[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 take up Lifto's offer

[Assistant]
The more you think about it, the idea of sleeping in possibly cramped quarters isn't exactly appealing, not to mention Klepto said the place wasn't the cleanest. If you lay down the law to Lifto, you're fairly certain he won't try anything.

"Okay Lifto, get your stuff, you can stay over, but I think you know I don't need to tell you to not try anything."
"Sure. Really, it'll be nice just to stay some place less crowded for a change." Lifto remarks and goes to trailer to get whatever it is he's going to need for the night.

Klepto looks a little disappointed, but says nothing and just meekly heads back to his trailer as well. You already can imagine how rumors are going to spread, but you really can't worry about that now. You're not going to worry about possible "hurt" feelings especially when you're not involved with anyone here anyway.

Lifto and you soon head over to your trailer.

"Haven't really had a chance to completely clean up since I was given the place." You mention.
"Still cleaner than our place, and I've been over here a couple times when Ranko had it. Trust me it's starting to look better already."
"(Yawn) Thanks. Man, didn't realize I was getting so sleeping so quickly. I'm going to bed."
"Sure. I'm probably going to be awake for a little while longer, and eventually sleep on the floor."
"You sure you're going to be okay? I mean I know you have to sleep as well."
"I'm sort of a light sleeper, so even when I do fall asleep, I'll easily be able to wake up if someone even tries to pick the lock and creep in here. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."

You settle down to sleep and speak about a few superficial things to Lifto about how you think you're fitting in here and how you're glad he's staying here the night. He of course is very positive and tries to reassure you that it'll just take awhile, but eventually the rest of the carnies will accept you.

You aren't inclined to believe that, but it's nice to hear before you fall asleep.

At some point in the night you're awakened by Lifto noisily rushing to the door.

"What the hell?" you utter still half asleep.
"Suzy, stay where you are, some motherfucker's trying to break in!" he shouts and with some sort of blunt object in hand he slams the door open. It doesn't sound like he hit the person with the door, but you do hear a scuffle outside.

You look out the window and see who Lifto is fighting with and it's an equally large man. It's same creepy retard that was staring at you all day today. You knew it wasn't going to be safe to be here alone.

You quickly look around for a weapon of your own to help Lifto. Hopefully with all the noise someone else from the carnival will come running to help. (You hope)

Grabbing a knife you cautiously head towards the door still hearing the fighting between Lifto and the retarded hick. You open the door and see them both rolling on the ground. You can't really help due to the retard not being still enough for you to be confident to stab at him, not to mention you're really scared about this whole situation.

Nobody is out to help out either. You call out a couple times and you know it has to be loud enough for SOMEONE to hear now, but its like you're not being helped on purpose.

Lifto and the retard are really going at it and unfortunately it's starting to look like the retard is getting the upper hand. You really don't want to leave, but you figure the best you can do is to go get help from the other clowns.

You turn to run and you manage to get to the end of your trailer, before someone trips you to the ground in the dark followed by a blunt object smashing you in the back of the head. You go unconscious immediately.

When you wake up, you're groggy, naked and firmly strapped to a medical gurney of some sort. You also have a ball gag in your mouth. The room you're in looks to be some sort of basement with a bright light hanging overhead.

The stench of chemicals fills the air and to your left in a darker corner of the room you see a man in a doctor's coat hovering over another gurney with a body on it.

Naturally in such a state you start to panic and ineffectively struggle to get free. The "doctor" hears you and walks over to you.

"Oh, you're up. I'll have to give you more sedative. When Jed and Hugo brought you in, I thought you were going to be a useless slab of meat like they normally bring in. I was glad they showed some restraint this time. Honestly I'm very surprised they just didn't keep you themselves and have some good ol' fashioned fun or at least a quick in out before handing you over, but Jed did mention something about having to haul ass from your carnival as quick as possible."

As you continue to try to struggle and make muted sounds to cry out, the doctor begins fondling you and moving his hands to roam all over your body.

"Mmmm, nice. Not as great as my sister, but then none of them ever are. If I had the time, I'd probably shove it in your vertical smile for a while, but sadly I don't."

The doctor goes over to a tray and grabs some sort of syringe he fully intends on use on you and you've gone from mere panic to sheer terror.

"Really, you're luckier than most that come through here. Normally I keep 'em awake when I do my work, but I need you unconscious to take out those pretty eyes and other vital organs of yours. Wouldn't want you thrashing about or blinking to cause me to cut them all up and making them useless."

You watch helplessly as the needle goes into your arm. The tears run down your cheeks.

"There we go. Won't be long now. (Sigh) I swear it seems like I never get to enjoy my work any more though. I really would've liked to have fun with you. Oh well, I've got some other things to still look forward to."

You drift into unconsciousness again and your life ends where you ironically spent most of your time.

A basement.


[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 refuse the call

[Assistant]
While there is a part of you that feels sort of shitty about this, you don't feel like you have some obligation to go back to Teckleville. Annah obviously didn't want you involved otherwise she would have told you (or even your family) a lot sooner than she did.

In fact this makes you sort of reconsider your relationship with Annah in the first place. Sure, you two have love for one another, but it's always been the same and you two never stay together for whatever reason. If you go back, why should this time be any different? Might even be worse with children involved, you really don't think you'd make that great of a father. You'd feel trapped for one thing.

Maybe you'd feel different if it was just you and Annah settling down and living somewhere other than Teckleville together. You nearly did it before with Zalmora.

Hell, you don't necessarily need anyone. You've been doing okay on your own and you're just not feeling this scenario so it's probably for the best that you stay away and just move on entirely.

Still, you do feel somewhat of an obligation. Even if Annah didn't ask for your help directly you'll try to provide it anyway, assuming your father is willing to take it for you.

"Dad, hang on just a second." You say and go to the back of your shop and open up the safe (and disarm the traps) You then haul out some of the coin to put in a bag and a smaller amount in a nearby backpack with your basic tools.

You come back with your father still waiting and shove the bag in his hand. You're making this quick because arguing with him is a pointless endeavor.

"What's this?" your dad asks.
"That's everything I have in the shop. Now, I got more at home, but I doubt you're going to wait around to accept it and honestly carrying more might require hiring mercenaries to help protect it on your way back to…"

You get a headshake and a sigh before you can finish. Apparently your dad already knows what you're going to say.

"Y'know, I can't say I'm entirely surprised by this, but I sort of hoped I'd be wrong. Unfuckingbelievable. Y'know what, you're right, I'm not gonna stick around and you can keep this shit as well. You've made your decision to not return, well good because I don't want to see you ever again." Your father says and throws the bag of coin on the floor before walking out.

You stand there for a moment pondering your decision. You almost rush out the door to go apologize and say you're returning, but then you decide your first decision is your true feelings. You're not done living your own life, with responsibility only to yourself.

Seeing as you were going to leave here soon anyway, you gather up the coin that your father left and make your way to book passage on a ship. You're just going to leave it all behind and not look back.

You have no idea where you'll be heading, but your life as a rogue will continue with no further interference from your past.


[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] The lighter!

[Assistant]
Common sense says the knife would be the better choice.  I mean, how much damage can you really do with a lighter?  It takes too long to set someone's clothes on fire; you'll be tackled from behind before you have a chance to hold the flame in place long enough.  But for some strange reason, the lighter just feels like the right tool for the job.

Before anyone even has a chance to process the fact that you're there, you tackle one of the creatures holding the... other smaller creature down.  It's like running into a giant beach ball, except made of Paper-Mache.  You thought it would be harder to send the creature flying, but it's so light, you hardly notice the impact.  By the time the two of you hit the ground, you've already pressed the lighter to the thing's head and flicked it on.  To your amazement, it's skin goes up in flames faster than a pile of dry pine needles.  So fast, you nearly burn yourself before you manage to get far enough away from it.  These things not only look like they're made of paper, the also burn like it too.

