[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 fire through the door!

[Assistant]
You raise your shotgun, aiming through the door as you try to target where a sitting man's head would be or a standing man's heart. You take a deep breath, before squeezing the trigger.

The shotgun bucks, the blast tearing through the door and carving a hole, wood breaking, cracking and splintering from the blast. You hear a grunt from inside, quickly reloading as you stare through the hole, seeing a limp man lying in a chair, blood running down his chest.

You wince as you hear the shot echoing off the wall, realizing just how loud it was. That'll no doubt draw the attention of the werewolves, so you need to act fast. You reach through the newly formed hole in the door, unlatching the door lock and opening the door. You move into the room, staring around it at the racks of equipment. Most of it is useless to you, picks, shovels and other mining tools. Most importantly, however, are your targets. Racks of C4, plastic explosives, dynamite and timed explosives are stacked haphazardly in crates in the corner, no doubt to be used for sabotage and destruction by the werewolves' servants, and the werewolves in their human forms. You smile, seeing nothing but potential there. There's definitely enough to wipe out these sons of bitches and bring this mine down on its...

A growl interrupts you from your planning, as you turn to see a group of werewolves racing down the mineshaft towards the armory, no doubt attracted by the gunshot. You swear, seeing how close they are, and that you've already damaged the door beyond repair, leaving you with little defenses against them.

"Fuck!" you snarl, seeing the werewolves quickly approach, a large, black creature with streaks of gray in its fur taking lead, as you hurry with the explosives, trying to arm them in time as you fumble with triggers.

The werewolf claw tears through the bullet hole from the shotgun, claws tearing through splintering wood and breaking past it as it quickly carves its path through the door. It lunges through the hole, barreling on top of you as you scream, shaking desperately to get the beast off you, before it finishes you off with a weak claw strike that tears through your neck and carves open your spinal cord.


[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 don't answer. Scream at the scary ghost!

[Assistant]
You scream like a little girl. "Ahh! Help! A ghost!" You scream.

The ghost does not look impressed. "Yes, yes I am a ghost." She replies. "Are you quite finished?"


[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 charm training

[Assistant]
The man takes you to a wardrobe that sits in the corner of the warehouse. He starts pulling out different types of clothes and shows you how and why they are different from one another. He shows you different types of materials and styles of shirts and suits and explains when and where the different types should be worn and who they will impress. He spends some time showing you how you send messages non-verbally and how to focus those messages so you are more clearly communicating with someone, even when they don't realize it.
The man looks at you and says, "We are out of time. You are either ready or you are not ready. And that is what we will determine now." He turns and walks over to a door in the rear of the room and disappears through it. You are alone in the large warehouse, wondering if you were supposed to follow the man.
You have trained the following levels of skills:
Stealth: 1
Charm: 1
Weapons: 1


[System] Narrate an interactive dark fantasy adventure. The world is brutal and unforgiving. Respond to the player's actions with vivid, immersive descriptions and let their choices carry real weight.

[User] You will launch a barrage of magical missiles against the goblins.

[Assistant]
Knowing this is the final facedown, you summon up all the energy left within to create a hail of tiny magical missiles that strike their targets with deadly accuracy. The goblins fall under your precise hail, and even Farhan and the ugly creature are subject to your attack, although both appear to shrug of the magical assault.

You feel you are beginning to blacken out, and the last thing you see is how the ugly goblinoid creature is brought down under three wolves. Then, your vision fades to black.

You awake, unsure how long you were asleep, to the feeling of something breathing in your face. You open your eyes and stare into those of the giant black wolf.

You tense in shock for a moment, but the wolf seems unaware. There is something strange about its eyes... it looks dead.

A pleasant voice calls out to you: "Ah, I see you made acquaintance with my new friend. I admit, it took a while to tame him, but in the end, he was willing enough."

A shiver runs down your spine as you recognize it as Farhan's.

"A brave show of you, indeed. You slew many a goblin. But I no longer require them, now that I have a more powerful ally. So I might thank you for getting rid of them for me."

