward they will. By their looks, they won't be too friendly.

If you tried to go around, you'd lose a day of time. Safer, yes, but you really just want this to be over and done with. The bridge is risky but you're sure that you can defend the carriage. You look to Bertrand and nod. "Keep going."

He nods, spurring the horses into gear. "Think we'll run into any opposition, sir?"

"Not sure. Probably, though. Keep that crossbow ready." Bertrand nods and grabs the crossbow with one hand, keeping the other on the reins. The carriage continues on, heading towards the bridge. You draw closer to the men, who turn their heads and finally see you. Quickly, they start moving, grabbing weapons and preparing for you to come by. You notice one poking his head out.

"Take that one out!" you point him out to Bertrand, who shifts the crossbow and fires. The bolt flies true, hitting the man in the forehead. He slumps over, and his companions immediately open fire with a volley of arrows and bolts. You raise the flat of your sword and hold it up, using it as a makeshift shield. You and Bertrand are spared from most of them, but an arrow manages to hit him in the leg.

"Shit!" you shout, then jump off the carriage and begin sprinting towards the men. They shift their focus from the carriage to you, firing more arrows and bolts in your direction. You keep your sword raised to deflect any projectiles coming your way, and through sheer luck, you manage to get to the men with only the faintest of grazes to show for it. They back off and drop their ranged weapons, readying knives and rusty swords.

You swiftly dodge the first swing that comes your way, then back hand the man who attacked. He staggers back with a split lip, and you move in fast by smashing his face with the pommel of your sword. He falls to the ground, dropping his sword and clutching at his broken nose. You don't have time to finish him off, as another blade comes your way, then another, and another. Raising your blade, you deflect most of the blows and dodge others. However, one of the bridge men gets a lucky hit through, cutting your side. You hiss in pain but push on.

Quickly jumping back, you assess the situation. There's still more down the way, keeping crossbows and longbows at the ready, while there's a group of about six heading right for you. They're all clustered up close, as though they believe that will make it harder for you. If anything, it'll make it easier.

You rear your sword back, waiting for them to get close enough...

Then swing.

The massive blade cuts through three before it gets stuck in the ribcage of the fourth one. The three you managed to hit fall to the floor in pieces, flecks of blood spraying onto you and their remaining allies. You pull your sword out of the fourth man, who falls to his knees and screams in agony for his mother, before swinging yet again. His cries are cut off as the blade cuts through his skull, and out the other side to take down the remaining two.

You pant, catching your breath. You don't have long though, as a bolt flies true and lands in your shoulder. You stumble back with a curse, and nearly fall into the canyon were it not for the rail you grabbed onto. A horn pierces the quiet of the bridge, and you know what it means: they're calling for reinforcements. You're not sure if you can take on these men, let alone more.

The river is seeming awfully tempting. Maybe you can survive the fall and be carried away to some place safer...

[User] No. You've got to defend your companions. You'll fight as long as you have to.

[Assistant]
You steel yourself and stumble away from the edge of the bridge. No. You're not going to let them down. Using that stored up adrenaline within you, you push forward with a primal yell, charging straight for the archers. They fire at you, but you ignore the arrows and bolts flying your way. Occasionally one manages to graze you, a scant few even hit you, but you ignore it as best you can. You've got a fight to win.

The first one loses his head. The seconds his arms, then a stab through the chest. The third drops his crossbow as if in surrender, only to be sliced clean in half. You continue on like this, no longer seeing men but instead an army of targets you need to tear down. Half way through these ones, more targets come running down the bridge. You finish off the remaining archers, then ready yourself in preparation for the others.

You're not sure how long the fight lasts. All you know is that by the end of it, you're using your sword to keep yourself standing. The carriage slows to a stop, and Bertrand hops off to help you into the back of the wagon. You're still on edge enough that you snarl at him, like a wild hound defending its territory. He doesn't back off, and soon you're lying on the floor in the back of the wagon.

A woman is there, digging through your supplies and pulling out a roll of bandages. Caroline. She sets to work immediately, pulling out bolts and arrows and wrapping them up as best as she can. Her hands are left bloodied from the work, but in the end you're much better off than you were. She smiles. "You'll get proper healing at Elkstern Keep."

She continues speaking, but the words fade away, and you slip into unconsciousness.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
When you wake up, it's in a bed. You're covered in bandages, and though your body aches it seems your wounds are gone. There must be a healer here. In the bed to your right, a person stirs, and you shift to get a good look at them. There lays Bertrand, flipping through a leather bound book. "I see you still live, sir," he says, dog-earing the page he's on and closing the book.

"Sorry to disappoint you," you chuckle.

A small laugh escapes Bertrand's lips. "No, sir. I'm happy to see you're still among us." He pauses. "We got here yesterday afternoon, sir. The healer set to work immediately. You'll be okay if you rest for a few days."

"That so? Where's Caroline?"

"She's still here, sir. Likely in her chambers. She said she'd come visit later."

"Alright." You sigh and close your eyes. You made it to Elkstern Keep, and you and Bertrand are still relatively intact.

You consider what you should do now. You'll be extremely late for your meeting at Castle Oren. The King may not like it, but if he truly needed you, he'd excuse it. Still, something about this... Felt better than fighting some meaningless war you have no investment in. Maybe...

You must have been thinking for much longer than you thought you were, as Caroline steps into the infirmary and immediately gives Bertrand a bear hug. Your servant pats her slowly on the back, and she breaks away after a moment to move onto you. The hug is so tight, it makes the aching turn into a sharp sting, and you hiss in pain. Caroline withdraws.

"I'm so glad you two are alright. Thank you for all that you've done for me, I can't repay you," she says.

You wave your hand and shake your hand. "No, no, everything is fine. Just letting us rest here a few days is good enough."

She gives a worried look. "Are you sure? I can give you supplies, or money, or..."

"Nothing. It's fine. Thanks for visiting us."

Caroline nods. The three of you talk for a while, though it's mostly her thanking you profusely and continually offering help, which you turn down. After about an hour, a man comes in and informs her that she's needed in the entrance hall. Caroline sighs, but nods at the man.

Before she leaves, she turns to you and Bertrand one last time. "I know I've been saying it a lot, but thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you hadn't saved me and escorted me here, I don't know what I'd have done." With those words, she departs.

After she leaves, you once again wonder what you'll do now.

[User] You maybe you can keep helping people. Damn the King and his war, you'll help people in other ways.

[Assistant]
Yes. You can keep helping people. That's what you should do, what your friends would have wanted you to do. It's what the hero you used to be would have done in this situation. As much as you've tried to drown that boy with alcohol, you know that deep down he's still in there. Maybe, it's time to let him back out.

You voice your thoughts to Bertrand. "Damn the King's summons. After all this, I think I want to keep helping people. Will I have you by my side, Bertrand?"

Your servant smiles at that. "Of course, sir. I was hoping you'd say that."

You nod your head a few times. "Okay. Okay."

For now, you have a few days to rest. When you're done, you'll leave Elkstern Keep, and set out to right any wrongs you find. After all, that's what a hero does.

