[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 stay and offer assistance.

[Assistant]
"I guess there's no harm in seeing what they want," you say. "You and Meredith are right; this could just be somebody who needs assistance."

"All right, then." Berringer pulls what looks like a cordless phone out of his pocket. "Mark, slow her down," he says to the yacht's captain. "We have people approaching from starboard, and we want to see what they're about."

Within seconds you feel the Big Papi begin to slow. The giant wake the boat had been cutting across the ocean seems to catch up with the bow as you come to a full stop.

The incoming boat is so far off, though, that it takes quite a while to reach you. Berringer lets you keep the binoculars so you can study the two people as they get closer.

"Anybody we know?" he asks.

You see what appears to be a young couple in a red Zodiac; the woman is steering the boat while the man is peering back at you through a set of binoculars of his own.

"I've never seen these people before in my life," you say.

The three of you move to the stern, where the Sun Deck with its pool and array of empty lounge chairs sits a little closer to the water. A quarter of an hour passes, however, before the little red boat comes close enough that you are able to make voice contact with its passengers. The blond woman steering the red Zodiac cuts the outboard engine as the inflatable boat continues to drift closer to the Big Papi.

"That's an impressive little canoe you guys are riding!" the man says, eyeing Berringer's yacht from stem to stern. He sports a well-trimmed set of mutton chops and a gray flat cap, as if he were ready for a night out at his favorite downtown pub. "Are you here to fish?"

"We have some business to transact on Woban Island," Berringer says. "Is there something we can do for you?"

"Honey, they must be here for the Stone of Vul-Kar too!" the woman says to her companion. "Why don't you ask if we can help."

"But Charlei, look at the boat they're on!" he says to her. "I thought it was a cruise ship at first. We're in the presence of the One Percent! How could we possibly be of use to them?"

There is a certain passive-aggressiveness in the way they are speaking to each other that makes you uneasy — their private remarks about you are something they clearly want you to hear. The Zodiac they are riding has now bumped up against the stern of the Big Papi. Captain Mark and one of his crewmen have come down from the bridge to see what is going on, perhaps worried that these newcomers might be scuffing up the hull.

Berringer is starting to look annoyed. "Again, is there something we can do to assist?"

"Not really," the man says. "We just saw this magnificent craft sailing toward Woban Island, and we just had to come in for a closer look. Do you mind if I ask how long she is? What kind of engines you got? You must have quite the crew to run her!"

You and Berringer both look at each other. Didn't he mention rumors earlier about a young couple who had been observed on Woban Island trying to steal a boat?

__________________________________________________

[User] Next page.

[Assistant]
"Mark, why don't you fire up the engines again and get us out of here," Berringer says.

"Aye, sir," Captain Mark says, and then steps aside to give orders to his crew over a wireless headset.

"I don't think they want to talk with us, Gordy," the woman says. "Maybe we don't move in the same social circles. Maybe we aren't good enough."

"That's funny," her companion replies. "I would have expected life on the open ocean to be more egalitarian, but even here we are followed by fat kings and lean beggars."

The woman chuckles, but then stands up in the boat, seemingly unconcerned about the rocking of the waves. "'Your fat king and your lean beggar is but variable service, two dishes, but to one table: that's the end.'"

"'Alas, alas!'" the mutton-chopped man says. "'A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a king, and eat of the fish that hath fed of that worm.'"

She feigns alarm. "'What dost thou mean by this?'"

"'Nothing but to show you how a king may go a-progress through the guts of a beggar!'"

The purpose of this little drama escapes you, but the performance in the Zodiac is clearly outside the bounds of normal behavior. Are these people unhinged? Have they been marooned out here for so long with nothing but that little motorized raft that they've lost their mind?

Berringer looks disgusted. "They've been wasting my time. Make sure they don't try and get on the boat." And then he turns to go up the stairs to the main salon.

But the couple seems to have no intentions of storming the Big Papi. They have already pushed off from the yacht, and the woman is trying to start the outboard. "Honey, can you give me a hand with this?"

The guy gets up as his girlfriend slinks back out of the way. "'The bark is ready, and the wind at help, the associates tend, and every thing is bent... for England!'" With one good yank on the pull cord, the Yamaha engine fires up.

"'For England!'" the woman says. "'Good!'"

"'So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes," the man says, and the boat speeds away without either of them turning to look back.

"Are we done with those twits?" Berringer says, looking down at you from the upper deck.

"It looks that way, Walter," Meredith says, forgetting for the moment all of her sullen moping. "I can't believe they came all the way out here to put on a performance of Hamlet for us."

"Is that what that was?"

"I'm pretty sure, yes. Maybe if we're lucky, they'll treat us to a few scenes from King Lear tomorrow night."

"Well, I see it cured you of your pouting, so I guess it wasn't all bad."

Meredith rolls her eyes and sighs, but takes the cocktail glass she's been holding all this time and heads upstairs to join him.

You are left down below with the binoculars, with a sense of dread that you can't entirely explain. Nothing of what just happened seemed right. Who were those two people, and what were they up to? You raise the binoculars to your eyes and watch them speed away, back in the same direction from which they came. But then the Zodiac stops and turns, maybe a mile away. The couple is sitting and leaning against each other shoulder-to-shoulder, looking back in your direction as if they were about to share a romantic moment watching the sun set.

The yacht's engines are starting to rev up, and the boat is slowly moving forward again. But before you have a chance to pick up speed, there is a flash of light emanating from the point where the Zodiac had briefly brushed against the hull. You are blown backward and slammed against the nearest bulkhead by the force of the explosion, which rips the back end of the Big Papi apart. It spreads debris over the ocean and causes the rest of the ship to start taking on water; what wasn't destroyed in the blast will be sitting on the ocean floor within minutes.

It's a performance that delights the two people who are watching from afar in the Zodiac.

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 follow your instinct

[Assistant]
Maybe things have somewhat since you were here last time, but the fact remains, you were actually in Rask once, nobody else here has and who knows if those maps are accurate. You're going to trust your gut and head towards where you remember Fort Defiance was located. Nobody in Jennifer's expedition crew is exactly pleased with that decision, but Jennifer calms them down and says she trusts you.

You continue your journey and it's a miserable experience as a freezing ice storm hits hard within a couple of hours.

What remaining horses and other pack animals you had left end up either panicking or outright collapse from the exhaustion. Your group ends up having to dig out a shelter and hunker down for the storm to pass. Food isn't much of a problem since you just butcher the animals that are dying any way. Fire isn't either since you can conjure it up. Still, it's not an ideal situation and others in the group are starting to experience minor frostbite and argue with one another.

A couple more days of this and you're still not at your goal and the cold is even worse. Either you've gotten lost or Fort Defiance has long since fallen to the wilderness. More arguing occurs and blame is placed on you.

"I told you we should've followed the maps!" one of Jennifer's crew remarks. "Why the hell are we listening this guy for? He's also the one that insisted on leaving two of our people with blood thirsty orcs!"
"I'm also the guy that's keeping you alive, but that situation can be changed…" you answer.

Surprisingly the man doesn't back down.

"Oh sure, threaten me with violence, that's your solution to everything isn't it?"
"It's worker pretty well so far and suggest you back off if you don't want a demonstration to see just how well."
"Go ahead Mr. badass eternal! We're already fucking dead anyway now that you've gotten us lost! Of course you probably don't give a shit because you'll just survive by eating our bodies after we all…"

You can't hold back any longer, you punch the man in the face breaking his nose. He falls to the ground in a daze. You step forward to give him more of a thrashing, but Jennifer gets in your way.

"Alright that's enough! I think you've proven your point to Kevin. We're already fighting the elements and the hostile creatures that live here, we don't need to fight each other as well."
"(Sigh) Fine, but this asshole better not step out of line again, otherwise I might not be as reasonable!" you remark and then gesture to your soldiers to help Kevin up.