"What is this?"  The leader cries, "What the heck are you?"

There's no time to respond.  The other creature (not the leader), is already upon you.  It charges towards you, so fast you can barely get the lighter around in time... But you do.  The creature runs right into the flame, recoiling as if it's been stabbed.  Within seconds it's reduced to ashes, just like the first one.

The leader stares at you and takes a few steps back.

"P-please..."  he says,  "D-don't hurt me!"

Before you have a chance to react, he's already running away, off into the forest.  He's far too fast for you, that's for sure.  By the time you get to your feet again, he's already disappeared into the trees.

As the dust settles, the weight of your actions sets in.  You've just killed two intelligent creatures.  Even if they're not quite human, they still talked.  What if they had family?  Kids?  You had no way of knowing the lighter would kill them.  You just thought you might give them a scare, send them running.  But the way they treated that other creature... there's no way they were really worth sparing... right?

Speaking of which, you'd better make sure that other creature is alright...


[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 elbow him and run

[Assistant]
You slam your elbow into his face and he drops you with a grunt.

"Fuckin' bitch!" he grunts.

You grab Ant's arm and yank him down the stairs, you turn, yelling at Mason to move the plywood as you sprint towards it. The Dead Man appears in front of you.

"Hiya, darlin'," he chuckles, blood spurting out of his throat.

He begins walking towards you, as Ant lets out a whimper. The Dead Man grins, his skin tearing open as blood trickles down his chin.

"I'm going to..." he says, before pausing.

There's a crunch as a large piece of plywood is pulled away by Mason. A beam of moonlight comes in, hitting the boot of the Dead Man. There's a sizzle as he boot begins to fade, and the Dead Man snarls. In the blink of an eye, he's gone. You don't know where he's gone, but you're not waiting around to find out.

"Come on!" you shout, grabbing Ant running towards the gap in the boards.

You scamper through, collapsing on the cool grass outside.

"What the fuck happened?" Mason asks.

"The Dead Man was there! He was there, and he was so mad, and he..."

"Ant, calm the fuck down!" Lucy shouts, grabbing Ant and shaking him.

"You're d-d-drunk as fuck, Ant. You d-don't know w-what you saw," Carter says.

"I did! Ask Hazel!!"

The group turns to you, and you nod.

"There was a ghost in there. It had it's throat slit and...!" you say in a nervous panic.

"Alright, calm down," Mason says, pulling you in and squeezing you in a hug.

You feel your heart flutter as you take deep breaths, your head nestled in your chest.

"G-get a room," Carter says.

You blush as Mason lets go of you.

"In fairness, you've drunk a fair bit as well. You're more pissed than I am. Maybe you were just seeing things in the shadows that weren't there," Mason suggests.

You shrug whilst shaking your head.

"I don't know."

"Come on, let's head back to Kyle," Becca says.

You walk back through the field and back into the woods, heading towards the trucks.

"S-s-so, this w-was a bad id-idea," Carter says. "We just p-panicked Ant and H-Ha-Hazel."

"We risked our lives to annoy what could have been a harmless old man," Ant says.

You arrive at the camp, and Mason swears loudly.

"FUCK! Where the hell is Kyle?" he asks.

The camp is empty, with no one in sight.

"R-r-remember last time we lost Kyle when he was drunk?"

"Oh dear God, he ended up pissing in my garden. He wasn't pissing into the garden. He was standing in the garden, pissing on my house," Becca says.

"That was funny," Ant says, still shaken up from his experience.

"We need to find him. Is anyone not sober enough to find this place again?" Mason says.

There's silence.

"Good. We'll split up and try find him. Ant, you head towards the Rotten Trees, Lucy, go towards our old tree house, Becca, towards the old drinking point, Carter, back towards town. Hazel, you're new here. There's a stream just over there," Mason says, pointing. "Just walk along there, and keep your phone on. If you can't find him, follow the stream back here."

You nod. Time to find Kyle.

[User] You walk along the stream

[Assistant]
You walk alongside the stream, your shoes squelching in the wet mud. You walk along to the drier earth, but they're already ruined.

"Fuck," you sigh, walking along. "Kyle! Kyle! Are you there?!?"

You hear what sounds like twigs breaking behind you, and quickly twirl around. Must've been your imagination. You continue walking along the stream.

"Kyle! Kyle! I don't care how drunk you are, do something! I'm getting sick of looking for you!"

You hear the rustle as leaves as the wind picks up, and what was earlier a hot, humid night is now turning bitterly cold, as the light that the moon was provided dims considerably. For the first time, you realize that you're walking in the middle of  a place you've never been, late at night, with no one around. You consider turning around and heading back, but you know if Kyle's passed out somewhere, you need to find him.

"Hello!" you call.

Your voice carries out across the trees. Then, the silence resumes. There's a silence so deadly quiet it's painful. There's no birds, no small mammals scurrying among the trees or undergrowth, not even a cricket. You take deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down, before you here a low growl. You turn around, flicking your head around desperately to find the source of the noise, desperately wanting to run but not knowing which direction to do so.

"Kyle? Is that you?" you whimper.

The growl stops, and the silence resumes. You stand perfectly still, not wanting to disturb whatever's out there. Then, it lets out a roar. The roar's incredibly loud and you scream in pain as the sound like shattering glass as concrete scrapes against each other. You feel pure, unadulterated terror, which is amplified when you spot the beast.

The Beast stands on four legs, the shape of a bear but the size of a large truck, covered in thick fur that's so dark it consumes what little moonlight makes it through the trees. It's eyes are pure red, the all-consuming crimson of fresh blood that peer through your eyes and bore into your soul. As it roars, it revels a mouth filled with hundreds of teeth the size of daggers, pure white and sharp enough to drill through solid steel. It stands, blocking the route back towards your friends. You need to do something, now.

[User] You run

[Assistant] You turn, and run as fast as your legs will carry you. Trees are torn up and sent flying away behind you as the beast gives chase. Thankfully, its size means that navigating past the trees is impossible, so it needs to tear them up and throw them away to follow you. You have enough of a lead to know you have two options: You could head towards town, getting help from the many armed residents of Dawnwood who have enough combined firepower to invade a small nation, which would easily be enough to scare away or kill the beast. Hell, the need for that is unlikely, as since there's been a lack of reports about this creature, it probably wouldn't venture out and follow you if you escape the confines of the trees. On the other hand, if you head towards the caves, you might be able to find a place to hide and escape this terrible beast.

[User] You run towards the town

[Assistant] You run towards the town, letting out a desperate scream for help. It charges towards you, the gap between the pair of you lowering. It sprints towards you faster than a truck, and finally manages to catch you, batting you with its paw with incredible strength. Your bones break and crack as you're sent spiraling through the air. You land in a heap by the soft earth and let out a shriek as your limbs twist at incredible angles that they're definitely not meant to go. The creature walks slowly towards you, and you try to crawl away but find yourself unable to move. You see the flash of the beast's teeth and a spurt of crimson before it finishes off its prey.


[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 continue.

[Assistant]
After asking all the questions you can think of, you watch the pained man writhe and groan. The domineering Kelso looks at his pitiful state, bends down and puts his index finger to right above where his carotid artery is, obviously sensing for the pulse. "Here, sink your teeth in and drink."

Although you are hesitant, your instincts take over as your mouth begins to water slightly, making it slightly less dry for the first time. As you bend down, you begin to feel... fangs protrude from your upper jaw. Sharp, powerful teeth, ready to satiate your hunger. Hoping to get it over with, instinct and lust takes over as you bring your head down and get your teeth stuck on top of his neck. Rich, red blood squirts with an ugly squishing sound.

"God damnit, on the artery!"

Kelso grabs your neck and, pulling your fangs out of the man, forces it back on the right place. You moan, half in pleasure and the other half in disgust. It tastes... salty, filling. It tasted good, and you don't mind choking on this stuff. It's the first time you've felt such a rush, it's like a drug...