The sun is high in the sky. It's a new beginning.

THE END


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

[User] You be slow and careful. Mindful of your surroundings.

[Assistant] You tread through the hedge maze quietly, avoiding guards by hiding behind the hedges when you see them and being slow and careful otherwise. Before long, you find yourself in front of the mansion's backdoor, unscathed and with the guards none the wiser of your presence.


[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 weapons training

[Assistant]
The man leads you to a table along the side of the wall of the warehouse. The table has a number of small weapons on it and some other devices that you cannot recognize. He shows you how the smaller weapons work and how you can make them on your own. He shows you a number of the other devices and how they can be combined to make different types of explosives that can be used for different purposes. He explains how to focus and aim both the improvised devices and the explosives so that you do not get hurt yourself.
The man looks at you and says, "We are out of time. You are either ready or you are not ready. And that is what we will determine now." He turns and walks over to a door in the rear of the room and disappears through it. You are alone in the large warehouse, wondering if you were supposed to follow the man.
You have trained the following levels of skills:
Stealth: 1
Charm: 1
Weapons: 1


[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 can take them out, they're just goons.

[Assistant]
Huntress looks surprised when you charge forward, tackling a goon to the ground and beginning to beat him to a bloody pulp. The other goon is shocked as well, backing away in a start, and Huntress uses the opportunity to take him out by swinging right into his head. However, when she does so, the thug lets out a loud scream of pain. Soon, you hear footsteps converging on your position.

"Oh, great going, Q!" Huntress shouts, readying her fists and goons surround you.

"It was your fault, you took him out!" you reply, sending a cross punch into a thug's face.

"Because you had to charge in like Galahad!" she retorts, kicking a goon in the nads.

Your conversation is cut off as you both jump right into the fray.

[User] The Penguin's Office

[Assistant]
As you slip into the large office and look around, you almost let out an impressed whistle. Say what you will about the deformed supervillain, he has some taste when it comes to decoration.

Huntress strides forward to Penguin's desk, the villain sitting in his chair which has its back to you. "Penguin," Huntress says, aiming her crossbow at the chair. "Turn around."

The chair slowly swivels around, Penguin's beady eyes staring at the two of you as his face twists into a sneer.

"Hm. Huntress. And... Some faceless guy in a Dick Tracy outfit."

Ouch.

"What is it you want?"

"Answers," you say, stepping up to the desk as well. "Are you involved with the murders Huntress has been framed for?"

"I'll have you know," Penguin begins, "that I don't have the slightest idea as to what you're talking about."

"Cut the shit, Cobblepot," Huntress growls, aiming her crossbow right in between Penguin's eyes, "what do you know?"

Penguin lets loose a chilling chuckle, "You do realize that if I cared to do so, I could call in one of my men and he could apprehend you? Or maybe I could call the police and say how I'm being attacked by a psychotic vigilante? And on the off chance you still decide to shoot me, you should realize my PR department could turn the public against you and tear you to shreds."

Huntress's grip on the crossbow falters slightly, but she keeps it aimed at him. "Just tell me what you know, Cobblepot."

"Threats will do you no good."

"Tell the truth, Penguin. Or I'm going to step in," you threaten, looming over him menacingly. He looks up at you, shuddering almost imperceptibly.

"I am telling the truth. I don't know anything about those frames. Now would you get out of my office? I have work to do."

Huntress prepares to let loose a bolt, but you stop her by placing a hand on her shoulder. You feel her tense up slightly. "Huntress. Relax. He's telling the truth. I can tell."

Her finger tightens slightly...

She lets the bolt fly, right into Penguin's shoulder. He lets out a hiss of pain, glaring at Huntress. "You... Bitch. Looks like I'll have to sic my lawyers on you after all."

"Have fun, lardass." She spits at him, then heads out through the window. You follow not far behind, a worried expression on your face.

[User] You continue

[Assistant]
A few blocks away from the Iceberg Lounge, you and Huntress stop for a chat. "What the hell were you thinking?" you hiss.

"Just double checking," she mutters bitterly, "I had to make sure he wasn't holding out on us. He would have squealed if he knew anything."

"That's why everyone thinks you committed those murders," you snap, "because you're insane!"

"Pot and kettle, Q." Huntress replies, glaring at you.

With a sigh, you just shake your head. "... Look, we still have to see Cassamento. Let's go."

The raven-haired woman just shakes her head, grappling away. You follow her to Cassamento's.


[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 run to the shelter

[Assistant]
"Nina, we're getting in the shelter NOW!" you grab her hand and run to the shelter entrance, upon seeing this others begin to follow your lead as the motorcycle rumble gets closer.

You Nina and Jack get in the elevator first, and everyone else starts to crowd inside unfortunately everyone is shoving and pushing to get in, but there simply isn't enough room not allowing the door to close.

"GET OUT! THE ELEVATOR CAN'T CLOSE!" You yell.
"FUCK YOU! YOU GET OUT!" someone shouts back.

Desperate times call for desperate measures…

You pull your gun out and start shooting in the ceiling of the elevator, causing folks to run out.
"GET OUT! THIS IS OUR RIDE!" you shout and push the door button, taking one last look of the frightened crowd as the doors close.

On the way down Nina holds on to Jack trying calm him down. She looks at you with silent disbelief. She can't believe you actually sacrificed all those people just like that, the men, the women, and the children.

"Don't look at me like that Nina! I did what I did to save us! This is fuckin' survival Nina! You know that!" you retort.

When the elevator reaches the bottom, Nina runs back to your room with Jack and you quickly get something to jam the door open, so the elevator can't go back up again. You see Charles come out from the computer room. He must've been the only one down here to keep an eye on the computer.

"What's going on? Why are you blocking the elevator door?"
"We're under fucking attack and I can't let those fuckers come down here!"
"But what about everyone else?! You can't just leave them up there! You're the only one with a proper weapon!"
"Hey that's tough! I mean I'm sorry all those people are in deep shit right now, but that ain't my concern, my family is MY concern!"
"You heartless bastard! What about all the other families you left to probably die up there?! I always knew you weren't fond of people, but I never thought you'd go to this extent! Well if you're not gonna do anything I will! Get outta my way, I'm going up!"

You shove Charles back hard.

"What the fuck are you gonna do Charles? You ain't a fuckin' hero! This ain't like those old movies you watch! You're a fat outta shape fuck, you wouldn't stand a chance! Shit you don't even have a weapon!"
"Well gimme yours then!" Charles says trying to take your pistol. You push Charles back even harder, when that doesn't work, you hit him with face with the butt of the gun causing him to fall back.
"Don't even fuck around like that Charles." You warn pointing the pistol at him.

He doesn't seem to understand you're being deadly serious here; he makes another attempt by charging at you. You shoot him three times before he falls dead at your feet.

Nina comes running from your room to see what's happened now, she's horrified. Your actions within the past few minutes have severely changed her view about you.

"He was trying to go to the surface! I can't allow that, we have to remain down here where it's safe! Who knows how long those fuckers will stay around! I'm trying to protect all of us!" you shout.