Farhan pauses a moment, then adds: "Please understand that my gratitude has its limits, though. Blackfang, feed."

Before you can react, the jaws of the black beast close around your throat, and not even a dying scream escapes your lips.


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
Sisterhood

The future…

"Hey, those trailer park rednecks had been fucking assholes to us for years. It was high time that we burned that whole heap of trash to the ground like it deserved. It's just too bad we couldn't do it when we were temporarily stuck in that hell hole." You exclaim.
"Yeah, I know I just sort of wish there had been another way to deal with them. Wiping out entire communities isn't really something that is particularly popular you know. I mean there were children and other innocents there too." Donna says.
"Well that's why we can blame that shit on the Cult of Tiamat. They're the crazies that took things too far, or whatever…I dunno, you know how to spin this shit, you're the politician not me."
"Oh yes, the alliance with the cultists. That's going to be an easy spin…(Sigh) I can't believe you convinced me THAT was a good idea."
"Hey look, if we had gone head to head with those trailer park assholes by ourselves, it would've been a bloodbath for us. Considering the cult was also their enemy, it was a good opportunity to re-establish an old contact as it were. Besides, Bobby's bitch of a sister Diana wasn't around anymore so I knew I'd have more clout. Not to mention we've got a peace agreement with them now so that's TWO less enemies in our immediate area now."

Donna gets up from her desk and pours herself a drink. She downs the whole glass in one gulp and pours another shot.

It's funny; she used to drink for enjoyment at one time. Nowadays she drinks to keep herself from being overwhelmed with all the shit she has to deal with. That party girl is long gone and when she took over New Security from Henry she disappeared completely.

Popularity was always her specialty, but you've always been the stronger one. Without you Donna probably would've failed at this community leader thing a long time ago.

Of course without Donna, you probably would've gotten lynched by an angry mob a long time ago. That "good girl" that once hid out in the basement is long gone too. While you didn't become the "outlaw savage" that you worried about becoming, you still lost that "civility" and over the years as you had to deal with shitty things in this shitty new world, well it was just easier to be the cold bitch that would kill someone without hesitation.

And that's why you're a team.

"So Suzy. You and Bobby rekindle something?" Donna asks putting down her glass.
"Hah, no. Bobby's one true love nowadays is his blessed Tiamat. Followed by his sister Helen. Still, it doesn't hurt that I was an ex that I imagine he still has the occasional fond memory."
"You think he'll leave us be?"
"Sure. I mean we'll always keep an eye on his group, but now that those rednecks are gone, more territory has opened up for Bobby. He'll be satisfied in the foreseeable future."
"Okay…(Sigh) ugh, I don't feel like going out there and giving a fucking speech right now…"
"Look, I know you're stressing about this, but I promise you the people of this town aren't really going to be that upset by the destruction of a bunch of hostile trailer trash. Some of them will probably throw a party. This isn't the old world anymore where you got the U.N. or some shit waggling their finger at you for war crimes. People are back to the mindset that their tight knit communities come first and fuck everyone else. Besides even if you do have some idealistic fools screaming about injustice or some shit, you've still got the support of our militia of which I am currently head of. I'd say you're not in any danger."

Donna smiles and shakes her head.

"Jesus Suzy. I'm sure glad you're on my side." Donna says.
"Hey, sisterhood forever right?" you say extending your hand.

Donna nods and grips your hand followed by a hug.

"Sisterhood forever Suzy."

And with those words, Donna straightens her clothing and heads out of her office to address the public and you follow close behind.

A few winks, a few smiles and a few lies later and Donna has the public in the palm of her hand just like you knew she would. She just needed your support for that extra boost of confidence.

Not bad for a party girl and a basement dweller.


[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 try to escape

[Assistant]
All of this is too much for you to handle. You know you're dead, but you still feel afraid. You don't know what to make of any of the shit Warnov just said and you don't care, all you want to do is run away from all of this.

You take off running in a random direction with a confused stated of mind, not really knowing what is going to come next. You're so overwhelmed by confusion and fear that you don't even notice how much faster you're actually moving.