But, on the other hand... This isn't human. This man... He's screaming, begging. Something about children and the forces of evil...

As Kelso let's you have control of your own neck again, the sudden rush ends, and you cough out the other man's blood. "You didn't have to kill him, but he's dead now. Which is actually a good thing, but you really should be less sloppy. You missed." He continues to smile. Kelso begins to strip the Zealot's armor off, and hands it to you. A walkie-talkie falls to the floor and clatters, though it remains undamaged.

"Now we can begin." He tosses you the armor, a hoodie, and some sort of... lotion?

You catch, it reflexively, "Begin what?"

"Our vengeance. Tying up loose ends. Give meaning to your un-life."

"I... I just killed a man!"

"Who was going to kill you. Plus, it was an accident."

You stand there, with bloody hands and a mouth dripping with delectable blood. Kelso... What's he up to? He... You think he's a good person, he saved you. But, this isn't right. Maybe you should get away...

"Snap out of it kid, we have a duty to fulfill. This isn't a blessing what happened to you and me, and that's why we need to kill the man who did this to us, so he can't do this to others."

[User] You lacking a healthy alternative, join Kelso for your new life.

[Assistant]
It's like the first time you remember Kelso. His hand outstretched, asking him to join you... You shake it firmly.

It's crazy, but you trust him. Like a baby chick to the first thing it sees... It's funny. He's become of a master and more like a father. While he may not have the most moral methods, he still knows way more than you and will help you through it. Besides, the Professor no doubt know your origins, before you kill him you might even get that from him. If you stick with Kelso, that is.

As silence consumes the conversation, you attempt at conversing, "So, the lotion..."

"Sun-tan lotion. It wears off after a small while, but it'll protect you when it counts. Spread it on your face, wouldn't want that to peel all the way off. The hoodie and that is the best things I was able to take."

"So you stole it?"

He shrugs. "Took it. We need to hide, remember? Can't have people know about us and our condition. The soldiers are much stronger when they are in control. Also: the Zealot's armor. It's worth equipping, just need to turn off the flashy-light part."

"And now what?"

"You stop asking questions and let me finish." He eyes you with seeming annoyance. "We'll be finding his stronger Creations that no doubt survived this long. They're a violent lot though, which is why having you will be a big help. I figure one of them will know where the Professor is."

As if reading your mind, he continues, "And we find them by trailing the C.E. Division, which have specific DNA trackers on some of us. Not you or myself, thankfully, but a good deal of the Creations were registered to the government. Government program and all... But anyhow, we're going to town soon. I say we wait at the police station, they should have an outpost there. After hearing where they are, we hitch a ride in one of their vans. Not a very elaborate plan, but it'll probably work."

He stares at you, as if expecting resistance. "Unless you have a better idea?"

"Actually...

[User] No. It seems solid enough. Let's do it."

[Assistant]
"It seems solid enough, let's do it."

He nods in return, as if pondering about something. "Then let's go."

"Now? Are you sure I'm ready?"

"Yes now. You're ready." Kelso smiles.

---

Suffice to say, you're pretty confident. You're in full control of your new body, and the armor you looted off the zealot may be bulky, but you'd be damned if you didn't look awesome with it. All this gave your self-esteem a much needed boost before setting off to the City. Kel, as you've come to call him, probably realized that when he offered it to you. Admittedly, it's probably why you haven't pressed him for questions on the plan; he just seems to have everything under control.

Now, on the night of the full moon, Kelso's ambiguous plan will be enacted. Perhaps the full moon was completely planned, or perhaps not. Regardless, the tension can be felt in the air. Regardless, the journey to the flashy city several miles down is uneventful, save for the fascinating landscape and occasional howls that Kelso doesn't seem to hear (you've mentioned this to him; and he took interest but told you to save it for later, as it may be important).

But yes, the landscape changed dramatically from the collection of half-buried houses that you were holed up in with Kelso. From complete, uninhabited desert, to a flashy, futuristic town with strobe lights and a somewhat dense population considering the size of the premises. It's not even that big, but it's... Out of place. Surrounded by desert, it stands as a beacon of light.

Your mentor is garbed with the hoodie he gave you earlier, his older, but surly exterior showing out in the twilight. As he leads you through the sand to the City, he suddenly stops to speak; and you stand at attention.

"So, you're probably all ears to hear what my plan was."

You nod. "Err, yes."

"Then why didn't you ask? Didn't my plan sound ridiculous"

The wind stops blowing. "I know you have everything under control. I trust in you, master."

Kelso turns to face you, his face solemn and grim.

"Then you're not what I need. I want to tame a lion, not a goat." He spits, and before you know it your face has hit the rough sand. You quickly turn to see Kelso jumping up, the moon behind him and his silver claws in front, his eyes now turned red and gleaming. You jump from the ground to the side, but his hand catches your chest. You breathe; it doesn't regenerate.

Another breath. More blood squirts out. His other hand now clawing at your eyes. Aching pain... it's all black, but you're still alive!

You can feel your body spasming, and you turn all your confusion into rage and power, but to no avail...

You have been killed by your mentor.


[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 escape from the "Shadow"

[Assistant]
"Sorry Shadow girl, but I think I'm straight."
"How do you know, if you've never done anything?"
"Well, I suppose I don't, but I do know I don't really have any desire to roll around in the grass with you. Sorry. Hope everything works out for you."

Moon Shadow looks very upset, so you leave her alone. In fact you decide to head back to the basement and continue your hermitage; you've had more than enough "adventure" for one day. Still you don't need to be completely alone.

"Well looks like it's just you and me again, old friend." You say pulling out your vibrator.


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

[User] You choose to lead rank and file

[Assistant]
If its undead you're going to face you decide you don't want to get caught fighting them with only a few men to help you. Captain Eckard is a little surprised by your decision, but chooses a few others to be the reconnaissance group.

Your replacements aren't as good as you might've been however. Many times they fuck up and miss a few demon bands that were fleeing from the Tulan Kingdom and ambushing whoever passed by. It's not too bad at first, but the closer you get to the capital, the more powerful these little groups are. The losses get more severe, but Captain Eckard insists on continuing.

By the time you get to the capital during most of the citizens there have been so corrupted or beat down by the demons at this point that they've either sold their own souls to Hell or gone completely mad. You're attacked by them and a few of the demon hold outs. Your own ranks have been severely weakened by this point.

It's during an ambush that you're suddenly hit by a fireball from a flame demon who was sitting on top of a nearby rooftop. You run around screaming and trying to put out the flames, but a couple of flying imps throw spears into your back ensuring that you lie still as you finish burning to death.


[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 eat a few granola bars.

[Assistant] You finish off the rest of your granola bars. You're full now, but are worried about what you'll eat when you get hungry again.

[User] You keep walking towards Clayton.

[Assistant] You walk for two hours and take a break. You've left the town you were in and are now in a more rural area. There's a farmhouse to your right and a forest on your left.

[User] You go in the farmhouse and look for food.

[Assistant] You try to open the farmhouse front door, but it's locked. There's a broken window on the right and a shed behind the house.

[User] You go through the window into the farmhouse.

[Assistant] You break the rest of the glass in the window and try to carefully crawl through. You cut yourself on the edges as you're climbing in, but you make it inside.

[User] You search the farmhouse for food.

[Assistant] You search around the farmhouse for food. You find some thick sturdy shirts and some rusty tools but no food. It's getting dark outside. You think it might be a good idea to sleep the night here.

[User] You sleep the night in the farmhouse.

[Assistant] You wake up in the middle of the night sweating from a nightmare. In it you saw a woman screaming in some dark place. You feel like you need to rescue her and that you're the only one who can help her.

[User] You go back to sleep till the morning.

[Assistant] You try to go back to sleep, but can't shake the feelings from your dream. You decide you might as well get up and see if you can do anything productive.