Days pass and things are strained between you and Nina. She doesn't approve at all of what you did. A lot of those people she was friends with. She says you did it purposely just so you could get more of your precious solitude and while that isn't true, you can't help but feel things are a lot better without anybody else around…

A year passes since the invasion, you used to keep an eye on the elevator door on a regular basis, but lately you haven't bothered. Nina has been distant with you ever since that day. Sometimes you're all right with each other, but more often than not you argue. If it wasn't for Jack, the both of you would probably just stay on opposite sides of the shelter.

One day you wake up and look for the both of them, but you can't find them anywhere then it suddenly occurs to you where they've gone. To the surface. You immediately press the call button and shut "Come on! Come on!" at the elevator's slow descent. You do the same thing when you're going up.

You rush outside wondering where the hell Nina thinks she was off to, considering there's no knowledge of any beacons of civilization nearby. You figure she couldn't have gotten far and you're right, she's surveying the remains of the invasion. Everything that was built on the surface was destroyed, and it looks like nobody was spared. You see skeletal remains littered everywhere. She's crying while holding on to Jack and then speaks when she sees you.

"See what you did!"
"Hey I didn't do THIS! The wasteland scum did this! What the hell Nina? I only have so many bullets, and I didn't even have my spare clips with me at the time! I couldn't shoot them all!"
"Oh, but you could shoot Charles right?"
"Now that was…"
"Or how about Elliot? Remember when you shot him and claimed it was self-defense?"
"That WAS Self-defense! Nina, you're acting like a stupid bit…" you stop yourself from completing that sentence, calm yourself and then continue. "Look, I did what I did to protect us, I didn't want any of us getting killed. Let's all just go back inside the shelter and…"
"Get your hands off of me! I'm not going back in there with YOU! I can't stand to look at you anymore, even if it is a rarity nowadays!"
"So whadda ya gonna do Nina? Take Jack traipsing across the fuckin' wasteland and hope you don't get raped and killed before you die of dehydration? In case you haven't noticed, but this is IT! There probably ain't another place like this for miles! And if there is, I bet it damn near isn't as comfortable OR friendly! Look Jack needs the both of us here and…"
"Jack doesn't need YOU! You're barely spend time with him anyway! I can't do it anymore I can't spend one more day in that shelter with you after seeing what you did a year ago!"
"NINA SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET BACK IN THE GODDAMN SHELTER NOW!"

Now Jack begins to cry, and Nina attempts to make him stop, and now you see this situation isn't going to go away even if you dragged them both into the shelter kicking and screaming. Yet despite all this, you can't let Nina and Jack leave, you do the only other solution.

"Oh fuck it. Here." You pull out your pistol and shove it into Nina's hand. She doesn't accept it at first until you force her take the thing. After she finally holds it, you start to leave. Nina calls out.

"Where are you going?"
"Oh now you show concern? I'm leaving Nina, you said you can't live here with me since I now repulse you so much, so I'm doing what's best and fuckin' leaving, because whether you believe it or not I do what's best for this family. I'll leave and probably die somewhere out in the wilderness or if you still have any kind of feelings for me, you'll save me a lingering death and just shoot me now. Either way, I'm gone. Jack, take good care of your Mom, she gets a bit high strung at times. The computer's easy to run, just read the damn manual. That's what I always told everyone else. Both of you have a nice life."

You turn and begin to walk, you start wondering how long you're going to last without any kind of supplies, you didn't even bring a canteen with you. What does it all matter now anyway? Fuck it right?

You turn your head and see Nina and Jack just entering the shelter entrance. You shake your head, wondering where you went wrong. Where all the love went so damn quickly. Maybe she was right in some ways, maybe you were too ruthless. You just wanted to save them so badly though, you didn't want to lose them. Of course you did anyway.

You turn your head again, now you just see Nina. What the hell is she doing now? You hope to god she didn't have some change of mind suddenly. Because you know what's going to happen, she'll ask you to come back, and like an idiot you probably will, and then things will be semi-okay and then they'll get worse again and you'll be back to this again. At this point you don't feel like putting up with the shit anymore either. Just let it go Nina, just let it the fuck go. You made your decision now stick fuckin' by it.

Once more you turn your head; she's walking briskly towards you…with your pistol in her hand. She has an unemotional look on her face. Reminds you of when she was going to throw Ron and his boy toy into exile that one time. You always knew she had a darker side to her, looks like its coming out one last time.

You slow down your walking so she can catch up to you quicker, until finally you stop altogether. You don't turn you head anymore; you want to make this easy on her.

Now you feel the metal barrel to your head. Your last thought on this burned out world are:

"She did still care."


[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 kill Helen

[Assistant]
You already got one sister to worry about; you aren't about to worry about another one. If you're going to have to kill someone on your wedding day anyway, you might as well get in the practice.

You aren't exactly looking forward to doing it, but you don't see much choice. The question is how to go about it without making it look suspicious.

You take a glance around the room and see a window. You're only on the second floor though, if you pushed her out of it, it might not kill her immediately. You then think maybe you could choke her first then throw her out…

Yes, that's what you'll do. Choke her and throw her out the window. It'll look like a suicide and if anyone asks, you'll just tell them the truth, she was in love with Bobby and was having a hard time coming to terms with him marrying you so out the window she went.

You walk over to Helen and sit next to her on the bed.

"Helen will you stop crying for one moment?" you ask which causes her to comply.

You take a deep breath and exhale.

"Okay, You seem genuinely distraught about all this…so this is going to make this harder." You say and then you punch Helen in the face as hard as you can.

Helen yelps and falls back on the bed and you pounce on her immediately with your hands wrapped around her throat.

"Suzy…no! No! You…(cough)…" Helen squeaks out and attempts to hit you, but you ignore the pain and focus all your strength on her throat.

"Shhhhh….Helen, stop struggling, just let go." you say wishing she wasn't making this so hard.
"Bobby…he…help…" she utters with tears in her eyes.

This pitiful plea that she utters almost causes you to stop choking her, but you've come too far now. You can't stop. The only thing you can do is get it done and try not to feel too sick about it, because you almost feel like you're going to throw up.

Helen's face turns a different shade and you continue to focus on your grim work at hand. Eventually her squeals and punches disappear altogether when you successfully crush her windpipe and deprive her of any more oxygen.

And the deed is done. You've killed a person and you feel pretty terrible even though you know it had to be done.

You're exhausted and emotionally drained as you sit there straddling Helen's dead body. You choke back tears, though you no longer can contain the rising illness and you immediately sprint off of her and the bed and vomit into a small wastepaper can in her room. You don't even think about the fact that you're going to have to clean it or all the loud noise your retching is making.

Not that it mattered since Diana was apparently listening in and spying on you both the whole time.

When you lift your head up out of the trash can still recovering from your bout of sickness, you look up just in time to see Diana's swing a bat upside your head. You collapse on the floor, tipping over the trash can causing it to spill your sick back on to you.