You aren't paying attention to too much of anything until you feel Warnov tackle you to the ground.

Warnov quickly snaps your neck so you can't move and looks a little mournful as he crouches near you.

"I'm sorry human. I should've known better. Not everyone is meant for the gift. It is with great regret that I must now kill you. Such a loss…for both races."

Warnov pulls out a silver blade and jams it into your heart before cutting your head off and putting an end to your short undead life.


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

[User] You say "Markov killed Inea and then went insane."

[Assistant]
"Why look farther than Occam's Razor on this? It's the simplest explanation," you say. "Carst, his actions may have been...drastic, and there may be no logical explanation for his destruction of Order property, but before the station sabotage everything points to him murdering Banca."

"I think so too," Hinsman says, "but we don't have any details at all on what happened to her. Certainly no evidence."

"That he would feel compelled to return to the medical arm where she died is a good indicator that he was emotionally compromised. If his goal had simply been to destroy the station he would've started in the central computer room. And who else could've killed Banca? Oswen?"

"Well that was my original theory..." Karoff muses, stroking one end of his mustache.

"You read the personnel files too," you point out, cutting him off. "Matti Oswen is considerably shorter and lighter than Inea Banca was. It would take a lot to swing a canister at the back of Banca's head at that height, with that force. Furthermore, the damage was on the back of the left side of the skull. A right-handed person standing behind her would've struck the right side. And meanwhile there's only one left-handed person on this ship."

Hinsman's eyes light up. "Markov Carst."

"Damn, I was hoping it was the girl," Karoff complains.

"What? Why?"

The pilot shrugs. "No reason really, I just like being right completely by accident."

"Anyhow, great job Zee," Hinsman says, choosing not to respond to that. "But I just wish we had more evidence. It's really too damn bad we can't get at anything in the medical wing. At least one murder occurred and serious damage was done to a vital Order refueling station; everyone in HQ is going to be looking hard at this, and you know how they can sometimes be a little...overzealous. I don't want them demanding a bunch of answers from Matti that she can't give. The poor girl's already been through enough."

"Well...we can check for the report," Karoff says. "The one on Banca. Maybe it wasn't ever finalized and sent but it has to exist if Oswen said they wrote it."

Hinsman nods. "All right, let's do that."


[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 expand to Holgard

[Assistant]
If anything you've learned here in Klyton, it's that it isn't so much the law and order that makes being a criminal suck, it's when everything is legalized that makes it suck.

Despite the rebellion problems in Holgard, you know there is always some sort of iron fisted tyrant in charge that puts restrictions on shit. You'll probably get a better price for Yellow Angel there rather than Hessla where every substance is acceptable and most likely cheap.

While the Ebony Claw is a concern, you can't quake in fear of them. In fact other than the story Tom told you a long time ago, they have never been a factor in Klyton. Maybe it's time to see if they live up to their reputation.

After supplying Vaughn with a good portion of Yellow Angel, you send him and a couple outright thugs and one of Camid's "apprentices" on their way to Holgard. You tell him you want someone to send you a report on the situation by the end of the month.

In the meantime you have everyone available to start trapping portions of the sewers and continue business as usual.

One month later

"Hey boss, news from Vaughn. One of our boys is here." Dorian tells you.
"Finally. I hope he's got good news. Send him in." you say.
"Um, okay, but I should add, he doesn't look so good. He says there's some problems"
"Wonderful. Well he can tell me himself, just send him in already."

As you wait for the messenger. You just ponder what the hell the problems could be. You're guessing maybe with the ECS. If Vaughn is asking for more help, your answer is going to be you can't spare it. You're having a hard enough time with the militia who haven't let up despite you making things difficult for them.

When the messenger comes in, he's carrying a box held closely to his chest. You notice he's not only missing an eye, but he's also missing a hand. You don't remember this one's name, but this was one of the bigger men you sent with Vaughn.

This really doesn't look good.

"Boss…the Ebony Claws…we got our asses kicked! We're undone! Everything is lost!" the big man shouts.
"Calm yourself. What the fuck is going on?"
"This! This is going on!" the man shouts and tosses the box on your desk.