[User] You look around the farmhouse for anything else useful.

[Assistant] You look around the farmhouse for anything else useful. You don't find anything else useful.

[User] You leave the farmhouse and continue walking towards Clayton.

[Assistant] You get back on the road and continue your journey. After a few hours you realize how starving you are. You' really need to find a food.

[User] You look around to see what's around you.

[Assistant] There's an old warehouse and a few mechanics shops.


[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 your backpack, three cans of food, an extra jacket, a tarp, and a canteen of water.

[Assistant] The wind is noticeably colder today than it was yesterday. Already, you can feel the brutal winter creeping up behind you, taunting you by sending fatal, frozen ashstorms your way. As you trudge further south along the crack-laden road, your back hunched from the weight of the pack on your shoulders, the darkness that you've come to recognize as day begins to fade. You know that it would be reckless to keep moving in the black of night, so you resolve to camp out, eat some supper, and try your luck at sleep. Where do you settle down for the night?

[User] You sleep in the road. If you were to get caught in a snowstorm out there, you'd never find your way back.

[Assistant]
With confidence that you've made the right decision, you set your backpack down and hurriedly collect firewood, staying as close to the road as possible. You arrange the twigs into a teepee and spend what feels like forever rubbing two rocks together, willing a spark to ignite the tinder and rescue you from the cold. It's already dark by the time the wood catches, and you wrap yourself in your extra jacket and lean forwards to feel the pulsating warmth of the fire. Pulling out a rusty can of peaches, you quickly scarf down your dinner and observe your hands. Rotten and calloused, with frostbite eating away at your black fingertips and oozing sores around your knuckles. You recall observing your hands like this before when you were much younger, but you can't for the life of you remember what they looked like. Not that it matters, anyway. You can't afford to look back on a past that will never return.

You know this, and yet you fall asleep, curled up by the fire, with the tarp draped over you, staring at your bony hands.

[User] Next.

[Assistant]
You awake to the dull light—if it could even be called light—of morning. Your fire had died long ago, and as you look about you, it appears that everything is just as you had left it previously. You don't see this as a success on your part so much as a stroke of sheer luck that no one crossed your path. Gathering up your provisions, you swing your pack over your shoulders and begin on your way south.

After having walked almost five miles, you come across what used to be a bridge spanning a wide river. The rapids may have raced along the channel at one point in time, but now the thick sludge only creeps slowly over the rocks. It would be slow going, but the water is shallow enough that you think you'd be able to cross. (After all, the shattered bridge will be of no use to you.) What do you do?

[User] You attempt to cross. The longer you stay moving south, the better.

[Assistant] You step hastily into the water—and immediately recoil your foot. It's so freezing that you feel your foot instantly go numb. You take a deep breath and hesitantly step back in, bracing yourself for the brutal cold, and this time you manage to endure it enough to move your other foot into the river. With a great deal of effort, you begin steadily working your way across, with the water up to your knees, and then, to your waist. It feels like a week has passed by the time you make it to the other side. Climbing onto the shore, you collapse to your knees and struggle to catch your breath, and after a few minutes, you force yourself to your feet and look ahead. The road spans before of you further than you can see. With a deep breath, you continue on your way.

[User] Next.

[Assistant]
Grey snow begins to fall as you make your way slowly along the road. You're not sure how long it's been. Days? Weeks? It couldn't have been months, you think, otherwise it would be getting warmer by now. At least, that's what you hope is true, for there would be no meaning in migrating south every winter if summer only grew colder. You amuse yourself with thoughts like these in an attempt to forget the twisting, empty feeling in your stomach. Impulsively, you remove your canteen from your pack and take a quick drink to quell the swelling of your throat.

Later in the evening, you come across an abandoned gas station—actually, why do you even refer to it as abandoned? Everything in this world is abandoned and decaying, isn't it? ...There goes your brain again. You can't let it get to you. You have to hold on to the hope of survival, because without it, life isn't worth living.

You take a deep breath and force yourself to enter the gas station. As you expected, all of the shelves have been ravaged and there's hardly anything worth keeping. You pay no mind to the open cash register and instead begin fumbling about through the mess in search of something, anything worth eating. You ran out of canned food long ago, and your stomach has been protesting its neglect by twisting about in knots with every breath. You peer into one of the broken refrigerators and spot a sealed packet of some sort of lunch meat, hidden away in the corner. You open the door and pull it out, staring longingly at the pale hunk of long-expired, browning flesh. What do you do?

[User] You eat it. If you're going to survive the rest of this journey, you NEED to eat something!

[Assistant]
With an intense hunger welling up inside, you tear open the packet and scarf down every last slice of meat, licking your fingers and the plastic once you're done. It's starting to get dark, so you hurry outside with a newfound, perhaps imaginary, stamina and bring firewood back into the building. As you set up the fire, you feel an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach and have to rush into the corner of the store to vomit. This persists for most of the night, eventually causing diarrhea and such a spike in temperature that you can hardly move. Curled up on the floor and highly delirious, you pass into an agitated sleep.

For the first time in a very long time, your dreams are pleasant. You find yourself to be a child again, playing on a playground swing set. You dig your feet into the mulch and push yourself in circles until the chains are wound so tightly that they send you spinning around and around. You let out a laugh. The dizziness makes you want to throw up, but you just keep laughing.

Death takes you in the morning.


[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 it alone

[Assistant]
Captain Eckers is probably just venting, you doubt if he's actually going to do anything. Besides the captain is about the only one you can slightly relate to around here and he's always been all right with you so you decide it wouldn't be a good idea to report him.

You return to your duties as usual without giving it anymore thought. In the passing months, the captain never spouts off anything else to you so you figure you were right in your assumption that he was just venting. Nothing to major worry about except the increasing boredom of not having much to do at the fort. You haven't seen a gnoll in months now and you don't really like it. They've never disappeared for this long of a stretch and it makes you suspect they could be up to something because you refuse to believe that they've just decided to leave you alone.

The next time you see the captain, you tell him that you'd like to take a platoon up into the hills to scout out the area, and while he says he'd like to send you, he has his orders.

"But you said yourself, that we could do a lot more good if we just went into the hills and wiped out all the gnolls." You point out.
"I know what I said that day, and perhaps I shouldn't have spoken out like that to a subordinate. (sigh) Look, despite my feelings on this situation I know I've damaged my career enough as it is. If I go disobeying orders, I'm just going to get myself in deeper. Besides if the gnolls have been as quiet as they have been perhaps we did kill them all, or at least scared them so much that they won't attack ever again."

You of course aren't convinced, but there is little you can do. If the captain is content on sitting on his hands you're going to have to do some hand sitting yourself. It's very frustrating.

Year 41

"They're breaking down the doors!" a soldier yells.
"Hold 'em dammit! Don't let these hyena bastards step one foot into this fort!" Captain Eckers commands.

The captain can order everyone all he wants, but the fact is those gnolls ARE breaking down that door. They have an overwhelming superiority of numbers on their side and even of reinforcements did arrive right now, you're still sure that it wouldn't be enough to save you in time.

As you grimly prepare yourself for the onslaught that's about to bust through the doors, you think about how bad of a choice you made seeking to find your place here in this kingdom of cowards and fools. If you'd stayed with the Empire instead of leaving it, you wouldn't be in this situation now. Even if you failed to keep it from collapsing, you would've at least died honorably in its service.

But this? There will be no honor in this death. You're going to die, because your superiors and their superiors were either too timid or idiotic to do what was necessary and you're an even bigger idiot for following along into oblivion.

No more time for regret now though, the gnolls are breaking through. Already the first soldiers still trying to keep the doors shut are screaming their death cries from the axes cleaving into their flesh and spilling their innards onto the floor. Captain Eckers displays a pitiful showing as a gnoll with a halberd severs his head from his body before he can even attack once.