"Guess you didn't want any more competition huh? You had the right idea though and I do thank you for saving me the trouble. Now I can legitimately blame Helen's death on you and I was merely coming to the aid of my poor late sister. I can see I was just being tested…Tiamat's glorious chaos sure works in mysterious ways." Diana says and then hits you in the head with another bat swing.

And then another…and then another…and then another…


[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 leave

[Assistant]
Maybe Isabella throwing you out is a good thing. While you were officially "free" you never really felt that way since you always sort of felt indebted to her.

Hell, maybe that's why you started your relationship with Heather in the first place. You sub-consciously wanted to get caught…though that was a pretty stupid way to go about it. Isabella could have easily been so pissed at you that she killed you.

However as it turned out luck favored the foolish, which is ironic considering you just recently had a hand in slaughtering a temple of Yag.

In any case, you realize that with nothing tying you to this area anymore, you might as well just leave. You don't have any real feelings for Heather, and she's already made it clear your presence there is inconvenient. You've also long since lost interest in Holgard and you can go hunt for blood anywhere.

You've never been, but you decide to head towards the Delantium Kingdom. Should be big enough for you to thrive in and better yet, nobody to answer to at all.

You aren't sure what your future holds in your new independent vampire life, but your days of being a simple rogue are definitely over.


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

[User] You go explore on your own

[Assistant]
"Ah what's to know? I'll figure everything out on my own. I'm getting a drink of water and checking out my new computer."

As you proceed to do this, the Shelter begins to warn you again.

"Sir, I don't think you should have a cup of water near the computer like that, if it spilled on it, it could cause trouble in my systems. Maybe you should read the Shelter manual. Particularly the chapter on safety."
"Will you leave me alone? Hey what's this? This is the fuckin' internet?"
"It's a limited networking system to other shelters. Sir, your cup of water! You're going to spill it!"
"No I'm…"

BUZZZ!

You spill your water on the keyboard and short something out. It sparks and suddenly erupts a small flame! You immediately run out of the room and notice the light dimming a bit.

"Sir, I'm afraid that something vital has been compromised sir, I am attempting to correct…"
"Shelter! Isn't there a fuckin' extinguisher somewhere?!"
"I'm afraid not sir, I was supposed to be equipped with one, but there were budget cuts…"
"Well what about a sprinkler system!?"
"Budget cuts…and might I point out that, it would most likely make the electrical fire worse."

Lacking any other ideas, you run to grab a sheet from the bedroom and hope to smoother the flame like you remember seeing in an old GI Joe cartoon. Unfortunately due to the lighting flickering on and off, you trip and smash your leg really good causing a limp. By the time you return the fire has spread a little more and now it's giving off smoke and the smell of ozone is hitting you. That shit can't be good for you to breathe in.

"Goddamn it! Didn't these fuckers understand the concept of insulated wiring!?"
"It is sir…well most of it…there were…"
"I know! Fuckin' budget cuts! Close the door, maybe the fire will burn itself out!"

Normally the Shelter would know to wait for you to get out of the room first, but the fire is wreaking havoc on its command systems right now and it isn't as responsive as it should be, or in this case too responsive since the door slams shut with you inside.

"NO! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"
"I-I-I am att-ttempting to sir, my power levels a-a-re…"

Suddenly electrical arcs begin generating from the computer which is now totally engulfed in flames, in desperation you vainly attempt to open the metal door, which probably wasn't the best idea as the entire room has become charged with electricity. You receive a nasty shock which throws you back, right into the fire.

Your last agonizing moments as your flesh toasts and burns, are you seeing the door opening up.


[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 training (Optional)

[Assistant]
You have talked with Ragnor at length on how you'll be running your operation on the City. What you both want to do is extremely difficult, even with the combined power of all the Wolves. The only chance you have is if the less-experienced Wolves learn from the best-- Gideon, Ragnor, and you. Not necessarily in that order either, since you have no idea what a werewolf is capable in full-form, nor do you know how you rank between them or even how they rank between each-other. Gideon is terrifyingly muscular, but Ragnor seems to be much faster. Any sparring matches you've had with either seemed to be somewhat held-back, for whatever reason.

Still, the main plan appears to be that, after some hand-picked scouts tell you three when the Zealots are coming, silently break through one of the cities defenses, and drop you in. While you cause mayhem inside the streets of the City, Gideon and Ragnor's two groups will be pushing through the City's walls, and fighting from in there. Supposedly the head of Church is an old man who runs the whole shebang, a certain, 'Father Tomas'. Once you kill him, the Church will be extremely vulnerable. After that? Well, you just hope the humans don't continue resisting, otherwise it'll be a slaughter.

Although you're going in by yourself (and maybe David, for ironic reasons), you're still tasked to help train the other Creations with Ragnor and Gideon. Over the days, what was probably most exciting' (aside from the shock of lovely Cecilia turning into a hulking were-wolf) part was your sparring match with Gideon. You can't help but feel both of you held back, however slightly, but it was likely of great education value to the other Creations.

"Alright Vampy, give it all you got."

Ha, worry about yourself.

You stand, parallel to Gideon, in a surprisingly flat part of the desert. The other Creations surround you both stripped down to nothing but basic shirt and pants, readying yourselves for an honest fight. As ugly of a creature Gideon is, he really is a mellow guy, which makes you almost not want to get into any scuffle with him, even if it's ust sparring. Still, you ready yourself to attack. You flick out your wrist, causing claws to edge out. The crescent moon lies above you both, and the hunchback chuckles as he slowly moves toward you, shuffling one foot through the sand at a time. You took your time as well, starting with a brisk walk, turning that momentum into a jog, then using that into all-out sprinting...

Gideon suddenly stops, and holds his hands out to block your advancing. When you reach him, you bring a clawed hand down, hoping to catch his shoulder; you succeed, though he remains unfazed, grabbing at your ankles while you deftly try to flip over him; that doesn't work. His palms squeeze at your feet, and he slams you onto the sand, using his weight to force you down. Thankfully, the rush of adrenaline, allows you to overpower him, throwing him off you. Once again parallel, he decides it's hsi turn to claw at you and he aims a long-winded at your gut-- your body twists, barely letting it hit, though allowing you to bring your elbow down to his neck.

He falls to the floor with a slump, though seems to quickly recover by holding you by his feet. You fall down as well, though you catch yourself with a roll, and get right back up. Gideon, however, gets up as Gideon no longer.

It was the first time you saw Gideon in his were-form. Massive, with a snout longer than an arm, silvery fangs almost as large as the L-bayonet itself, and white fur overlaying his entire body. You've seen other werewolves turn, but it's obvious why Gideon is the alpha-wolf around here. While you marvel at the werewolf, he sends a massive fist to crash down on you-- but you quickly jump out of the way. Unsure what you can do, you turn to your own fangs; they aren't nearly as powerful as his, but they have other uses other than killing. Gideon continuously deals out attacks, and you manage to dodge nearly all of them, only a couple giving you scrapes. The Wolf leaps at you, waving all of it's bulking appendages in your direction. As it nears closer to you, you see an opening...