As they do so, it would seem that Kevin isn't quite through with you yet. He grabs a pistol from one of your soldiers and fires it right at you. He's not accurate enough to get a kill shot, but he's close enough that he doesn't miss. You feel a hot burning sensation go right through your stomach and pass through your back.

"Shit! Fuck…" you utter and fall to the ground. While you're bleeding internally and externally, your soldiers make quick work of Kevin causing remainder of Jennifer's people to either look on in horror or scream and yell.

Jennifer rushes to your aid, but she isn't quite sure what to do.

"Damn it, should've…get off me!" you exclaim. Your body is partially in shock, but you manage to catch a breath long enough to gather your thoughts. You need to heal yourself quickly.

With you attempting to concentrate, Jennifer's crew screaming, your soldiers threatening to subdue them and Jennifer trying to reason with everyone, nobody is paying attention to their surroundings. at least not until an ogre comes loping out from the trees and rips off one of your soldier's heads.

More ogres come out of the trees as well and they aren't normal kind…

"Fucking wendigos!" you shout.

The wendigos must have been watching you and finally figured out you aren't Eyes at all and given that you're somewhat incapacitated now, they also figured now would be good time to strike and they were correct.

You can't even get up, because the bullet ripped through your spine paralyzing you from the waist up, the bet you can do is wave your sword around in an attempt to slash at the wendigos nearby.

It doesn't take long for them to easily kill Jennifer and her crew, followed by your soldiers and by the time they get to you, you're still weak from blood loss and having limited mobility.

You manage to kill one of them before one puts its fist through your chest and rips off the top half of your torso for a feast.


[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 start A Fire To Distract The Lizard Folk

[Assistant]
You don't have any tinder left after that incident with the cactii, but you do have some flint.  You look around the large antichamber-like room for anything wooden and you find a few things that look like they might be combustable.  You set about lighting them with the flint, then quickly cast them in the direction of a large wooden table in the center of the room and run to the corner just before the room with the lizardfolk.  As you had hoped, two of the lizard folk eventually come out and because you are hiding in their blindspot, they don't see you.  The creatures rush over to quell the fire as best they can but there is a problem.

Only two of the lizardfolk emerged to deal with this threat.  The third one still stands guard at the door.  Lizardfolk are known for their fierce dedication to their duty and unfortunately it seems they are also smarter than the majority of your adversaries as well.  After quelling the fire the two begin searching the room, leaving no stone unturned so-to-speak.  They must suspect that it was caused by someone.  You move around from one dark hiding spot to another, hoping to evade their search until they retire back to the door but you step down on the charred remains of the table and an audible crunch is heard.

To your credit, you kept them searching for a long time due to your skill at evasion but given that you just removed any and all doubt about your presence, it was only a matter of time before they found you.

THE END


[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 fear.

[Assistant]
The gaze of that winged demon, that messenger of death, is too much for you to bear. A sliver of ice lodges itself into your spine and your knees turn weak. With your heart pounding in your chest, an irrational fear makes itself the master of your mind. Almost without thought, you open the door to your library, and run away, leaving that demonic bird sitting above you, perched high above your chamber door.

Back in the hallway, you notice that the dance of dust and shadow continues once more. An icy cold has appeared, chilling you to the bone. As you carefully step into the darkness, strength returning to your knees, yet your heart still pounding in your chest, you notice small puffs of mist erupting from the carpet. You're scared, you don't want to admit it, but you're scared. That winged demon that haunts you is still somewhere behind you, you can feel it.

Yet while you worry about the shadows behind you, a soul-shattering wail erupts from below you. A female voice, filled with grief and despair. In front of you, the staircase beckons that leads to the hallway downstairs, the dark hallways downstairs, the hallway where that wail just originated. However, while weighing your choices, you'd rather explore what's going on downstairs, than return to that beast in the library.

[User] You continue...

[Assistant]
Crouching down until you're knees are almost touching the floor, you creep towards the top of the stairs. Peeking down, the cavernous hallway seems dark and desolate save for a narrow streak of moonlight shining through the windows above the front door. Two doors, besides the front door, give access to two more chambers on the ground floor: the living room and the smoke room. And it is of this room, the smoke room, that the door remains open just a little bit, and just at the moment that you are peeking down into the hallway, a small piece of white fabric disappears through it.

Though your heart is pounding in your chest and you knees are shaking visibly, you decide to brave your fears and descend the staircase. As soon as you put weight on the top step the staircase creaks and cracks, loud enough to shake your resolve and wake all the demons in hell itself. However, you decide to brave onwards. Step by step, creak by creak, you more or less succeed in descending the staircase safely.

As your feet finally touch the stone tiles on the hallway's floor you let out a quick sigh of relief. As you survey your surroundings you wonder why you ever continued to live in a mansion that just screams 'HAUNTED'. An old chandelier, made suitable for electric lighting long ago, softly sways from the ceiling, its lights darkened. The faces of your ancestors stare blankly at you from their respective stately portraits which overlook the staircase you just descended. The grey moonlight which shines through the few windows around the grand, wooden, doors gives them an even more dead like pallor.

The uneasy silence which envelops your home has not yet lifted, and yet you could swear that you hear floorboards cracking in the smoke room. This is, of course, a preposterous thought. You are all alone in this house, and have been for many months now. Who else could be wandering these halls? To still the beating of your heart, you think to yourself: 'Tis probably some rodent wandering in these darkened halls, sheltering from an animal or looking for food. P...'

But before you finish your thoughts a cold winds blows through the crack in the doorway. Suddenly shivers run down your spine and you can feel your knees start to tremble once more. While fear starts to fill your mind once more, you decide to...

[User] You investigate the smoke room.

[Assistant]
As you fully open the door to the smoke room, a cold wind greets you. In the corner of your eyes, you can see the frayed, grey curtains in front of the windows slightly sway in the wind. The ancient window frames are cracked, and no match for the bleak winter's air.

Slightly shivering, you look around you. The smoke room is just like you left it, though a substantial layer of dust has since accumulated. Two cracked, dried-out leather chairs stand in front of the cold fireplace. A small table is set between them, cigars that were probably quite excellent at some point are lying in a box on it. Faded portraits of idyllic hunting and pastoral scenes line the walls, and a small book case is standing in one corner of the room, holding some dusty book for light reading. To be honest, the room isn't that very large for a mansion such as yours.

After looking around for some time and reassuring yourself that nothing out of the ordinary is residing in the room, you turn to leave. However, your eyes then fall on a small picture on the mantle of the fireplace, quite small, and so caked in dust that you can hardly see the subject at this distance. Your attention piqued, you pick up the picture, and carefully remove the layer of dust.

It turns out to be a photograph of a young woman. The woman you recognise from your dream earlier, the woman you recognise as Lenore. Lenore, the love of your live, the angel of your existence, the centre of your universe. You almost forgot you had this picture of her. Compared to the large, stately portrait, hanging in your library upstairs, this is a very intimate picture. Lenore, smiling at the camera, still much younger than when you last saw her. You can actually remember taking this picture, during a long, warm summer so many years ago.

A tear disturbs some of the dust on the picture frame. Sighing a deep, heavy, emotion-laden sigh, you put it back. Though you turn around, you could swear that you can still see Lenore in front of you. Though no longer so very young, you look at the picture of Lenore as you last saw her. Clad in a pure, white dress, she stands in front of you. Her eyes, looking far beyond you, gaze pitifully forward, her countenance undecipherable, looking sad and angry, pitying and harsh, pallid and vivid.

You almost speak to her. As she appears before you, you cannot but imagine she is really here. Confused and hopeful, sad and joyous, despairing and pleading, you try to speak. But a blink of an eye later, the image is gone. ''Tis only the desire of my heart, my most sacred wish, but nothing  more.'

Saddened by your mind's deception, you exit the smoke room.

[User] You continue...

[Assistant]
Back in the hallway, you look around you. The pale light of the Winter's moon is partially obstructed by clouds, and in its shifting light, your empty house seems grim and ghastly. The portraits on the walls, those of your forefathers, appear to look at you with dead eyes, following your every move. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the creaking and groaning of your ancient house.