You already got a bad feeling about what's in the box, but you open it anyway. It's only half surprising that you find Vaughn's bloody head in it. The ECS also went out of its way to carve its symbol into his forehead.

"Shit!" you shout angrily.
"Boss…" the big man starts to say.
"Besides you is there anyone left?"
"No! They only left me live to…to…"
"Yeah, I know. Send the message. Fuck. I gotta deal with the militia here, but I can't just let those EC fucks get away with this shit. Argh. Gotta think…"

You start pacing a bit as you think, but the big man still lingers around

"Boss, we gotta get out of here!" he exclaims.
"What the hell are you on about?" you ask.
"The Ebony Claws! They're coming!"
"Wait, you're saying the Syndicate is coming here?"
"Yes! We gotta go!"
"While I get that you've probably suffered a bit of torture, but you need to find your strength or get the fuck out of my face. If the Claws are coming here, then I'm going to repay every one of the men they killed with ten of theirs. Them coming here is just going to make it easier. Let them fucking come! I'm going to be prepared!"
"No! You don't understand! They're coming RIGHT NOW! We…we…told them everything! They know all about the hidden exit tunnel to this place! They only just released me a few moments ago to distract you."

Your expression drops to one of anger to one of unease, but it doesn't stop you from pulling out your pistol and shooting the pathetic snitch that just sold you out.

"EVERYONE GET READY, WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" you shout and walk past the snitch's body.

Unfortunately it's already too late. The Ebony Claw Syndicate has already infiltrated the escape tunnel and its members are already inside doing battle with your people, which aren't many in comparison. The Syndicate apparently decided not to fuck around when considering you a potential threat. It might be flattering if your life wasn't in grave danger.

After dispatching a couple of the ebony claws, your goal is to leave through the "front door" and hopefully escape to the Yellow Angel lab where you can regroup with Camid, assuming that place hasn't been invaded as well.

You get to the front door as the last of your Talons struggle against the Claws. As soon as you do, you get a bolt in your forehead. It all happens so fast, you don't think you even notice the one who shot you even though they had to be directly in front of you at the time.

You just stand there, blink and then fall backwards to the floor as your followers die screaming around you.


[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 leave and look for Allison

[Assistant]
You decide it's better to go look for Allison than to wait around at school. It's not like you're learning anything important anyway. You brazenly walk out the front doors of the school and head towards the park Allison took you to on Saturday; the only place you think she could be.

That is to say you start to head there, when you see Allison walking towards the school. Confused, but with your objective already achieved, you approach her. She notices you, and brings her gaze to the ground.

"Hey, Allison."

You say. Moments after the words leave your lips, you realize she seems off.

"You okay?"

You ask in a concerned manner. Allison brings her eyes to yours briefly, before looking away and doing a small shuffle backwards.

"...I'm fine..."

She replies after a short silence.

"You don't seem fine..."

You reply, fairly certain she's feeling nervous. Though, given your last meeting that's to be expected. Not being the best with words, you decide you can't apologize for this properly, so you move straight into your question.

"So, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the fair with me..."

You say, unconfidently with a small blush. Allison looks up at you, and for the first time you notice her eyes are bright blue. She stares at you expressionless for a second, before smiling.

"Yeah, that's just like you."

She says happily with a giggle, her mood changing completely.

"Yep, this is fine. I shall allow you to take me to the fair, Jacob."

She continues in a fake haughty tone.

"Great. So...we're good then?"

"Of course. I was never mad at you to begin with."

She replies in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I'm just dealing with some things is all."

She says, walking by you towards the school.

"Come on, you really shouldn't skip school."

Allison says with a sheepish smile, continuing towards the school.

Like you're one to talk...

You think to yourself with a smile as you follow her.


[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 heroes show compassion and understanding.

[Assistant]
With time and love, you are convinced that Organa Mel Fy can be converted into a peaceful member of society. Perhaps she will even redeem herself and become a hero. As much as you would like to tell yourself that your actions are purely heroic, deep down you know what you really wanted. Don't worry, I won't judge you. After all, you are at that age of sexual hyperactivity where the only thing on your mind is sex, and sex, and sex, and sex.