You took a leap of faith, catching Gideon in the neck with your own fangs. It was only the next morning when you woke, moved to the hideout once more.

"That was an epic fight." One of the teen-wolves say, glaring at you in awe. Gideon was to the side of your bed, sitting up and laughing.

"Very good, Vampy. Nice use of your abilities, those fangs exhaust people way easy, even those pumped up on canine-adrenaline. Crazy effective. You hear that, Wolves? Someone who knows the full-outset of their abilities is a dangerous fellow."

And that's how you remember it. Even though Gideon helped train the Wolves to fight, you worry about him. He doesn't seem too enthusiastic about taking over the city. Hopefully he changes his mind soon...


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

[User] You leave them human

[Assistant]
You're not rewarding these people any more than you have to. These mortals are just going to have to work harder.

The rest of the month passes and fortunately they seem to be making better progress with the project, should be done by next month at least.

Before that happens you go over to Green Eye's mine to pick up your tribute. There's a single hobgoblin guard at the entrance with a girl looking down the entire time.

"Here's the new tribute. Green Eye says he hopes she is suitable and assures you that she has not been touched by anyone here." The hobgoblin remarks.

You look at the peasant girl who is obviously frightened out of her mind, but too terrified to run or do anything.

"Look at me." You command and lift her chin up so she looks into your eyes. You say a few commanding words to her and soon she loses all will of her own. She then walks away from Green Eye and holds you tightly.

"Shit, wish I had that ability. It would make a whole of things much easier with the missus." The hobgoblin remarks.
"Tell Green Eye, the tribute was suitable." You say and then leave with your tribute to head back home.

The third month rolls around and at last your humans have finished your home. You inspect it and find nothing out of place. It looks like it was reinforced with several pillars and they even tried their best to make it look "homey."

"Do you like it m'lord? We tried to make sure that everything would be comfortable for you and later we can expand on it if you wish." Vic asks in his usual toadying manner.
"Yeah it's fine, and get back! You are entirely too fucking close!" you shout, slapping him.

Honestly it's a far cry from Isabella's crypt, but it's better than sleeping in a dug out hole in the ground in the forest. You're in a mildly jovial mood so you decide to celebrate by spending the night in it not doing much of anything except feeding on and fucking a couple of the village girls. There are no objections obviously.

Night passes into day and while you're fast asleep, you're suddenly awakened by the noise above you. At first you think it's just the villagers being noisy, but by the sounds of yelling and screaming, something else is going on.

"Shit..." you say to yourself already knowing what might be going on.

Since you drank one of the girls dry last night, you tell the remaining living one to go take a quick peek at what's going on. She does so and as soon as she pops her head up from the trapdoor, a gun blast is heard and her body drops from the top of the ladder and on the floor in front of you. Most of her face is blown off.

"Yubin, you bleedin' idjit! Ya supposed ta shoot da pale man! Quick! Reload! Reload!" you hear an orc shout.

Those backstabbing…they are going to rue this day…

You quickly make your way up the ladder and find yourself facing several of Green Eye's boys.

"Shit! Daggers!" the closest orc shouts.

You make quick work of the orc shouting orders and then the one immediately next to him. Several of the humans and halfbreeds attempt to stab you next, and the last one of them just manages to sink his blade into your shoulder before you break his neck.

The pain is more than you expected it to be. It doesn't just feel like a sharp pain, but more like a hot burning sensation all throughout your shoulder and top part of your arm.

You pull it out and see why. The blade is silver.

"Sonof…Argh!" you utter when you feel a blast of gunshot in your back from Yubin who was busily reloading his musket just outside the doorway to the house. The silver in the shot is enough to drop you.

"He's not dead yet! Shoot him! Shoot him again!" you hear Vic shout.
"I can't! I'm outta da stuff! I'm gettin' outta here!" Yubin's remarks and then runs off.
"Shit. HEY! Get Big Tooth over here, we need his help! It's the man who killed his brother anyway!"

You can't believe Vic is working with Green Eye's bandits. When did this happen? Was this always the case? Was it the long con? Did he have some secret meeting recently?

In any case it doesn't matter. Vic and several of the bandits have already returned to the house. One of the bandits, Big Tooth is an ogre. Vic orders him to drag your ass out of the house while the others attempt to help. Normally, you'd be strong enough to resist, but you're partially paralyzed from the silver shot lodged in your spine and it isn't healing anytime soon.

Big Tooth drags you by both legs and while you struggle, even taking down one of the bandits along the way; it doesn't take long before Big Tooth's strength (which is also enhanced due to his anger that you killed his brother last year) manages to get you to the doorway and that's when you start feel the burn of the sun.

You snarl and try to hang on to anything so as to not get dragged all the way out, but the other bandits start hacking at your hands with their silver daggers causing you to eventually lose your grip after losing several fingers.

Big Tooth gives one more pull and you are at last fully exposed to the sun. You roll around screaming in agony as your skin begins to burn.

All around you the village isn't doing too much better, what with some of it being in flames and all. Green Eye's men are finally finishing the job you prevented them from doing last year.

Your last thoughts are of how Isabella was right about this not ending well, just before Big Tooth stomps your burning skull into nothing but bloody brains and bone fragments.


[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 leave the hostage

[Assistant] You can't take in a new member, and you also can't trust him. You leave him tied to the pole, get back in the car, and drive off.


[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 say "Fljght, Fljght"

[Assistant]
You utter the incantation, and the scroll glows faintly before disintegrating into nothing. The glow itself has not faded, however, but has spread to the soles of your feet. With a start, you realise that you are no longer falling, and that your body feels as light as a feather. You are no longer in any danger of plummeting to your death.

Moving forward, you are surprised to find that you can now move in any direction – up and down, too – at will. You have as much freedom as a bird, and can fly through to the air as you see fit. The activated scroll has bestowed this power on you, and you may now fly from here to your heart's content.

Thankfully, the same ability has also been granted to Mother Ghared. Though unconscious, she remains floating in the air before you. You take hold of her body, which you find to weigh scarcely anything at all, and bring her with you as you fly through the open skies. Perhaps she just needs some rest after what she's been through.

With Mother Ghared in tow, you turn to fly from here as far away as you can. You discover that you can only fly at a fixed speed, so there is no way to accelerate. Fear washes over you at the thought that this ability may actually be temporary. What if you could lose this power at any given moment?

With this in mind, you travel away from the ruins of the airship far above you, out into the vast vast open skies. You don't know where you're going, exactly, but anywhere is better than this.


[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 duck

[Assistant]
You duck, but Pak slams his foot up, smashing you in the face. You sumble back and he punches you, sending you toppling to the floor. Pak stands over, stomping on you repeatedly as his weight and muscle breaks your bones as he smashes into you repeatedly as you scream for help.

With your limbs broken and lacking the strength to move, you hope you die of your wounds before something, some enterprising scavenger or worse, finds you.


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

[User] You do nothing

[Assistant]
"I'm not going to deal with that, Orc. I want you to go, and I genuinely mean this, fuck your mother and stop bothering me."