You still can't shake that shiver from your spine, as if a sliver of ice has lodged itself inside it. Trying to expel the ghostly image of Lenore from your mind, you notice the hairs on your arms start to stand upright. This is wrong, this is so very, very wrong. You fear that you might be slowly going insane. The events of the evening so far have left you certainly not unshaken.

Somewhere behind the staircase, a mouse patters off, the thread of its small paws echoing in the empty space. You jump, quite highly. Starting to feel slightly light-headed, you take a few, deep breaths. You swear you can practically hear your nerves shattering if you listen closely enough. Why is this happening to you?

TAP TAP TAP

You must have been mistaken. You wish, you wish fiercely that you were mistaken. That infernal tapping, that dreadful noise that has tormented you this evening has returned. As its echo resonates throughout your mind, your gaze turns towards the closed library door at the top of your staircase. Though seemingly left untouched, you know that behind it is the beast, the demon that has been mocking you this entire evening.

Or (you almost don't dare to wish it) might it be Lenore, trying to grab your attention? Surely she couldn't, surely you didn't just see her, or what remains of her. Surely, it is the delusion of your mind that is leading you to wish, to vehemently wish, such impossible thoughts. Then again, are you willing to risk finding out?

While you are contemplating moving back to your library, you hear the sound of creaking floorboards in the living room. 'Tis probably the settling of your ancient house, or the soft patter of the mouse you heard earlier. But then again, you heard a similar sound in the smoke room just moments earlier.

Then again, why should you stay here, in this house of sadness and pain? You remember that you are standing inside the hallway, and that the front door is just behind you. Why should you stay here, tormented by the demons in your mind, if you can escape them quite easily? Surely, if you come back tomorrow, peace and quiet will have returned?

As you stand in the dimly illuminated hallway, you feel your fingers twitch slightly. You can't take much more of the night's horrors, you are afraid. It is just too much. With a pounding heart, and shaking legs, you make your decision about where to go next.

[User] You run Away

[Assistant]
With a loud 'Thump', you pull the front door shut behind you. Your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline ringing in your ears, you try to get away as quickly as possible. Without looking back, you make your way through the snowy wasteland that was once your driveway. In your head, the name of Lenore keeps echoing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. You don't know where your headed, you don't know how long you will stay on the run, but you do know that you're never setting a foot in your house again.

----

The white walls of your room are spinning around you. A soft, high-pitched laughter escapes from your mouth. You feel woozy, unable to focus clearly on your surroundings. Through the fogginess of your brain, you faintly register your arms being held in an uncomfortable position, but you cannot move them. The ground feels weird, soft, almost squishy. A strange, metallic taste is in your mouth.

In the distance, you can hear someone muttering a word: 'Lenore'. Never stopping, always repeating that single word: 'Lenore, Lenore, Lenore, Lenore, Lenore', as if it were a mantra to an unseen goddess. With a shock, you recognise the voice as your own.

Somewhere besides you, you hear a door open. Your vision stabilises briefly enough to see a man, dressed as a doctor, enter. You feel your mouth opening, not by your own accord, and notice some small objects being forced down your throat. The metallic taste appears stronger. Though your vision stabilises. Stabilises, and softly fades to black. Before you know it, you fall asleep on the soft, squishy floor. In your dreams, you are once more visited by Lenore.


[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] The family (Henry and Tulla)

[Assistant]
While eating at the dinner table, you find that unlike Lena, Henry is actually very hospitable. You discover that your guess that he was a woodcutter by trade was correct. He's also lived here all his life and still remembers when the old Empire claimed Delerg.

"I do not ever recall seeing you in the resistance during the Empire days." You remark.
"I wasn't. At the time I was more concerned with taking care of my first wife who was sick, than changing the government…besides as much as it may make me look like a coward, the Empire did not interfere much with our lives, so I saw no reason to fight. Especially since you shadows looked to have the matter well in hand."
"Hmm, glad we kept up a good appearance considering we ultimately lost."
"But the Empire did fall."
"It may have fell, but it got replaced with something far worse. Sometimes I think things would've been better if we hadn't done shit. Your reasons for not fighting are certainly valid ones, but tell me, what did you do when the eternals first arrived? I have to admit I am not entirely familiar with the last years of the Empire and its immediate aftermath. I was trapped underground for a while you see. But I do know that there were a group of thuggish eternals that eventually laid claim here. I know because Lena and I eventually got rid of them. Why did you not fight then?"

Lena starts to get agitated with you questioning her husband, but he calms her and says it's quite all right.

"When Brutus' group came around and set up shop independently of the Empire I just laid low as I would never have been a match for any of them, even if they didn't severely outnumber me. Fortunately laying low was easy as you can see this village is one of the furthest ones from Sinkhole. It's practically on the ass end of civilization. Besides, my first wife had died of her illness around that time and I went through an extended period of mourning. I…uh sort of shut myself off from the world I guess. I was in no condition to fight anyone. If anything I might've welcomed death at that point in my life. All I did most of the time during those days was visit Alanna's grave a lot and speak to it."

You can't help but see a very strong similarity here. When you look at Lena, she looks away as if you're going to call her out on her choice of husbands again. Of course you aren't though, but it does prove you were right about some of your previous remarks about her.

Meanwhile Henry finishes his tale.

"But eventually I realized that I had to move on with life and eventually I accepted reality."
"Good for you Henry. It takes a brave man to face reality." You say and drink from your cup giving Lena the option of calling you out on your own flights of fantasy concerning Talia. Of course she doesn't.

You chat a bit more with Henry. He says while he isn't much of a fighter due to inexperience, he says that Lena has shown him a few things as she has been trying to teach others as well.

"I have to say, I've never quite understood the Delergites' unwillingness to fight. Well the majority of them anyway." You mention.
"Surely as a shadow, you know the reason."
"I do? I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me Henry. While I may be a shadow in name, let's just say I may not be the best representative."
"Well you are aware of what most of us in Delerg are taught about the shadows right? I mean about how conquerors may come and go, but the shadows will always remain as they have for centuries. And that the shadows will always defend and protect this place. With the shadows around, most people just believe that eventually they'll take care of the major problems."
"Yes, I am aware of it, I just never thought any of you lot bought into it so seriously. The dependency issues aside, why continue to believe it at all? The shadows belong to the rubble heap of history now. Surely YOU don't still believe such things."

Henry thinks a bit, but not too long.

"Well, yes."
"You do? Why?"
"You're still here to help aren't you?"

You give a smile and even chuckle a bit.

"Heh, well maybe you're right, Henry."
"However as I mentioned before outside I am willing to fight and not rely others. After met Lena, I found that there are some things worth fighting for. Now with my new daughter Tulla in this world I find that to be truer than ever." Henry says while looking at the baby basket nearby.

Lena reaches over to squeeze Henry's hand briefly. You say nothing to this moment of closeness; you just get temporary lost in thoughts of long ago. You think about how this arrangement is probably similar to something Talia wanted. Well perhaps not exactly, but definitely the family part.

The thing is, you never really seriously considered such things even when Talia spoke of it. Part of it was your foremost concern of surviving the next thing the Empire decided to throw at you. The other part is it just wasn't something you were excessively interested in. Now though, looking at something like this a little more close up, you can't help but think "what if?"

Of course that's not a "what if" that can ever be achieved. Even if Talia was still alive, you couldn't have children anyway. Quite frankly you've spent so much time killing, wouldn't really know what to do with the prospect of taking care of anything so helpless like a child, though you'd guess that perhaps Talia would've been more of the nurturing one while you trained it to fight or something you actually knew about.

The funny thing is you get the impression that Henry serves more of that purpose of a "nurturer" than Lena does, who while obviously loving towards the child, she maintains more of a distance from it than Henry does. Almost as if she's reluctant to bond with it on a major level.


[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 finish reading the files

[Assistant]
You hold the file out, offering it back to Elios.