As for you, you make the gnolls earn every inch they step into the fort. The first two that step to you have their heads blown to gooey pieces with your flintlocks, and then you resort to tried and true methods of slaughter.

You hack down several of their number before suffering any major wounds. Even then, you continue to fight with the determination of ten men. The bodies of gnolls pile up, the blood is everywhere and you've just suffered an injury that should've rightfully killed you, but you continue to fight. All the anger you feel at this situation is being directed utterly towards the gnolls until it finally burns itself out and your body pushes itself past its limitations of physical exertion.

An axe cleaves into your skull, followed by another into your arm, severing it just enough to hang from a bit of tendon. You fall to your knees, then to the floor and that's when you feel another axe to your back destroying your spine. A finally kick by a hefty boot to the face and the gibbering laughing howls of the gnolls is the last thing you hear.


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

[User] You haravan-IV

[Assistant]
Amadeus, more than happy to see you leave and the leadership of the vessel to fall into command of the Staine siblings who will eagerly shower him in luxury to appease him,  gleefully navigates the vessel towards Hararan-IV. Landers ferry people, equipment, supplies and rare resources down to the planet, where they begin to set up a huge settlement, which take the form of massive, sprawling underground bunkers to avoid the constant destruction and need to rebuild because of the tsunamis that would come from above-ground structures. The prize of these settlements are. Huge orbital cannons being employed, made from a few of the ships macro cannons, designed to fend off any pirates who attempt to land there. While the Gloriana-class vessel is in orbit, a pirate vessel soon shows up. Rather than flee or attack, the pirate captain demands a parlay. Soon, you find him and two human guards in the war-room, with as he tries to make a deal with you.

"Mr Karth, I'm Captain Lipton. I'm a man of action, but I'm also a man of words. You don't become a pirate captain by endless bloody violence like a Chaos war-band, you become one by getting the nob done, whether that be with violence or words. The planet you have chosen to settle on is very valuable. It's good for giving a crew rest, it has exotic food, beasts and spices that are very valuable, it's away from any powerful forces that would seek to stop us, and it's near a popular trade route while on a good smuggling route."

"OK. What's your point?" you ask.

"I want to make an alliance. You have a powerful hold on the planet. I propose that together, we build a port, to supply the the pirates and smugglers in the section. My forces will build and maintain it. All you need is to protect it, and give us use if the land. Every pirate that lands will give us a bit of the plunder. Every smuggler that lands will bring us exotic goods and rsre luxuries. We'll be rich!"

Hmmm... it's an interesting proposition. What to do?

[User] You agree

[Assistant]
"Done," you say.

"Perfect," Captain Lipton says.

He extends a hand, which you shake. He slides a bottle of red liquid and two glasses from a cost pickets popping it on the table, followed by a lighter and two big lho-sticks. He pours some liquid in both glasses, offering one to you.

"Here's to success," he says.

"To success," you reply, downing your drink.

[User] Three Years Later...

[Assistant]
Paradise and Luxury

You lie in a hammock, a bottle of spiced wine in your hands. You've become quite accustomed to the drink, as have many nobles and rich merchants apparently, hence why its smuggled through here on a regular basis. You watch as Landers land in the distance, trying to tell whether they're the Morallian smugglers or the space marine pirates.

Your relationship with Captain Lipton has been a profitable one. The standard of living for your men has risen greatly, as a huge amount of wealth floods through here, as well as rare and exotic goods and luxuries that you're all eager to get your hands on. You know Captain Lipton hasn't exactly been fair with the agreement, taking the lion's share of the profit to fund his wars for control with the other pirate vessels, but you're making enough that you couldn't give a flying fuck.

Your relationship with Fay goes well. You have a wedding festival, a grand event that cost a small fortune. Soon, a child is conceived, a beautiful daughter with her mother's body and her father's powerful mind. You know she will do great things some day.

Although your life is pleasurable and easy, you do have one major issue, one problem that has driven you to drink, to gamble, to eat, to take various drugs and to laze around: boredom. The only fights you get to take part in are stopping the occasional drunken scuffle or fending off a raid which the orbital cannons make an ease. You feel you've wasted your potential here. Still, you're happy. You've a daughter to carry on your legacy. What more could a man want?


[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 forget about her

[Assistant]
You're not going down that route again, you broke it off for a reason and while there have been relapses of that reason; you're not just going to give up completely on it.

In fact the best way to put all this behind you is to involve yourself in the Nyttrus campaign. You figure immersing yourself in what you excel at is a good way to get your mind off this. Namely killing lots of things.

You prepare for your journey to Nyttrus and leave orders to Decena that she has full authority to act in your stead while you're in Nytrrus.

"I don't anticipate anything going severely wrong while I'm gone, but you never know of course. In any event, I'm sure everyone will accept your authority and if you have any problems Warrick and Kivan are probably your best people to ask advice if you need it. I don't expect you'll need to though." You say.
"I thank you my Emperor and as always I am honored that you would place this much faith in my ability to oversee an entire continent."
"You are the best suited and this is what you were ultimately trained for in case the worst should happen."
"That won't happen." Decena says.
"Well, let's hope that is indeed the case." You reply.

Leaving Decena in charge you finish preparing for your trip to Nyttrus and soon leave with several hundred third generation Eternals.

When you eventually do arrive in Nyttrus the place does indeed remind you a bit of Delerg though even hotter. The kobold leader Snilkez'ka is the first one to greet you and exclaim that now that you're here, the war will go much quicker and victory should come swiftly.

The first few weeks are indeed very successful ones, and it does appear that victory will come quickly if the Iznac are falling as quickly as they do, but as always not everything is so clear cut…

The Iznac realizing that they are facing a power that they've never encountered before resort to unleashing a powerful "secret weapon" in the form of three very large flying lizards. And these aren't wyverns either. They are creatures that Casimir once told you were rare even back in his day. They're dragons and the first thing they do is completely obliterate one of your forts.

To make matters even more complicated the orcs that abandoned their duty have somehow come to an agreement with the Iznac and are now allied with them. The Iznac have also rallied the other major race inhabiting the island, the Glip against you, though some of their villages were already hostile anyway.

You fall back a bit on the advance and regroup realizing that the conquest of this continent is going to take a lot longer than anticipated.

Year 60

"We'll hold the line at Fort Canopy and Fort Tangle, then after they've expended all their energy on this massive assault of theirs, we can make our own advance and wipe them out for good." You say and then promptly stagger a bit away from the table in pain.

General Flevas and Captain Snilkez'ka move towards you and ask if you need help, but you of course decline. Though the truth is, you could use some help, just not in the way they are offering.

Ever since the dragons reared their ugly heads this campaign has been one struggle after another and taken a great toll on your body. While you've managed to kill two of the giant lizards already, it's almost been at the cost of your own life. Your last battle with one of the creatures practically cost you half of the left side of your face given that you're missing an eye and an ear now. You're even missing part of your non-dominant hand. While healing magic is powerful, even you can't regenerate completely lost limbs or other organs and you've been pushing it to the limit as it is. You might be holding off death in the in the short term, but you've probably been shortening your life span just by using it as much as you have.

You've been in contact with Decena who has been giving updates via letters on what's been going on in Evigrus since your absence and the general reports are always fairly boring. No major problems or anything, in fact Decena on several occasions has requested that she come help you on the Nyttrus campaign and while she would've been of great help you still want to keep yourself separate from her. Not really because of any possible feelings between the pair of you anymore, but more because you want to keep her safe.

Quite honestly, you don't think you're going to survive this campaign and even if you do win, how many years do you really have left anymore? Or years WORTH living?

Decena is your successor. While you sometimes briefly thought that you might find a way to live forever, deep down you always knew that it was always going to be Decena to take your place when you died. It's probably why you've wanted to be away from her. She'll be able to take your death with less pain when it does inevitably occur. She also needs to be alive and while you have no doubt in her abilities, there is no point in playing with her life. Perhaps your own, but not hers.