The young orc runs off. Perhaps you were too mean to him. He reminds you of Gruzub, who you loved to degrade, insult and bully. You miss him so much. You sigh. Time to find a drink. Then, many, many more drinks.


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

[User] You leave the mercenary company

[Assistant]
Nope, you're not doing this. This is suicide in your opinion. You have no idea what to expect and it sound a lot more dangerous than anything you've ever faced.

Instead of leaving with them the next day, you go back home. You don't worry about anyone coming after you, but you know you won't be welcomed back into the company again, and you wouldn't want to anyway.

When you get back home, your family and mom in particular ask what happened, you explain it and say you don't want any part of that life. You apologize that you couldn't go through with it, but your mom looks more relieved than anything.

"Well son, I'm just as glad you didn't go get yourself killed over there anyway. You'll be helping us out plenty just by working on the farm like always."

You're glad to hear that. Over the next couple days you fall back into routine again. You still wonder about the future though and you briefly consider the army plan again, but given your short lived experience with mercenary "life" you don't think you're cut out with battle on a regular basis. Plus the Zalan Empire is currently on heightened alert and battle ready status with this Nuro Incident and all.

You resign yourself to the farm life. You play your lute to yourself (and family) when you have the time to do so. It's a simple life.

Two years pass and things have gotten worse. The Necromancer Lord (as he's become to be known) has expanded, even to the point of taking over the Brot Kingdom. The Tulan Kingdom has been totally conquered by a demon army. A Grand Alliance of nations has been formed, but so far they don't seem to be making much progress.

Meanwhile life on the farm is a little harder. Your youngest sister Makana becomes gravely ill during the winter months, but there's not enough money to pay for a healer and most of the clerics have been summoned to battle with the undead or demon hordes. Sadly she dies making the overall mood of the farm a little more depressing. You don't even play anymore, your enthusiasm for music died along with the grim realities setting in.

Another three years pass and things are down right miserable. War is everywhere. The Demons have been taken care of, (You heard your former mercenary captain died in battle with their leader Velzix) but the undead are stronger than ever. Reports even speak of the Necromancer Lord becoming The Great Lich Lord "reborn".

To make things worse, the Zalan Empire has been becoming increasingly tyrannical. In order to help with the war effort they've started bringing back the draft and the talk of ceasing private property to be used for the good of the government. While they say owners will be able to live and still work on their lands and businesses, it will be owned by the Empire.

You know it's only a matter of time when you get a knock on the door by Zalan army troops coming to take you and your brother Mallack away to the army and your family's farm.

Another two year pass….

You're on the eve of battle in a land known as the Garwold Confederacy although it's steadily becoming a giant graveyard now. The undead hordes have been sweeping relentlessly across the entire landscape. Your own company has had to fall back several times. Morale is low. Not that yours was high to begin with. You don't even know how you've survived this long. While you had some battle experience during your time with the mercenary company, it still hasn't prepared you for the horrors you've seen. The undead…you'll never get used to fighting such emotionless creatures that are the embodiment of death and all that's unnatural.

You briefly wonder if your brother Mallack is alright where he's stationed, but it hardly matters at this point.

Battle comes as it always does and you are not so lucky this time. Horrible and powerful creatures known as Blood Specters and Death Knights utterly destroy your side.

You fall to undead blades and chilling touches only rise up and join them in their goal of global genocide.


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

[User] You kill the Key-Bearer with your switchblade

[Assistant] You grab your switchblade and stab it into the center mass of the Key-Bearer. Doctor Kessel notices and lets out a petrified scream, grabbing at your throat. The Key-Bearer's tentacles intertwine around your hand as a green-yellowish pus comes out and begins sticking to your hand. You feel a sharp prick, and then another, and then another, as bone teeth begin to grow slowly out of the tentacles, digging deeply into you. You scream as a black liquid begins to steep out of the teeth and out of your wound as your veins begin to turn black. You scream as your arm goes number, before the numbness begins to spread throughout your body. You let out a mangled cry before it reaches your chest, and finally the darkness consumes you as it stops your heart.


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

[User] You have them killed

[Assistant]
You've spent a lot of time and effort trying to rebuild what these heretics destroyed and now they want your help? You're in no mood.

"I'll spare Dendrin's time and judge you all myself. And that judgment is death, kill this traitor and go wipe out the rest hanging out near our borders." You say.
"No! No wait! Please, you've…." The heretic pleads before one of the Blades cuts his throat. After disposing of him, Glen takes a small group of them to finish off the rest, from what you hear it was easy, but brutal business as usual.

Of course that still leaves a few questions to as who was killing them in the first place. Your guess is if General Ackerson is as sick as the heretic claimed, then perhaps the current power struggle going on involves getting rid of potential wild cards in the nearby region like say groups of fanatical cultists. They are the only nearby major power with battle mages that could reliably emulate the sort of magic the heretics claimed to see.

The only other power that you know of that has a few magic users is the Nalin Empire, but you can't see Brenda bothering with such elaborate tactics. She'd be more likely to just send a traditional group of assassins or even a small platoon of well trained warriors and even then only to get rid of the shadows closest to her borders. The rumor that she's planning to invade Delerg seem like just that, rumors.

Still you tell everyone to keep alert and double your own patrols on the Delerg borders just in case. Not much more you can do except wait.

Weeks and months pass and nobody has invaded or even come close to wandering near the Delerg borders. General Ackerson dies of his illness, the government collapses and Mog takes advantage of the situation, but other than that major change nothing else notable happens in Quala. As for the Nalin Empire, not a peep from them either.

You stick to your usual heightened alert status for a little while longer, and then eventually relent a bit by the year is over.

Year 63

"I KNEW I should've killed that bastard! I KNEW it!" you yell.
"You couldn't have known he'd do something like this." Talia says in an attempt to calm you.
"I should've known that he'd do SOMETHING though! Fuck! If he wasn't dead already, I'd personally find him and kill him myself!"

You're speaking about Cyrus of course. Years after exiling him you have finally heard from him again in a second hand manner which will plunge you into a war with the Nalin Empire. If the rumors weren't true before, they're going to be true soon.

You aren't exactly sure what Cyrus was up to during his years in exile, but if you had to guess it was planning some sort of revenge or looking for a way to redeem himself (In retrospect, it wouldn't surprise you if he had been behind the heretic killings as well)…maybe it was both. Either way the day he assassinated Warden Matron Brenda during a speech to her people the whole time shouting "Down with Empires! Dendrin Forever! Shadows Forever!" is the day he fucked all of you over.

He apparently didn't survive too long after that, but you're guessing he knew it was a suicide mission anyway. Didn't take long before Brenda's successor Tarna declared war on you. Makes perfect sense, seeing as their well-respected leader was killed by a shadow. Doesn't matter if he was a nutter that was acting alone, someone has to pay. Someone also has to be a good scapegoat while Tarna consolidates her own power and gains enough popularity by destroying her predecessor's old enemies.

That someone is you naturally.