"Burn it, honey," Elios says.

You shrug, as the file sets alight in your fingertips, turning to ash. Fay notices you're finished, and hands her file to you.

"Are you offering this to me to read?" you ask, confused.

"No, Karth, but there's no candles around. It's times like this where it's good to have a friend who can act as a lighter."

You quickly set the file alight, and it turns to ash once again.

"Thank you," Fay says. "How's your mission looking?"

"Easy enough. If I can get this collar off, I'll be fine. If not, I'm fucked," you say.

"I'm sure Elizabeth can get the collar off. She seems smart," Fay says.

"I am," Elizabeth says, not looking up from her files.

"Are we finished here?" you ask.

"Sure thing, darling," Elios says, standing. "Shall I escort you back to your room?"

"Sure thing," you say, as Fay nods eagerly.

You stand, following Elios along the hallways. After a few minutes, you reach the tribals' dormitories, where two Chaos Marines stand at either side of the door.

"Hey, you're not supposed to be out of your cell!" one says, raising his bolter.

Elios snaps his fingers, and the two guards pause.

"You saw nothing," Elios says.

"Yes... yes, sir," the space marine replies, as Elios opens the door.

"Goodnight, Fay," Elizabeth says.

"Goodnight, Karth," she says, before disappearing into the dorms.

You quickly head towards your room, reaching there after a few minutes. Elios pulls the same trick with your guards, as they fall under Elios' commands. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter.

"Goodnight, Karth. I have a lot to organize, so I won't be able to offer you the chance for me to stay the night. Sleep tight, darling," he says, as the door closes."

You shake your head, walking over to the bed, collapsing onto it. Soon, you drift off to sleep.

[User] Two Days Later...

[Assistant]
You walk down the hallways alongside your four Chaos Marine guards. You head towards the war room, where Kyros is planning the first strike against the Imperium, taking over a Hive World, to secure a huge population that can be recruited from to bolster Kyros' forces ten times. You hum a tune, some old Uwais war chant that you find quite catchy. You feel a wave of nausea hit you, and you pause, as you feel a heavy weight lifted off your soul, and your cloudy mind is cleared. Your collar clicks, and falls off you, hitting the ground. Your guards stop, noticing you've stopped.

"Prisoner, why have you s...?" one of the guards asks, before noticing your collar has fallen off.

"Wait..." he starts to say, as the alarm begins to blare.

"Hahaha! Freedom! Freedom!" Meliodas cries.

Then, you strike. The first guard's head snaps around, tearing his head clean off his shoulders. You quickly set the second alight, shielding yourself from the bright blue flames that begin melting through the thick armor as the guard roars. You teleport behind the last two as bolter fire slams into the hallway where you once were. You blow a hole in the chest of one with a blast of psychic energy, before levitating the last one into the air, tossing his bolter across the room.

"No, no, no!" the space marine roars, shaking and trying to grasp at you.

"Kill! Maim! Burn! Break! Smash! Crush! Slaughter!" Meliodas gleefully chants.

You smash the space marine into the ground repeatedly, shattering armor and leaving him as a bloody smear on the ground. You attempt to orientate yourself, trying to picture the path you took from your room to get here, and remembering where the Penthouse is.

"Brother! Is Prisoner Alpha secure?" a radio crackles.

You turn, noticing the radio attached to the first space marine's belt. You pick it up, as the psychic energy around you vibrates as you talk, changing your voice into that of the space marine.

"Imitate his comrade's voice. Use the Warp," Meliodas suggests.

"We were forced to kill him. What's the situation?"

"Good riddance. Our brothers have betrayed us. The One Eyed Crows, the Black Rats, the Shrieking Harpies, all traitors! The 22nd are fighting, but I don't know whether the majority is with Kyros."

"What's the plans?"

"Kyros has us divided between exterminating the traitors and trying to put down the slave revolts that are taking place. The first and second generation super-soldiers are rebelling. Take your unit, and secure the gladiators. If they have the arena secured, they will have a strong defensive position."

"Understood. We'll get it done," you say.

"Send them to their reapers, brother, and ward off your own one," the radio crackles.

"Glory to Kyros," you say. "Praise the Dark Gods!"

"Nice touch," Meliodas says.

The radio finishes, and you clip it to your belt. You float into the air, hovering along the hallways towards the Penthouse. You pass a trio of shotgun-wielding Bloody Claws, rushing towards the cyro-chambers. You fire a jet of flames, engulfing the trio but don't even slow down to watch them die. Soon, you find yourself in the elevator, rising towards the penthouse. You wait patiently, listening to reports come through the radio.

"The entire area's filled with them! They're all traitors. I..."

"Bridge secured, push forward."

"Fall back, fall back, they're not going down!"

"Rage! Kill! Maim! Smash! Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

"Leading the charge! Secure Elizabeth Staine, and they'll all... shit! AARGH!"

"Damn it! I've been sealed in! Get me out, dammit! They're coming for us!"

The elevator doors open, leaving you faced with five heavy bolters aiming at you.

"It's the Psyker!" someone shouts.

"Time to die, mortals!" Meliodas roars.

[User] You quickly fire some firebolts

[Assistant] You spew fireballs from each hand, immediately engulfing two of the bolters, and their operators, in flames as they let out terrified screams. Unfortunately, the other three fire. Bullets slam into your boy, one quickly finding your head and blowing it apart.


[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 sparkly Vampire!

[Assistant]
Stephanie, I hate you.

Fine, you want to be a sparkly vampire, go ahead.

Once a pompous little lordling living in the south of Spainland you not only had the misfortune of being bitten by a vampire while having sex with your sister, but also getting gene spliced with a unicorn by the hands of a genre-bending – and seriously twisted – wizard from the future called a Brony. The magic involved with this transformation goes far beyond my comprehension of the arcane, but I assure you it was incredibly painful. On the positive end, however, you now fart bubblegum and shit figgy pudding.


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

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
You are Ben Higgins, a person of no consequence living in the town of Van Hove. The town was large but not big enough to be a city, not that it matted to you since your world is mainly your home and the small yard around it. For most of your life the idea of going out into the world made you uncomfortable, along with the idea of social interaction. Of course when the situation called for it, like getting food or mailing a letter at the post office, you could handle it no problem, but you found it joyless and were glad when it was over. In addition you rarely watched TV or even the news on the internet, unless it was happening on your property it didn't affect you or at least that's what you believe. As for money you work from home on your computer fixing problems on other people's computers via remote desktop connections. The company you work for pays enough so you have enough food and pay the bills. What is most important is that they leave you alone while you work.

Your little sister Victoria says you do want to go out and do more, but you're afraid. Victoria is your main source of social interaction and the only person who have any real connection to. Several years ago, your parents died in a car crash and Victoria has been living with you ever since. The two of you get along for the most part, you have the same squabble that all siblings have but you genuinely care for each other. It's summer now and in the fall Victoria is leaving for college, which is going to leave you more alone than ever. Oh sure, she is going to visit and stay here between semesters, but you know this is the beginning of her going off to forge her own path and living her own life, something you never got around to doing.

Alas you are happy for her and would never want to hold her back. Certainly you would not want her to live the same dull and somewhat depressing existence you have. You do wonder if she is right and you do want to go out in the world and make friends but the fear is simply more than you can handle, while giving up and crawling back into bed is just too easy. If Victoria is right then what exactly are you afraid of? Not being able to fit in, or perhaps it's the shear unpredictably of life. It doesn't make a difference as you have no plans on changing your lifestyle in the foreseeable future.

You wake up late one morning, planning on spending the day working, you head into the narrow hallway and into the kitchen. The kitchen is cramped and needs to be cleaned soon, as you brush crumbs off the kitchen table you notice something is off. It's relatively quiet, normally when you get up Victoria is making noise doing one thing or another. She can't still be asleep, she was always an early bird, maybe she is feeling ill, you decided to check on her as you head back into the hallway and knock on her bedroom door.