You dismiss Flevas and Snikez'ka and tell them you'll be fine defending Fort Canopy by yourself and that they should focus on Fort Tangle's defenses and with any luck the airships will take out the dragon.

Days pass and you and your troops prepare for the inevitable assault, which comes in excessive force just as predicted. Perhaps even a little more.

You look over the battlements and see several Iznacs climbing the walls of the fort like an army of ants. They aren't even using ladders, they're just scaling the fort with their bare hands. It's actually rather impressive, until you unleash a chain of lightning to zap all of them. The shock is enough to at least cause most of them to fall off if not outright kill them immediately.

Your people are doing their best though they can't stop every Iznac from scaling the fort. Soon the gunfire is replaced by sounds of close combat weaponry. No matter how far the advances in technology, it always eventually comes down to looking your opponent in the eye and feeling their blood splatter as you end their life.

While you're busy hacking off the limbs of an Iznac warrior, another loud explosion in the distance is heard followed by a bright flash in the sky. It's the destruction of your last airship from the dragon. Flaming wreckage crashes down in the distance. Won't be long before the dragon turns its attention towards one of the forts.

Iznac, glip and orcs all attack the fort and while it's a brutal affair, your Eternals are holding their own in the face of overwhelming odds.

You then hear a roaring sound getting closer and the sounds of great wings approaching.

You shout a general command for the still working cannons to be pointed towards the dragon and to prepare to fire when the beast is in range. In the meantime you try to keep that side of the fort relatively free of invading forces.

The dragon gets closer and you give the order to fire and unleash your own magic bolts at the creature. It's definitely wounded from its ordeal with the airships, but given your experience with the other two dragons, you know it's far from being out the fight.

In fact it's so determined that it doesn't distinguish friend from foe when it blasts its flame breath on the fort. You manage to protect most of your people with a magic barrier, but for those outside its protection, most are set on fire if not incinerated immediately. On the positive side, it reduces your enemies, on the negative it ignites the gunpowder barrels for the cannons causing a massive explosion and completely destroying one side of the fort.

While the barrier still protects you and everyone within initially, it's still a lot of strain on your energy and you begin to feel the fatigue setting in. and you can't hold out any longer…

Your strength falters and the barrier goes down and the flames envelop you and several of your troops.

In the last moments of your flesh melting off your bones you only regret that this fort will fall.


[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 go to your family

[Assistant]
Really, it's the only thing that makes any kind of sense anymore. This war is lost there's not even any doubt about it. Hope is fleeting and if this is truly it, then it's going to be with the ones you did this for in the first place.

Your small groups of soldiers wonder where you're going and you flat out tell them, in fact you tell them more than that.

"I'm going home, and I suggest if any of you have any family you go to them as well. This is it folks, there's no happy ending here. It's been a pleasure serving with all of you."

You then ride home as quickly as possible.

The farm is scattered with undead. They attack and in some cases eat the livestock, while attempting to get into your house. Dead Zalan soldiers can be seen, except they aren't properly dead like they should be. The farmhouse is being attacked and you can see your sister firing her pistol at the zombies from one of the broken windows. You trample a couple of the zombies with your horse and kill couple more with your bow, but eventually you dismount and chop up the remaining ones near the farm house, since you want to save your arrows for anything potentially more dangerous.

"Quick get inside through this window, the door is barricaded." your sister Randi shouts when she sees you.
"No! It's a death trap to stay now! This place is lost! You all have to come with me!" you shout back, keeping an eye on the advancing zombies.
"Can't Mom's hurt pretty bad. Got stabbed by one those corpses. We can't move her. Help's gotta come soon…"
"NO, it won't Randi! The capitol of Zalan is being attacked as we speak! I came home to get your guys! This is the fucking end! We've lost! We just gotta…"

You're interrupted when you have to cut down an advancing zombie. Your sister fires a shot at another one. Suddenly a scream from the house is heard, followed by another. That has to be Calwin, and Makana. Randi rushes from the window and you cut down another zombie before bashing the door down with relative ease.

More screaming is heard along with growling this time. You look around and run down the hallway where Randi is standing motionless. She's dropped her pistol.

You push her aside and see your other sister Makana dead on the floor and then a quick scan to the left and you see your mother eating Calwin.

She's one of those things…

You act where Randi failed and give a killing blow to the thing that was once your mother.

"I'm sorry." You whisper and her blood splashes across your face.

Now you're ready to get the hell out of the house, but Randi is still standing there motionless.

"COME ON! WE GOTTA GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" you shout.
"Yeah...okay…" Randi says and begins to move like she's in slow motion and picks up her flintlock.

You run past Randi in the hallway who's still moving slowly.

"Randi get your ass mov…"

You hear a gunshot behind you. Followed by the slumping of a lifeless body. You don't even turn around, you don't want to see.

When you get outside, surprisingly the undead haven't become unmanageable yet, and you cut down another couple with relative ease. Your horse unfortunately has run off, you're on foot from here.

You don't even know where to go. Where is it going to be safe? Nowhere, but you lack any other ideas, so you just head for unclaimed wilderness.

After about a day of running, hiding and maneuvering, you're in a relatively safe location and that's when you finally allow yourself to grieve for the loss of your family. You weep.

You've lost everything now. Everything you did was basically for them, and now they're all gone. You don't know if you can even continue. What would be the point? The world seems to be doomed anyway.

But then after you think about it, you decide that if death is taking over the world, you're not going to make it easy. Death has already taken everything away from you except your life, and you're going to hold on to that as long as possible. You're going to live for your family and all the others that can't any longer.

You're going to survive, because ultimately that's what you've always done. You've cheated death more than once already and you'll continue to do it. Death itself is going to have to hunt you down if it wants your life.

After reaching this conclusion, you try to think of where you should go next. Going to any type of centers of civilization is out of the question now. You'd only have to move again, them being targets now.

So it's the life of wanderer now. The question is where would be best? The forests aren't exactly safe, but you're more familiar with surviving in them. The mountains might be a little safer, but living in them is going to be a lot harsher.

[User] You stick to the forests

[Assistant]
Running from the undead, only to die of starvation and the cold in the mountains isn't your idea of survival. You're sticking to familiar terrain. You travel further away from civilization and ultimately deeper into a large forest. You're not exactly sure of where you're at, but you know you've left the Zalan borders. You're probably in the unclaimed area north of the Retlad province. You never patrolled that far when you were stationed there, so you're unsure of what to expect. You'll certainly have to be alert though.

A few weeks pass and you've got the hang of it. A few close calls with an Eberaw Hunter, but you've managed to make somewhat of a home for yourself. You mainly sleep in the trees. You get water from springs and small streams and as for food, well you always were good at hunting.

You pass the time playing your mandolin and just basically keeping watch. As the days pass by though, you get the impression that someone is watching YOU.

It's not any undead though. You haven't seen any in weeks. You haven't come across any living creatures of higher intelligence either, but then again that doesn't mean they aren't around…

"Hello stranger. Do you like our forest?" you hear a small voice say.

You look around, but see nothing. You guess who ever it is, is invisible, and you nearly go for your weapon.

"Please, no need for that. You are among friends here, musical one." The voice says and then you see your unseen host appears before you. She's very small and probably only comes up to ankle. You've heard of fairies before, but you've never seen one.

"Are you a fairy?" you ask.
"We go by many different names. Technically I am a pixie, but if you prefer, fairy will do. We heard you playing over the weeks and I thought it was about time we told you our appreciation for it. We didn't know you big people had gifts for it. You are human are you not?"
"Yes, and thanks."
"So, what brings you out here? Are you a ranger perhaps? You seem to have skills about you that are useful in this environment."
"No, not a ranger. Just trying to escape death like everyone else I suppose."
"Hmm, you realize as beautiful as this forest is, it's not without its dangers. Death is here as well, but I'm sure you know that."
"Yes, but its at least reasonable. There aren't zombies and wraiths terrorizing the place…well at least not yet…"
"What are you talking about stranger?" the pixie asks quizzically, you look a little surprised yourself.