While the Nalin Empire has to actually march an army over Quala before reaching you, the situation isn't good. Unlike the first time you fought an Empire, you had a lot more support, even after the Gloom incident, you still had the help of the normal people pissed at the Empire everywhere. The old Empire was also already greatly weakened, corrupt and fighting multiple front battles.

Now? You have no such advantage. The Nalin Empire is a strong power on the rise that is now unified by a very ambitious and focused leader who very much wants to add the destruction of the shadows to the first of her great achievements.

There's also the fact that you're no longer a young man anymore. You're old, tired even. And while you'll fight harder than someone half your age, the fact remains you're not as energetic as you once were.

You bury your hands in your face for a moment just thinking about the shitstorm that is to come. Talia rubs your shoulders.

"We'll get through this. Dendrin saw us see victory over one Empire, he'll let us see victory over another." She says optimistically.

You look up at her to see her smiling back. After all these years you still can't resist her cheerful faith in Dendrin. Quite frankly, you really wish you had listened to Dendrin decades ago when he suggested that you kill Cyrus. You might've avoided a lot of unnecessary conflict throughout your time as Shadow Master.

Too late now and no looking back. You'll deal with this problem as you have with all others that have ever been thrust upon you, which is with a weapon in hand. Not really like you have a choice anyway. You tried to open a dialogue with Tarna, but she isn't interested in speaking to you.

Year 65

You look over at the remainder of your shadows. You know that they will fight to the last and for every one of them that falls, they will take ten enemies with them, but this is your last stand.

By your side stands Talia, even now she holds faith that Dendrin will magically turn the tide of this battle, but you don't see it happening. In fact you haven't spoken to him for quite a while. He probably knows when something is coming to an end. He must be still watching since you all have your shadow magic so he hasn't abandoned you completely.

Seems like he could've at least gave you a "Good luck" speech before battle, but who knows? Maybe he doesn't like goodbyes.

Still, you see no reason you can't give your own.

"Shadows! The enemy is pounding down the door as I speak so I'll make it brief. Whether we live or die here today is irrelevant. What matters is that fight so furiously that we will always be remembered. If we live, then they will remember to never attack us again."

You pause for the next part; because this is what you know will happen.

"If we die…well they will remember the day they almost lost to a force much smaller than themselves. Perhaps a lesson will be learned that those faithful to Dendrin were a force to be reckoned with during their time on this world. And perhaps from there a seed of intrigue will be planted causing some to seek out his wisdom. For while we may die here, we will still live on forever with Dendrin in the afterlife! And there can be no greater reward than that."

It is an inspiring speech and morale is raised. Talia gives you one last hug and kiss afterwards.

"I love you." she says.
"And I love you." you reply back.

The temple doors crack at last and the stone crumbles before the might of the battering ram. Hordes of Nalin troops pour in.

You embrace your final battle.


[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 remain abouard the Bounty with the Mutineers and Christian

[Assistant]
You remain aboard the Bounty with the twenty-five Pirates and watch as the boat containing Bligh and his companions fades away into the distance. Christian quickly assumes command of the ship and the navigating, realizing quickly that Tahiti will be the first place that the Royal Navy will look for you all but that Bligh will not get back to England, if he gets back to England, for at least one year and a ship from England would not arrive at Tahiti at least until the summer of 1791.

Christian sets course for an island called Tubai hundreds of miles south of Tahiti which was sighted once twelve years ago but never visited. On arrival the Bounty is attacked by hundreds of warriors in canoes firing arrows at the ship. You and the other sailors return fire killing twelve of the Natives and forcing the rest to scatter. After three days off the island Christian decides to return to Tahiti to seek supplies and support from among the friendlier Natives there. You return to the welcome shores of Tahiti that June.

[User] The Battle for Tubai

[Assistant]
Christian lets you all stay on Tahiti just ten days, long enough to pick up fresh supplies and twenty-eight Tahitians before sailing back to Tubai to try and seize control of it from the Natives. He builds a Fort which he calls Fort George and tries to man it against all comers. When the Natives attack they are repulsed again and again and sixty-six of them were killed, the only casualty on your side being Seaman Thomas Burkett who is speared through the side. Finally, Christian allows a vote between returning to Tahiti or staying on Tubai. The Pirates vote 16-9 to return to Tahiti. Christian sighs.

"Gentlemen, I will carry you and land you wherever you please. I desire none to stay with me but I have one favor to request: that you will grant me the ship, tie the foresail, give me a few gallons of water and leave me to run before the wind and I shall land upon the first island the ship drives to. I have done such an act that I cannot stay on Tahiti. I will never live where I may be carried home to be a disgrace to my family."

"We shall never leave you Mr Christian," Midshipman Edward Young promises him. "Go where you will!"

After just three months in Tubai Christian sails the Bounty back to Tahiti. There the sixteen men who voted to remain there disembark the ship while Christian remains aboard with eight other companions. You have a decision to make now: you can remain on Tahiti knowing that it will probably be the first place the Royal Navy looks for you and your companions (if they look for you) or you can join Christian in sailing into the unknown to find the most obscure island possible, knowing you will probably never see England again.

[User] You remain on Tahiti

[Assistant]
You remain on Tahiti and in the autumn of 1789 you watch the Bounty sail away for the last time. There is little left to do now but settle down to living among the Tahitians and hope that the first ship to visit the island will be a friendly one. Like many of the Mutineers you get into a long-term relationship with a beautiful Tahitian woman and enjoy long days spent relaxing on the beautiful island and nights of hard-drinking and partying with the locals. Seven months after the Bounty leaves violence erupts, threatening to destroy your peaceful existence.

The problem is Matthew Thompson, a middle-aged and brutal man who alone out of all of you doesn't have a romantic partner as the Native women avoid him. One day there is chaos in the village and you learn that Thompson, drunk on strong spirits, has tried to rape a Tahitian woman but was fought off when her screams brought her brother and other men running to her aid.

You go out of your hut and walk towards Thompson's, as do several of your companions, to find him outside his hut shouting at a small crowd of angry Tahitians to go away. He has a musket in his hands and without warning he raises it and fires it at a man. The bullet passes through a baby the man is holding in his arms and into his chest, killing them both. Reversing the musket Thompson swings it in a wild arc, cracking a woman in the head and knocking her unconscious to the ground. The rest of the crowd flees.

Thompson sensibly flees to the shoreline, steals a canoe and paddles away to a small nearby island called Taiarapu. The rest of you have a meeting with the Tahitians where you emphasize that Thompson's actions had nothing to do with the rest of you and you all condemn his cruelty. The Tahitians accept your explanations, largely because Quartermaster Charles Churchill has been adopted by a local chief and is gaining considerable status among the Natives.

After some talk you decide on what to do: you will send a messenger to Thompson telling him he can safely return to Tahiti and when he comes back one or two of you will steal his muskets and cutlasses from his hut and give him no more to prevent him doing anymore harm. It is a risky thing to do as Thompson is a violent man but Churchill volunteers for the task.