"Vic, you alright?" You call out while knocking.

No response, you open the door just a tad to peek in and see her bed is empty. After this discovery you head back into your room and grab your cell phone off your dresser. There are no text messages or voicemail, Victoria always leaves one when she heads out. You send her text asking where she is. Several minutes pass and there is no reply. Victoria is glued to that phone and she always responds quickly, even though it's usual a text to stop bugging her. You begin to worry, but perhaps you're being overprotective. Your sister is an adult and unlike you has a life, although this is a big departure from her usual behavior. Her best friend is Moira Estacado, she owns the bar and restaurant "Moira's" located in the center of town. Maybe she would know where your sister is, or you could search Victoria's room, there might be something there you could find.

[User] You go to Moira's

[Assistant]
Moira Estacado is Victoria's best friend and a mother figure to her since your mother died. She's a bit older then Victoria which made her instantly cool in your sister's eyes. The fact that she owned a bar and restaurant just increased the cool factor. Personally, you can't stand her, she's obnoxious, annoying and in general a pain. Vic tries to explain that Moira likes to tease and it's just harmless fun, but you aren't convinced. Still if there is someone who would know where sister is it's her. You leave your house and get into your car noticing that the rust on the hood is beginning to spread.

A bit of drive later you arrive at Moira's, it's still early, but you know she will be there. Moira is very dedicated to the bar and restaurant, always making sure it is running smoothly and her workers aren't slacking off. She spends as much time there as you spend secluded in your house. There is plenty of parking as it's too soon for the lunch crowd. After parking your car near the front you head in and see the waiter and hostess talking to each other, not expecting a customer so soon after opening. They seem a bit puzzled by your presence and attempt to interact with you, but you're focused on asking to Moira about Victoria and ignore them. You spot her at the bar cleaning a glass, her shoulder length red hair makes her stand out easily. She notices you approaching and a mischievous smile appears on her face.

"Well look who decided to crawl out from under a rock," Moira greeted. Her attitude was already getting under your skin, but you had to see if she knew about Victoria.

[User] You say "Hello Moira, nice to see you"

[Assistant]
"Hello Moira, nice to see you," You manage to say without showing how annoyed you are at her greeting.

"Wow, who are you and what have you done with Ben?" Moira responded, getting you more annoyed.  "I mean not only did you leave your house, but you're talking without sounding like a dick."

"Look, I can't find Victoria, can you tell me where is she, she's not answering her phone and I just want to make sure she's alright."

"Will you relax, she's probably still at Steve's house, they left here together last night."

"Who the hell is Steve?"

"You mean you don't know, wow just wow, Victoria always said you were a bit obvious to things, but I didn't know it was to the point where she can date a guy for a month and you remain completely clueless."

The mention of Victoria having a boyfriend caught you off guard. You're pretty sure Victoria never mentioned him, maybe she was worried you'd get upset or maybe simply she never told you because you never asked. Are you really that withdrawn? Now is not the best time to worry about this, it's better stay focused on finding her.

"Are you sure she's there?" You ask.

"I'm not positive but it makes sense, last night Victoria was here for a bit then Steve came and picked her up, I assume she spent the night there since she isn't at your house," Moira explains.

"Why would she spend the night there?"

"Jesus, are you really that socially inept, do I really have to explain why she would spend the night at her boyfriend's house?"

You ponder for a second and then as the realization hits you, a look of disgust appears on your face.

[User] You ask where Steve lives

[Assistant]
"Please, I need to know where Steve lives so I can check on Vic," You plead.

"Alright, since you're actually making an effort to be pleasant, he lives on 48 Kerr Road, but you didn't here that from me," Moira reveals.

"Thanks Moira," you say as you quickly head out.

You get into your car and drive off to Kerr Road. You know where it is since you use it to reach the grocery store in town. As you approach the house, you notice there is a car in the driveway blocking any other car from using it. In addition there is no parking on this street, forcing you to go to the supermarket, use their parking lot and then walking several blocks back to the house.  You get quite annoyed of how complicated this is becoming but you need to make sure everything is OK with Victoria.

When you're back on Kerr Road. You walk up Steve's house and ring the doorbell. A few minutes go by with no response, as you go to ring the bell again, you notice that near the door knob are scratch marks. Looking close you see that the wooden frame surrounding the door is damaged near the knob and the lock is broken, somebody had broken in. Worried about your sister you rush into the house.

"Victoria!" You shout but there is no response.

As you run down the foyer you notice out of the corner of your eye someone sitting in a lounge chair in a room to the right. You walk in to talk to this man when you notice that his throat is slit and a "W" is carved into their chest. You need to get out of here now!

[User] You run out front door

[Assistant]
In a panic you run back into the foyer and head out the front. At the same time the police have arrived and quickly get out of their cars to draw their guns on you.

"Get the fuck on the ground!" One screams at you.

They completely ignore you as you try to explain what happened and that you didn't kill the man in there. They handcuff you quickly and place you in the back of one of the cruisers. You later learn that the dead man is Steve, Victoria's boyfriend and spend the next several days in a jail cell. Finally you're let go since there is no evidence that you killed him, but soon that doesn't matter, as upon being released you learn the police have found Victoria's body.


[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 keep calm

[Assistant]
You're not going to play her game. Getting into a fight is just going to make things worse. She's all talk anyway, she's just going to bark and not actually do anything.

You just stay silent and try to walk away. Diana however keeps barking.

"Hey, where you going, this isn't over you fucking bitch!" Diana says, but you ignore her and keep walking away.

When you don't respond, Diana moves from barking to biting which involves grabbing you on the shoulder and spinning you around.

"Hey, get your hands off of me!" you say and attempt to push her away. Diana's spoiling for a fight however and grabs your arm with her free hand.

And unfortunately she's also spoiling for your death.

"You're fucking too weak for Bobby, better that I take care of this now. He'll thank me in the long run!" She exclaims and stabs you chest with her knife. You scream in pain and fall back in shock. Diana wastes no time in taking advantage and leaps on you while stabbing the entire time.

While the noise brings the attention of other family members who attempt to pull Diana off of you, but it's already too late, she's hit several vital organs and opened up several of your veins.

"All hail fucking Tiamat and her glorious chaos!" Diana yells in triumph and laughing as your blood is splattered all over her.


[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 attempt to scale the wall

[Assistant]
Your plan is to climb to Henry, break the glass and beat the fuck out of him. The walls are smooth, but your claws and climbing skills can certainly overcome them, they can't overcome the three butcher shops on legs though.

As you attempt to climb, one of the subjects jumps up to grab your leg and slams you back down to the floor hard. The others then kick you about the head and frog stomp you in general. The last thing you see is a big black boot coming at your face, followed by Henry's laughter.


[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 simply move them aside, might be best not to approach with an army at your back

[Assistant]
You don't want to appear too aggressive right away so you simply clear yourself a path through the infected, moving them aside as you walk and closing them back up behind you. "If this ring is part of their defense it's probably best I leave it intact, and having a large number of infected might be useful in an emergency." You think as you walk further and further in.

After a few hours you have given up counting all the infected in the area, this part of the city is made up of blocks of giant multi-story sky-scrapers which all must have had thousands of people inside each before the infection hit if not more. Now even if only 1 in 100 is left alive then that's still hundreds of infected for every building you walk past, and the mutants are everywhere too. You have no idea if they were strays, pets or migrated here after the infection had taken over but there was no shortage of food for them here at least. You move them aside like the others, a few feel slightly different when you try to take them over but they move aside like the rest and you ignore them once you know you are safely past.

It's nearly dinner time when you finally sense the gathering horde ahead of you. You carefully prepare your defenses and reach your mind out towards the city centre. You are just starting to sense something there when your senses show a strong green glow and you feel pressure on your mind. It's like an attack but weaker than the ones the Old Man put you through when you were training and you are a lot stronger now than when you were training so you don't even need to try to keep the pressure from your mind.

[User] You they are weak, the Old man said he was stronger than them individually when he faced them before. Take this one out here and now. The second one won't be an issue alone.