"The Great Lich Lord of course. He's destroying everything, and I dunno how he's going to be stopped. I don't think he can."

Your words immediately make the pixie's cheerful demeanor change immediately.

"…he's returned?! But he was killed centuries ago! My clan has told the stories for generations!"
"Well, he's back, or someone like him…you really didn't know? I mean this war with him has been going on for years now. Ten to be precise. Don't you leave this forest?"
"You must understand stranger, we have everything we want here. There is no need to leave. We also live in illusions, what you see now, is not necessarily what is. We remain hidden in our illusions so nobody may ever harm us and we can live our lives in relative isolation. It is only on rare occasions that we reveal ourselves."
"But I've heard stories about your kind being elsewhere or even in cities." You say.
"Well we are not the only fairy folk you know! Perhaps the others you heard of were sprites, or brownies or even a different clan of pixies. I can only speak for my clan and as far as I know we are the only fairy folk that live in this particular forest. There are other denizens of course, but thanks to our illusions we stay safely hidden. Even the occasional human or goblinoid that has wandered in here has not disturbed us. Quite frankly, you'd be the first person in centuries that we've revealed ourselves to."
"There aren't any elves in this forest?" you ask, sort of figuring that some might have retreated or made a home here, forests being their natural homes and all. Your question is met with slight annoyance.

"Most certainly not! This place has been elf free for millennia and hopefully stays that way! I'll speak no more of this elven nonsense!"

You don't press the issue, but up until now you figured fairy folk and elves were all friends, guess not. The pixie changes the subject since she wants to know more about this Great Lich Lord business and says her name is Qweet. Qweet tells you that she will return with the rest of her clan, as she will not reveal their home of course. In a somewhat playful yet firm tone she also warns you not to try to follow her, though as good of a tracker you are you doubt if you could anyway since she turns invisible again.

While you wait, you still can't believe she and the rest of her clan don't know anything about what's going on; you almost envy them for living in blissful ignorance for the last ten years. You also feel like you've ruined things for them.

Eventually more pixies return and you tell them what's been going on. They are saddened, but maintain a confident demeanor. They are certain that they will survive this plague due to their illusions. They explain that if need be they can hide the entire forest, which with the new grim information you gave them they are very inclined to do. They still have to discuss it.

In the meantime they say they hope you'll stick around for awhile as they still enjoy your playing and you aren't destroying the forest. You're just glad you've met some friendly people that aren't trying to kill you. It's a nice change and after what you've been through recently, you welcome it.

One year passes…

Your time in the pixie forest has been relatively safe. Other than the occasional aggressive forest beasts, you haven't had to do much combat. It's been a relief. You've enjoyed the company of the pixies as well.

However, your natural curiosity has gotten the better of you on occasion and you have made a few trips outside of the forest.

You travel as far as the Retlad province and the first obscure village you stumble across is completely decimated, with undead roaming around. The scary part about it is this is very recent looking, which means they're starting to head your way.

It'll start with the occasional zombie or skeleton wandering in. Then more will come. How long before an army arrives? Again due to your information, Qweet and the rest of her clan have made the final decision to hide their forest entirely. They tell you that they would like you to stay. You would even be allowed to see their true home. The only stipulation is that you would not be able to leave. The illusion wouldn't just hide the forest, but it would create a barrier preventing entry or exit. You can't imagine how it would look to those on the outside of the forest.

Appealing to be sure, but as much as you like the company of the pixies, you don't think it will be safe to dwell in their forest for too much longer, illusions or not. The Gnomes back in the Garwold Confederacy had some excellent illusionists as well, and it didn't help them.

[User] You stay in the forest

[Assistant]
This is probably the most satisfied you've been in a long time. Why bother running anymore? You're not going to be any happier elsewhere as you eek out an existence. This is a place where you can play your music and have a regular appreciative audience. Perhaps the pixie illusion will fail, perhaps it won't, but this is your home now.

"Queet, I'm staying."
"That's wonderful!" she squeaks.

The pixies go through with their plan of hiding the entire forest. They explain that for everyone else it will look like a rock mass and the magic shield will prevent entry in case someone bumps into the "rock". Creatures inside will only see more forest outside the barrier and will probably be baffled to as why they can't go any further, but will probably not make any serious attempt to do so even if they could.

The pixies also allow you to enter their little village. Naturally you're much bigger, but a special arrangement is made so that you can stay nearby and they build you a tree-house of sorts and provide meals and drink for you.

Life with the pixies full time is relatively nice. Of course a few are prone to play jokes on you sometimes, you don't get mad about it and they usually make up for it later. A few years pass and it gets to the point where you almost forget about what's going on outside the forest since almost everyday is a pixie party filled with merriment and music. There's one particular time when there was a brief magical disturbance in the illusion, but the pixies managed to correct it. It does cause you to get concerned, but the pixies still insist that you not worry.

After fifteen some odd years pass, the forest begins to signs of unnatural decay, and forest creatures seem to be dying way before their time.

Some of the pixies have made comments of not feeling themselves, which is very odd since being fairy creatures they don't normally get sick. You haven't been feeling up to your usual standards either. You at first chalked it up to age, but you know that it's more than that. The Great Lich Lord's influence has finally penetrated the illusion. Death is creeping in.

The months pass and the illusion begins to break down despite attempts to keep it up. At last for the first time in years you see the "outside world" again. It's desolate and bleak. The Great Lich Lord has been thorough in his conquest of the world and with this new found green patch, it won't be long before it becomes as dead as the rest of the landscape.

Perhaps because they're magical creatures of nature, the pixies cannot withstand this death aura as well as you can, and they begin dying. Their illusions and happy lush world utterly destroyed.

"Wh…why is this happening?" are Queet's last delirious words before she expires.

One by one they all die. You weep as you can do nothing for them. Nobody can. Once again you've lost another family. You wish you'd left the damn forest long ago just so you hadn't deluded yourself and gotten so attached to the pixies only to watch them die.

However, you decide that this place will be your last stand as well and you're too tired to run even if there was anywhere safe to run to anyway. You fight off undead creatures for a couple months as you attempt to survive in this now dying forest, but ultimately you're overwhelmed and killed.

Sadly, unlike your pixie friends, you are not allowed to rest in peace as you wander the landscape in search of the last remnants of life to destroy in the Great Lich Lord's service.


[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 kill Clyde yourself, along with the rest of them

[Assistant]
Before Jim can do anything, you take the initiative and splatter Clyde all over Ramon, and Dan.

"SHIT! MY BOOTS!" Ramon yells. Dan doesn't say anything, he just falls backwards on his ass, fumbling to get out his own pistol. Another blast near him, stops him from pursuing that line of action though. Jim has pulled out his own weapon and is now pointing it at you. You're not worried.

"Stop talkin' about killin' and just fuckin' do it." You say calmly.
"Oh we're gonna stop talking alright, and the killing will be continuing with YOU!"
"Still talkin'. How about we see how much of a bad ass you claim you are?"

You toss away your shotgun and step out of your home, pulling a big ass knife from a sheath attached to your waist. No don't have any fear whatsoever.

"Holy shit Jim this motherfucker's crazy!" Ramon shouts backing away.
"I don't give a shit, this dickhead wants to play it this way, I'm more than willing to oblige."

Jim tosses his pistol away and pulls out a knife as well, at which point you grab the pistol from your back. You shoot Dan in the head first, knowing that he's currently still the biggest threat, then you quickly shoot Jim in both of his legs.