[User] You join Churchill in stealing Thompson's weapons

[Assistant]
You send a Native to Thompson telling him all is forgiven and he can return and a suspicious Thompson dutifully returns to Tahiti. About a week after his return when Thompson is elsewhere you and Churchill sneak into his hut, take his weapons and hide them in your own huts. Thompson is absolutely furious when he discovers the theft unfortunately for you a Native man with a grudge against Churchill tells him who stole the weapons.

You are standing talking to Churchill one day when, without warning Thompson, comes up behind you and shoots you in the back of the head with the musket he has recovered from your hut. You fall instantly dead to the ground and a moment later Thompson shoots and kills Churchill with a second weapon. It might be some consolation for you that your Tahitian friends avenge your death and beat Thompson to dead with rocks later that same day.


[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 take a quick rest

[Assistant] You slouch down to the ground and try to breathe steadily. The pain beings to magnify. You wonder what has happened to the world and if there are more hostile people out there like the guy who attacked you.

[User] You move further to the back of the store

[Assistant] Worried there are more hostiles around, you drag yourself to the back corner of the store.

[User] You access the area

[Assistant] The corner is a bit dark as the natural light hardly reaches there. There also seems to be some rubbish on the floor.

[User] You lay down the corner

[Assistant] You feel a little dizzy so you bring yourself to the dark corner to rest a bit.

[User] You take a short rest

[Assistant] You awaken to the sound of some footsteps nearby. Being a bit startled you pull yourself more into the dark corner. A sharp pain goes rings up from your ribcage.

[User] You listen for the footsteps

[Assistant] After you moved you couldn't hear the footsteps anymore. You try to steady your heart rate and your breathing. After a few minutes you hear the footsteps again.

[User] You stay quiet

[Assistant] A back door opens to your right and it startles you. You feel a cough well up inside you.

[User] You hold in the cough

[Assistant] You place you hand over your mouth as you see a women cautiously come inside. She doesn't really look harmful but who knows what could be on her mind.

[User] You stay hidden and attempt to escape

[Assistant] The woman looks around and beings to check the materials and rubbish scattered around on the floor mostly in the well lit areas. Your cough lets out.

[User] You make a run for the back door

[Assistant] You dash out the back door and hear the woman scream, "Wait! Watch out!!". You take a few steps forward through the door and suddenly fall down into a hole. You are knocked unconscious.


[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 leave the company

[Assistant]
Whatever the Captain is "going through" doesn't involve you. You've got your own concerns. If the world events get so bad that they reach your doorstep, then you deal with it then, but risking your life to the extent of going deep into the heart of demon territory isn't what you signed up for.

You head home and tell your family that it's permanent this time. You explain your reasons and apologize that you won't be bringing in all the extra money like you used to. They aren't mad though, your mom is actually relieved.

"Well son, I'm just as glad you didn't go get yourself killed over there anyway. You'll be helping us out plenty just by working on the farm like always."

You're glad to hear that. Over the next couple days you fall back into routine again. You still wonder about the future though and you briefly consider the army, but you're a little weary of battle on a regular basis now.

You resign yourself to the farm life. You play your lute to yourself (and family) when you have the time to do so. It's a simple life.

Another year passes and things are getting bad. War is everywhere. The Demons have been taken care of, (You heard your former mercenary captain died in battle with their leader Velzix) but the undead are stronger than ever. Reports even speak of the Necromancer Lord becoming The Great Lich Lord "reborn".

To make things worse, the Zalan Empire has been becoming increasingly tyrannical. In order to help with the war effort they've started bringing back the draft and the talk of ceasing private property to be used for the good of the government. While they say owners will be able to live and still work on their lands and businesses, it will be owned by the Empire.

You know it's only a matter of time when you get a knock on the door by Zalan army troops coming to take you (Especially you given your prior battle experience) and your brother Mallack away to the army and your family's farm.

Another two year pass…

You're on the eve of battle in a land known as the Garwold Confederacy although it's steadily becoming a giant graveyard now. The undead hordes have been sweeping relentlessly across the entire landscape. Your own company has had to fall back several times. Morale is low. Not that yours was high to begin with. You don't even know how you've survived this long. While you had lots of battle experience during your time with the mercenary company, you'll never get used to fighting the undead. They are such emotionless creatures that are the embodiment of death and all that's unnatural.

You briefly wonder if your brother Mallack is alright where he's stationed, but it hardly matters at this point.

Battle comes as it always does and you are not so lucky this time. Horrible and powerful creatures known as Blood Specters and Death Knights utterly destroy your side.

You put up a more valiant effort than most, but eventually you fall to undead blades and chilling touches only rise up and join them in their goal of global genocide.


[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 quickly flee

[Assistant] You're unwilling entirely to let those mouths get you or get close to you. You quickly backpedal, heading to the relative safety of next to the lake.


[System] Narrate a grim fantasy text adventure. The Empire's world is brutal, its people hardened. Respond to the player's choices with immersive storytelling and let consequences flow naturally.

[User] You attack Nicodemus

[Assistant]
While the Emperor might've been afraid of this man, you have no such fear. You're going to succeed where your father failed. You draw your weapon with one hand and cast a spray of ice at Nicodemus with the other.

He's not even fazed; he's not even all that surprised. Ignoring the frost on his body he merely stares at you and suddenly you feel severe drain of your energy. Like when Cyrus was clutching your throat, but this is even faster. You drop like a rock in water, unable to stop Nicodemus from approaching you.

"(Sigh) If I didn't know better I'd think that Casimir had succeeded in transferring himself into you, but you are not Casimir. You're not even half as powerful as he was. You are a confused child that's desperately and misguidedly still trying to prove yourself to an uncaring father figure. Under different circumstances, you'd be a figure of pity and mercy. However you do have the potential to be very dangerous and I can see that you've not listened to a single thing I've tried to tell you today. You probably never will either. May you find some sort of peace in death that you obviously couldn't find in life." Nicodemus remarks.

You can't even respond back, your whole body is becoming lethargic and numb. Your heartbeat starts slowing down, and your vision begins to darken. Soon you can't see anything at all and surrender to eternal sleep.


[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 brush him off.

[Assistant]
You have a pleasant conversation until he gets off--at your terminal, but you don't mention that. You ride the tram around the whole airport a few times and then decide to get off at Terminal D, since you assume the goblins are watching the tram stop at Terminal C.

As soon as you get off, they spot you. You try to run, but that works about as well as you'd expect for someone with a broken ankle. They catch you. And they do, indeed, kill you.


[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 check out the House, beds are too big to loot right?

[Assistant]
You head over to the house to see what might be left behind and are quickly disappointed. The entire place has been ransacked with whatever was left destroyed, you do find human remains in the basement though. "looks like this is where they tried to hide from the infected or looters, had no idea that a single old trapdoor was not a good defense against attackers" You think to yourself as you examine the smashed in wooden trapdoor. This place will be useless for shelter, there isn't a single whole door in the place.

You head back outside and wander over to the Barn, may as well check it now that you are this close, again though you are disappointed. The entire place is also picked clean and the second level where you hoped to rest for the night has been collapsed down onto the floor. This place will be useless for shelter.