[Assistant]
You Aren't going to let some weakling push you around, they might have a lot of infected around them but it means nothing if their will is less than yours.

You leave the bare minimum defense against the attack then lash out as hard as you can against the Green haze in the city centre that you know represents you enemy. You know if you can crush them in a single fast attack that the second one won't stand a chance.

You visualize your attack and send it racing out, almost gleefully imagining the moment it shatters right through the enemies weak and neglected defenses and you crush their mind.

But it doesn't. Your attack smashes into a fully formed barrier, easily as strong as anything you could make. You feel it flex and buckle slightly but it is immediately shored up while the attack on you suddenly intensifies.

You realize your mistake too late, it was a trap to test whether you would attack and you failed. You frantically try to press your attack while holding your defense up but the enemies defense easily holds you to a stalemate while their attacks strains you defenses to their maximum. You try and think of a way out when the second attack slams into your mind and shatters your already weak defenses. You feel intense pain shooting through your mind.

You can barely handle the pain and are almost glad when everything ends.


[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 attack the guards on the ground, surprise them

[Assistant]
You wait until the last second and leap out into the darkness, You can see the humans but know they wont see you clearly until it is too late. You crash into the first one as you land, knocking him to the ground as you punch another hard in the jaw, he doesn't die but you know he will be unconscious for a long time as you spin to the last guard. They fire at you but you are too quick and knock the rifle barrel to the side at the last second before grabbing their head and twisting until you feel their neck snap cleanly and they go limp.

You guard you knocked over cries out and tries to crawl away instead of shooting at you so you simply walk over and stamp on him until his mind vanishes too and you are left with one unconscious guard "Well if he isn't dead, his meat will keep better. I will save him for later."

You can sense the people and the panic now, over half of the shamblers have been killed but so have several humans and a couple even turned and attacked their friends and family before being killed. Then you realize that they are all headed your way "The bunker, they are trying to retreat there now, but I am between them and it, perfect!" You quickly scan for which minds will reach you first when you realize you were ignoring the guard on the walkway. You spin around just as they fire at you and the shot takes you right in the gut.

You stagger back "That wont kill me, but I will tear them apart for shooting me!" You think as you let out a roar of anger and let the hunger drive you after the shooter. You leap cleanly up onto the walkway, ignoring the pain and the blood flowing from your wound, to land right in front of them. You immediately start to swing at them but they didn't hesitate either and their next shot hits you cleanly in the chest moments before your punch connects.

You stagger forwards in an attempt to stay close to they as you realize your punch was weak and they are still conscious and only a little dazed. You take one more step and grab them as your lungs fill with blood and your heart begins beating erratically. You know you don't have the strength left to kill them yourself but you throw yourself forward onto them and are rewarded when you feet their body being pierced by the wall spikes behind them.

You let go and slide down to the walkway in a pool of blood, mixed from your own and the still human guards. "Funny, I can't tell it apart" You think as you fall into blackness


[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 help Breen move Spitzer's corpse

[Assistant] You help Breen carry Spritzer outside but when you come back inside you find you cannot stop shake in. Lying down you force yourself to go into an uneasy sleep but it is one that you do not awake from.


[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 take her home

[Assistant]
All these new feelings are still a bit overwhelming to you, so you decide not to take it to that level just yet. Besides you don't really want to be hanging out in the park too long at night.

You take Jessica home who agrees to go out with you again and gives you a big kiss before she goes in which puts a perfect end to this day.

You sneak back to your house, carefully not waking Mom up. You know you'll have to deal with her in the morning, but that doesn't seem to bother you. You've accomplished a lot today and that fills you with a sense of achievement that you've never felt before.

Another day arrives and you feel triumphant…


[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]
You make yourself as comfortable as you can in the Teamsters Tent but it is very crowded there: not only are there too manypeople in too small a space but one of the Reed's Teamsters Milt Elliott is visiting you as well. A snowstorm blows over the Mountains and it brings death with it. Jacob Donner is the first to succumb. He dies while sitting at a table, his head bowed in his hands, the very picture of despair. Donner's death is just the beginning.

Samuel Shoemaker, a teamster for the Donner's dies next and he is soon followed by Joseph Reinhardt. Knowing he is dying Reinhardt confesses in front of you, Doris Wolfinger and George Donner that he shot and killed Mr Wolfinger but that he regrets it. He never explains why and the confession is of little comfort to the poor widow. James Smith, a teamster who actually works for the Reeds but has somehow wound up at the Donner Camp dies of the cold too. That night with the winter breeze piercing your body to the core you are struck by the urge to walk out into the cold and end it all rather than suffer this slow and lingering demise.

What do you do?

[User] You summon all the strength you have to remain in the teamsterâ€™s tent

[Assistant]
You survive the initial series of deaths which leave George Donner and the teamsters Noah James and Jean Baptiste as the only healthy men in a camp full of women and children. For the next two months you survive. Several people die at the Truckee Lake Camp but for some reason no one else at the Alder Creek camp dies, perhaps because the Donner's have slightly more food than everyone else. Finally in the second half of February three healthy-looking men arrive at the camp. They are rescuers from California, having made contact with members of the Snowshoe Party they have travelled out to bring people back.

It quickly becomes apparent that there are too few of them to take everyone to California with them, George Donner's hand has become infected and many of the others are too weak to go. It is agreed that the men will take Elitha, Lenna and George Donner and William Hook (the weakest children) with them as well as Doris Wolfinger and wagon-driver Noah James, who is in very bad shape. Wagon-driver Jean Baptiste wants to leave too but the settlers persuade him to stay and help look after the Donner's. At both Alder Creek and Truckee Lake the remaining men (George Donner, Patrick Breen, Louis Keseberg and Donner wagon-driver Jean Trudeau) have chosen to stay so that the women and children can leave in safety. More help is on it's way to rescue them but if you truly insist you will be allowed to accompany the First Relief down.

What do you do?

[User] You demand that the rescuers take you too

[Assistant]
After much begging the members of the First Relief let you join them in travelling on to California and safety but the going is hard. Most of the children are so weak the rescuers have to take turns carrying them while you and the other adults stagger on as best you can. One morning John Denton, an English wagon-driver who has been of great assistance around the camps, is unable to continue and insists that he is left behind at the fire. Finding him unable to walk the other settlers agree and he is left behind.

What do you do?

[User] You stay behind and try to persuade him to keep moving

[Assistant] You sit down next to John and try to get him to keep going but he just shakes his head and sings out a poem: "I look on scenes of past delight, without my wonted pleasures, as a mister on the bed of death looks coldly on his treasures." Your bodies are found a few weeks later.


[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 grab for the gun

[Assistant]
You scuttle forward for the gun, grabbing it. You aim it at the vampire, grabbing the trigger and pulling it tightly.

The gun explodes, sending you falling back with the recoil and smacking into the wall with a painful thud. The vampire roars as buckshot slams into his back. He grabs your father by the head, twisting with inhuman speed as your hear a painful snap. Then, he turns, staring at you. He snarls, walking forward quickly. You reach for the gun again, but he steps on your hand as you yelp in pain.

"You dare shoot me? I have lived millennia, you think you'll be the one to end my life?" the hunter snarls, before laughing, a horrible, terrifying noise. "You have balls, little one."

You stare at the monster in front of you, trying to stare him, but you see nothing but hate and unquenching thirst behind his eyes.

"Yes... I see strength in you. Potential. I have an offer for you, as the newfound man of the house. Join me. Let me take you on as my... apprentice. As my servant. As my slave. As whatever I need you to be. In exchange for your servitude, I offer you not only your life, but the life of your mother and sisters."

You stare at the monster, whose eyes narrow as he waits for you answer.

[User] You agree

[Assistant]
"OK," you say, gulping.

The vampire smiles, perhaps in an attempt to calm you, but the way his smile curves upwards seems unnatural. It's like the smile of a wolf who has found a young, bleating lamb all by itself.