"ARRGH! FUCK! TREACHEROUS BASTARD!" Jim says holding on to his kneecaps.
"Aww, look at that, looks like you won't be able to ride either; you know what that means…that's right."
"Ramon kill this fucker!" Jim yells, but Ramon's already run off to get on his motorcycle. He manages to get it started and go a couple feet, before your bullets to his back cause him to fall off and dump the bike which skids out of control and slide noisily across the empty road. Ramon's still alive, but he's not going anywhere, you turn your attention back to Jim, who's attempting to retrieve his weapon, but you prevent that from happening with a couple more shots.

Finally you go back over to Ramon's bloody limp body. He begs for his life pitifully.

 "Please…don't…shoot…me…"
"I'm not; I've wasted too many bullets on you fucktards this day; I'll be finishing you off with my knife."

Four more bodies. While these types at first seemed like "kindred spirits" they really weren't. They were just more victims. You hack off their heads and put them on stakes as is your routine. You place them a little further from your home this time, as if to stretch out your "domain" a little more.

After this distraction, you go back to your usual solitary existence of talking to yourself and laughing at your own macabre jokes.

4 more years pass…

It's been five years since you embraced your mad hermit ways. Over the years you haven't had many visitors, at least not directly. You started getting bored and began venturing a bit further from your home, not too far though. For the most part you never really found anybody, except the odd bandit, or lone wanderer. You started torturing most of these people before killing them. Not for entirely for pleasure, but more for information, since you began to get curious about what else was going on in the world, or at least in your area, you found most of the information fascinating.

Apparently to a few towns, this area is considered a dangerous area inhabited by mutant cannibals and everyone advises all right thinking people to stay away! Nobody thinks it's just one person killing everyone. Some how that fills you with pride.

However, you also hear about some new organization called The Combine, attempting to "tame" the wasteland. It seems they're in some sort of war with another organization called the Cybernetic Evolution. From what you heard, neither one seems to be a shining beacon of light in this dark world, and that sort of reassures you too. It means that civilization won't be making a come back anytime soon, you LIKE the way things are.

Of course there are drawbacks, to the strongest of the fittest ideology and that's the fact there's usually someone always stronger; one day you get more direct visitors again. This time you're awakened by the sounds of a couple of vehicles and several people. You prepare you weapons and head upstairs, watching from your peephole before acting.

You see a bunch of paramilitary types; they're armed and look a lot more prepared for combat than your past visitors.

"Whoa! Watch that trap Steve! This whole area seems to be filled with them."
"Roger, why the hell are we here anyway? We should be fighting those fucking cyborgs. We've got them on the run!"
"Because Harry said the towns around this area are worried that due to their loss in man power from the current war, they'll be defenseless from the mutant cannibals that live here."
"Since when does Harry give a shit about the Combine citizens?"
"I dunno Leonard; he doesn't…though I have noticed a slight change in his personality ever since he hooked up with Marina. He's slightly less of an asshole now that he's getting some every once in awhile. Shit, I'm glad he sent us here, I was sick of killing cyborgs. Mutants would be a nice change of pace. Probably easier to take out as well."
"I don't even think there's any mutants here. I mean come on, some of you guys went to the city, and other than there and a few of them wandering around the outskirts, have you ever heard of any organized mutant presence anywhere else? It's probably just a really vicious biker gang, look at those bikes over there."
"Well that's a good point Vivica, but I doubt if its simple raiders or bikers. Those types actively attack towns, not linger in one place, though I suppose it's possible."
"You know what I think? I think its just one crazy fucker killing people in the area. I mean look at all the vehicles here. If it was mutants OR raiders, we would've come across some of them by now, and besides, since when do either extensively use traps? Nah, this is some sort serial killer survivalist. He's probably listening to us right…"

You open up the door and blast the current talkative Combine soldier with your shotgun, spraying his skull and brains all over the place.

"RUN!" Robert shouts, as all of them scatter. The one called Leonard scatters in the wrong direction though and falls into a pit trap. From his screams it sounds like the sharpened poles inside didn't kill him immediately.

The Combine soldiers hide behind the various vehicles and fire upon your position, but you've already closed and locked the door at this point, staying low to the ground as bullets begin finding their way into your home.

After the barrage of bullets, things go silent for a moment You look through your peephole only to see them all throwing grenades at your home! You immediately retreat to the backroom of the store, as the grenades explode behind you giving the Combine soldiers a way in.

[User] You descend into your underground lair and ambush them there

[Assistant]
You fling open the trap door and quickly climb down; you figure as soon as they attempt to come in after you, you can easily pick them off.

Unfortunately the Combine soldiers are a little too smart for that. They've been fighting cyborgs for so long that their usual response to a tricky situation is throw explosives at it. Which is exactly what they do.

They dump a few more grenades down the hatch, you see them and get cover just in time, but the explosion causes a weakening of the foundation and ultimately causing part of the store to collapse in on itself. Your murderous ways are finally put to an end when a wooden beam falls on your head and the rest of the debris buries your unconscious body forever.


[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 offer it a tooth

[Assistant]
Not knowing what else to do, you step forward, pointing to one of your teeth.

"A tooth. You get one tooth."

The figure nods happily, motioning for you to kneel down. You do, and suddenly its disgusting fingers force their way into your mouth. They're surprisingly cold, tasting of a mixture of soot and rotting flesh. Its fingers squeeze a tooth tightly, before tearing it free of your mouth in a single motion. You go to move away, but the creature doesn't seem satisfied with its single tooth now that its so close or doesn't understand your offer, grabbing another tooth.

At that point, you quickly panic, and begin to move desperately as you try to escape it as it tries to hold you in place to remove your teeth, shaking you violently in an attempt to get you to stop moving. You keep moving your head rapidly, trying to avoid it getting a grip on another tooth.

It lets out a rasping scream in frustration. Finally, holding your head tightly, it twists it around and forces your head under the black, murky water. The water oozes into your throat, flooding into your lungs as you try to scream, but instead the liquid just pours into your throat. As your body seems to realize its hopeless to fight, the last bit of strength drained from you.

Your last thought is a morbid one, but you think that it'll be a lot easier to pull out your teeth once you're dead.


[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 lay low

[Assistant]
You had a brief revival of the "glory days" when you first fought along side Lena. And while it was fun while it lasted, you believe you're done with such things now. A storm is coming and you're not going to stand in its path because it'll ultimately be a fool's game.

You take steps to seal up the more accessible entrance to your sanctuary. It would take quite the effort to try to break in now, but you doubt if anyone will make the effort. You've been in this situation before and you handled it just fine. You can easily do it again despite what Dendrin might say.

You do wonder how Lena will handle the situation. She'll probably fight, but if she's learned anything, she'd do better to flee with her family. In any case you've made your decision and you return to the familiarity of the garden.

"Looks like I'll be spending a lot more time with you again Talia, just like the old days."

Year 65

Several years have passed and you still haven't a clue what's been going on the surface nor do you care anymore. You haven't even made the attempt to even take a peek, you've kept your entrance sealed and haven't dug out any new ones. As predicted nobody has attempted to intrude on you, so why bother leaving?

Throughout the years you've been trying to keep your mind occupied with your conversations with Talia and even Dendrin when he sees fit to speak to you anymore. You also continue to write in the journal you keep, but if anyone read it now, they probably wouldn't understand any of it as your thoughts have become disjointed and not of a sound mind.

You babble a lot to yourself nowadays, and not just in the usual way you do with Talia. Over the years you've actually been including others, such as arguing with Cyrus on a regular basis about how his tactics will not work against an Empire encampment or laughing at Murk on his latest tale of how he's failed to woo Bianca.

In other words, you've practically gone mad. One moment you're fully aware of your surroundings and living in the present, the next you're living in the past again. You've created your own reality and aren't leaving it anytime soon. Dendrin tries to snap you out of it, but eventually he realizes the futility of the task and stops speaking to you altogether. Hardly matters as you've got more than enough disembodied voices in your head to keep you company.

You continue like this for a few more decades until you eventually die as the mad hermit you are, and like most mad hermits, you leave no lasting presence in the world.