"Perfect," the vampire says, dropping you to the ground.

The monster walks out of the hut, barking out a single order.

"Follow," he commands.

You walk outside to the glow of the red moon, seeing a dozen bodies, pale from blood draining, lying on the street. A single carriage lies there, with a hunch-backed man sitting there, wearing a low-down bowler hat, a balaclava and a large coat that cover his appearance.

"Haygarth! We're finished here. I've fed," the vampire growls.

The hunch-back nods eagerly, grabbing the reigns of the horses.

"Yes, sir, ready to go, sir!" Haygarth says eagerly. "And the boy?"

"He is mine," the vampire says, as he steps into the carriage.

"Yes sir, yes sir! Up front, boy! Quickly!" Haygarth says.

You quickly walk up to the carriage, climbing into the shotgun seat of the carriage. Haygarth seems badly deformed, clearly attempting to cover his appearance with his large coat, low hat and balaclava, but he still looks monstrous. Haygarth quickly stirs the horses into a trot, as you leave the town that's always been your home.

"You're to serve Count Grey?" the hunchback asks.

"Yes," you say, barely coming to terms with the fact.

"Hmm... we'll see how long you last," Haygarth says. "Yes, we'll see..."

[User] Three Years Later...

[Assistant]
You sit on the ground, scrubbing the cold stone floor of the Grey Castle, named as much for its cold, lifeless demeanor as much as its owner. Haygarth stands over you, watching as he makes sure you do a proper job cleaning the blood stains that cover the ground, a remainder of the last girl foolish enough to be out at night.

So far, your job has been simple. You have little contact with Count Grey, as you work in the day and sleep at night, whilst he sleeps in the day, coming out at night to hunt, feed, plan and much more. Mostly, Haygarth forces you to work at any job he sees fit. He seems to think you're little different from a pack horse, working you as hard as them. If anything, he's feeding the pack horses better. You see your role in the castle as a servant on your more optimistic days, and as a slave on the worse ones.

"Good, good, put your back into it! Yes, that's it!" Haygarth says, as he hurries around the room, collecting pieces of clothes left over from the poor girl being brutally murdered.

"Yes, Haygarth," you reply, putting your pressure on the brush as you splash some more water to get rid of a particularly disgusting stain of a mixture of blood and urine.

Haygarth is a hard ruler, forcing you to work day and night. He's not sadistic or cruel, he just doesn't seem to understand that you're not an animal who needs a break. Hell, perhaps his only redeemable feature is the fact that he works himself even harder. As he rushes past, trying to do various chores, you can hear him angrily mutter to himself to go faster.

You finish off the stain, quickly crawling over to the next. You sigh as you realize just how much you need to clean. Your knees hurt from crawling around all day, your hands are covered in blisters, and you've done nothing but work all day. You had two ive minute breaks to cram food into your mouth, and one more to shit, and that was it. Who the fuck has only two people to keep an entire castle from falling into disrepair?

"Hurry up, boy! Use some of those strong muscles! I want to be able to see my reflection in it!"

Will he ever leave you be? The bastard can't just let you fucking work, he has to constantly remind you that you're not doing good enough?

[User] You insult Haygarth

[Assistant]
"Really? You want to see your reflection in the floor? Maybe I should leave it dirty so you wouldn't have to look at your malformed, pathetic excuse for a face," you say, as a year of anger is released in a single jab.

Haygarth stops suddenly, looking at you. He frowns, looking at the ground behind you, where ironically you've polished the stones enough for him to vaguely look at himself.

"You... you know, you sound just like my mother, or Count Grey. Mean. Cruel. Perhaps it's good you've found yourself serving a man such as the Count. He could be your soul mate, if he had a soul."

Haygarth hobbles out of the room, leaving you alone. You continue keeping working, but fuck, the floor is pretty clean. You sit down, leaning against the wall as you sigh as your aching muscles get relief. You take a deep breath, as you watch the the sun fall in the distance. After about half an hour, the moon has finally appeared, and Haygarth appears.

"Come. We need to wake Count Grey," he says, not looking at you.

[User] You follow Haygarth

[Assistant]
You follow Haygarth along the hallways with haste. You hurry down the stairs, quickly heading to the lowest floor, at the center of the castle, into a dark room, empty except for a single, candle-adored coffin leaning against the stone wall, and a large, black sword hanging above the coffin.

The coffin in intricate, a large, black wooden coffin with an intricate, thorny pattern, and a single silver, demonic face with a roaring mouth with a pair of fangs on the front.

The sword, on the other hand, is somehow even darker, its surface seeming to suck the very light from the room. Even staring at the thin edge makes you feel like you've been stabbed. You can practically taste the hatred and malice that emanates from it.

"Do you feel it?" Haygarth says. "That is the master of the home."

You feel the hairs stand up on your skin. The air tastes stale and rotten, and there's a general feeling of dread emanating from it. In a place like this, you feel even if you called on the good Lord to save you, he would be unable to find your soul in such an abyss of all warm or love, let alone rescue you from it.

"What now?" you ask.

Haygarth grabs your hand, pulling it forward until your hand touches the metal.

"It... stings," you say, as it feels like your hand is both being put against a hot stove and a freezing block of ice.

"You'll get used to it," Haygarth says, drawing an iron blade from his side.

Haygarth presses the blade against your arm, smiling as he slices open your arm, a long, deep cut appearing with a stream of blood.

"Ah!" you yelp as your arm is covered red. "Stop!"

"It's necessary," Haygarth replies. "We need to draw blood."

"Did you need to cut so deep?" you complain.

"I wanted to," Haygarth replies, shoving your arm in the silver mouth of the demon, cut first. Blood begins to pour down the creature's mouth, as the coffin's door clicks open. Haygarth grabs you by the collar, pulling you back. Count Grey steps forward. He looks the same as he has every night since the night he took you, except now his lips look parched and cracked, his eyes immediately darting down to your arm.

"Thirst," he moans, staring at your wound.

Haygarth hits you in the back with a snarl.

"Come on, boy, feed your master!"

You hold your arm forward, as Count Grey grabs it, his mouth darting down to your bleeding wound with an insane speed. You close your eyes and wait for the pain of his bite, but instead feel his cold lips on your wound, instantly beginning to suck the blood out of your arm. You take a deep breath as you go pale, Haygarth putting your arm around his shoulder to keep you from fainting. After about a minute, Count Grey stops, raising his head as he smiles.

"Good. I was thirsty. The bitch from the other night was dry, and half her blood ended up on the floors. Good thing I managed to stop myself from draining you completely," Count Grey says.

He looks up at the sword that hangs above the coffin, staring at it for a second.

"Do you see that sword? While I like to keep up to date with my weapon technology, such as with rifles. grenades and the new and innovative Maxim Gun, in cases of the super-natural, the old stuff is the best. I've had that sword since I was a child. Forged it myself under command of my master. So many ancient, arcane inscriptions, horrid rituals and infinitely worse had to be done to make it the thing it is today. It's name is the Psychí Líptis. It is a killing machine. You will become the same."

Count Grey s walking past you, and up the stairs.

You stand there, waiting, looking at Haygarth for what to do.

"Follow!" Count Grey's voice booms.

You quickly hurry up the stairs after him.

[User] You an Hour Later...

[Assistant]
You sit in the shotgun seat of the coach, as Haygarth continues spurring the horses forward. You're entering the village of Nitchidorf, with Count Grey resting in the back. The carriage's wheels roll into the village, stopping as you enter the village limits.

"Go open the doors for the Count," Haygarth says.

You nod, quickly hopping off the carriage. You run to the back of the carriage, opening it as the tall, gaunt Vampire steps out, tilting his head to stare down at you.

"Follow," he commands.

He begins walking along the street, staring at each of the houses.

"We must find you a little... playmate," Count Grey says, looking at the houses.

He sniffs the air, staring at the houses. His eyes flicker to you, filling you with dread as he licks his lips, still stained with bits of your crimson ichor, looking hungry.

"Ye-yes, master," you say, nervously.

The vampire stares at you for a second, before looking away. He seems impatient.

"Yes... I can smell two prominent ones. Tell me, Samuel, what do you think? There's a young one who smells freshly bathed and lemongrass perfume, or one that smells of fresh dough and... terror sweat. It appears the latter one can see us. Which is it, Samuel?"

[User] The first girl

[Assistant]
"Uh... the... the fi..." you stutter, tripping over your words as the vampire growls.

"Have I found myself with another fool, a boy with the mind of a mule?" the vampire says, his long, gleaning white fangs, the corners of his mouth still red with your blood. "I've had a year out of you. Perhaps it's best to finish you off now."

Count Grey slowly walks forward, snarling as his fangs poke out, looking like huge spears.

[User] You attack

[Assistant] You charge forward, but you're a child, and he's an immortal, ancient vampire. He grabs your neck, holding your head high to expose your neck. His mouth immediately shoots forward, biting into your neck as he begins to drain you of your life force. You gasp as your blood is drained, before he drops your dead body to the ground.


[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 lie

[Assistant]
"My sister's best friend, Moira Estacado called me and said that she heard Steve had been murdered and had a 'W' carved on him, the trademark of Westfield, I got worried because my sister had spent the night there and now she isn't answering her cell phone," You fabricate.

"I find that hard to believe since the police haven't told the media about Steve's murder just yet," Carla informs you.

"I also find it difficult that your sister's friend knew anything since the only person outside the police who knew a neighbor that called in and reported a person breaking into Steve's house, they sure as shit didn't know he was killed let alone the fact that someone carved a 'W' on him," Carla continues as she shoots down your story.

"Something I would believe, is that a person who didn't like the person their sister was dating would decide to murder them and try to frame it a crime lord," The detective deducts.

"I had nothing to do with Steve's death, why would I call the police if I did?" You try to defend yourself.

"People never think these things through, you know I took this case because I really thought it was connected to Westfield and this was a chance to bring him down but now I see you've just wasted my time," Carla concludes, "Why don't we go to the police station and perhaps there you can tell me what really happened, now are you going to be cooperative or difficult?"

"Fine, we'll do it your way," You submit.

Carla walks behind you and handcuffs your hands behind your back. "This is the smartest thing you've done all day" Carla says as she takes by the arm and leads you outside. As you leave the house, you spot a black sedan stopping in front of the house. Two armed get out and turn their attention towards you and Carla. The detective immediately pulls her gun out and shots at them. The first one goes down with a shot to the head while the second one returns fire. Carla fires at him, hitting him several times in the torso. Her victory is short lived as you've been hit in the chest during the shooting and fall to the ground. Carla runs to her police cruiser to call an ambulance, but you're already dead by then.


[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 ask to leave

[Assistant]
You're not sure how to ask, except to just do it directly. If it says no, it says no.

"Shelter?"
"Yes sir?"
"I want to leave."
"Very well sir. I shall bring the elevator down. You should pack your things."
"That's it?"
"That's it. I have provided the basics for your continued existence long enough for you to survive the initial onslaught of Armageddon, from what I have analyzed so far about your personality; you would only get bored if you stayed here any longer. I sense you are getting restless and I am not here to cause you discomfort. Perhaps you leaving is the logical thing for you to do."
"Well thanks."
"You're quite welcome, sir and before you leave remember to fill up your bottles with water, I'm sure you will need them."

You start packing up all the stuff you brought with you when you entered this place ten years ago. You didn't need most of it, but maybe on the surface you will. You grab your pistol. You don't know what you might have to deal with up there. You're all packed up and ready to go when the elevator opens up. You enter and the elevator races to the top. When you arrive at the destination you slowly exit the elevator into the same foyer you entered ten years ago. Same ATM like machine is there except its screen displays a single message at you.

*GOOD LUCK SIR*

"I'll probably need it." You say and leave.

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

Your immediate surroundings look relatively untouched. You can only assume there weren't any bombs falling near this area. You also see your van, you'd completely forgotten about it. It looks like it's even in worse condition than when you left it, which you never thought was possible. On a lark you take out your long unused van keys and try to start it up, naturally it doesn't even make a noise.

"Looks like I'm walking."

As you make you way down the empty road you see some smoke in the distance. Civilization perhaps? Not knowing where else to go, you head that way.

You're not sure of what to expect, but it'll be better than the eternal boredom you would've faced while still in the Shelter.

You're not too worried, you got your gun.


[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 join a different gang

[Assistant]
You don't think the guys in your school will accept you since they already now how lame you are, so you decide to join a different gang. You know of a bunch of mean looking guys who all hang out with each other a few miles from your house in a more remote area. You never really paid attention to what they're all about, but they seem like they're a gang, so you decide to check 'em out.

You head over to the area where you see a bunch of vans and bikes parked outside a run down looking house. You hear partying going on and music, then as you get closer you hear the sound of a shotgun being racked.

"Alright, just turn around boy. Slowly."
"Holy shit mister! I don't want no trouble" you say turning around to see a fat man in overalls.
"Yeah? Well you just might be in a whole mess of it. Whatchu doin' here sneakin' around on private property? You a jew?"
"Uh, no…I just, well I passed by here once or twice before and I noticed you guys. And I was looking if I could join your gang."
"Join our gang? Ha ha! Shit boy! We ain't no gang!"
"Um, you're not?"
"Hell naw! Only niggers and spics have gangs! We're an organization dedicated to the purity of the white race!"
"Oh."
"Hey, your blood's pure isn't it? I mean you ain't got some mud race mixed with you do ya? You ain't no faggot are ya?"
"Um no, and no."
"Well hell, come on in and meet the rest of the folks! As long as you're white yer all right!"

Not really sure of how to act, you go along with the big guy holding the shotgun. You meet lots of people, most of which have shaved heads and swastikas tattoos. There are a few women there, but everyone is definitely a white supremacist.

Oddly they're also all friendly with you. In fact you think this is the only time you've ever been treated okay by a large group of people. One of them tells you that he thinks you just feel alienated because as a white person you've been fed evil Jewish propaganda to feel ashamed of yourself, but they say when the revolution comes, good white people will be able to take the country back like God intended.

Again, you're not sure what to make of all this, but you're so glad for acceptance that you agree to listen to more Nazi philosophy.

A few months go by you're pretty much a believer, as the head of the local American Nazi Party chapter Daniel Count manages to weave half truths, misinformation and outright lies into your willing little head which is now twisted completely into believing things like Hitler being the true messiah for the white race.

You end up getting expelled from school when you openly say that the Holocaust didn't happen and that the Jew is using the black man as muscle to keep the white man down. Naturally your parents, as fucked up as they are, don't approve of this sort of behavior and try to put you into therapy, but you call them race traitors and run away from home to your new skinhead buddies who embrace you with open arms where you have a great time with all of them.

Finally you've found a place that accepts you.

Unfortunately for you, this skinhead hangout has been under FBI watch for months and one day they have enough evidence to finally bust the lot of them for owning and trading illegal weapons mostly of military ordinance. You happen to be there when the shit goes down.

The FBI storm the compound which results in a violent shootout. You join in to help your fellows, but are shot in the back by an undercover FBI agent before you even get a chance to kill any of the evil Zionists.

Well they might've "Saved Hitler's Brain" but nothing is saving your dead ass.

The moral of the story?

You joined a bunch of fuckin' Nazis, ya dumb shit; what the fuck did you think was going to happen?

Even if you're not into the whole liberal PC shit, you should've remembered at least one thing…

Being a racist typically limits your pussy seeking options down to only white women (and usually only ugly white women at that) and as a hetero male, you want to ALWAYS leave those options as open as possible, not limit them.

Anyway, the Nazis LOST the goddamn war, meaning you basically sided with losers; hence you were a loser, and got yourself killed ya racist fucktard!

Where's your Hitler now? Nyaah!

And now you know!