You offer Organa Mel Fy an awkward hand of love and friendship, which she accepts, not that (s)he has much of a choice at this point. You, Jon and Organa Mel Fy consummate your union in the smoldering ruins of a once proud forest and Osprey's birdshit hut. The sensations you experience are… unique.

The divine overseer in the eternal heavens is rather displeased with your choice. Canon dictates Organa Mel Fy is evil and deserving of a gruesome death. You cannot just spit in the face of canon and expect to come out unharmed. Consequently, the titles of knight and hero are beyond your grasp. Naturally, you turn to a life of villainy in retaliation.

 and your unholy union is on the verge of kingdom-wide conquest and savagery. The bedroom antics are as fierce and wild as ever. Organa Mel Fy didn't lie about the sexual ecstasy. It's amazing what a little magic can do in the bedroom. By the screams, one would swear the dead are cumming. But kingdom-wide devastation is not all sex games. Castles lay in ruin, cities burn, and famine and plague ravage the land. You personally hunted down and rape murdered every last unicorn to prevent the birth of another hero who may one day end your reign of terror. Fortunately, villains always get their comeuppance in the end.

One day while enjoying your depravity a rouge dragon from the nearby kingdom of Irelandshire flies overhead and roasts the three of you in a blast of dragonfire. The wyrm proceeds to eat you and utilize your energy as an aphrodisiac. The dragon is celebrated as a hero and he and his mate are pronounced king and queen of the kingdom.


[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 risk spurring your horse down the slope

[Assistant] You spur your horse down the slope and the lawmen cry in alarm as you vanish from sight. Bounding and slipping your horse takes you down the slope in what seems mere seconds and you are in the safety of the trees. Riding as fast as you dare through the woodland you make it to safety and escape from Tennessee back to Missouri. You later read that Tom Webb was found guilty of armed robbery and sentenced to eight years imprisonment, true to the rest of you he doesn't identify his fellow outlaws. You hide out in Missouri over the winter and spring until in the summer the gang re-gathers again in the little Missouri town of Otterville.


[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] Okay, what will you use as a weapon? You have your new tote bag, (which is pretty heavy with a phone, bottle of water, and iPad). Also, there is a wheelchair that has been left at the foot of the escalator.

[User] You use the wheelchair.

[Assistant]
The metal of the chair is light enough to swing but hard enough to hurt them. You send one sprawling into the now-moving tram and the other into the path of the crowd getting off the escalator. A few people seem to stumble over their own feet as they step on the goblin, but they--especially a woman in stilettos--injure him badly. Both lie there, bleeding yellow blood. They're not dead, but both injuries look fatal.  Neither of them is going to be in any condition to chase you for the next three hours.

You probably shouldn't feel that triumphant. Sure, there were two of them, but they're three feet tall.

But you do. You've never fought with anyone (or, in this case, anything) in your life. And you won.

[User] You get on the tram.

[Assistant]
You hurry onto the tram just as the doors close.

You aren't stupid--no way is this hell over with. But at least you're safe for now.

The tram slows at B Gate. Will any of them get on? You edge near the doors, ready to leap out, but none do, and the tram ambles onward.

A guy about your age, tall and skinny with a t-shirt advertising a Dropkick Murphys show from eight years ago gets on. He notices you.

Huh. Come to think of it, not many people have done that since you found the first postcard. You're no Megan Fox, but you are a reasonably attractive twenty-year-old girl, and you're used to a moderate amount of male perusal while in public. And yet, for the most part, people's eyes have been sliding past you all day. Only airport employees have acknowledged your existence. Weird.

And yet this guy sees you.

That's probably not good.

You edge a little closer to the doors. What if he's one of them? A normal college-age boy outside, a goblin inside? Maybe that's the next level of this--at first the monsters are easy to spot, and then they're in the form of fairly cute guys.

He walks up to you. "Hi."

This close he looks familiar. Familiar like a human I've seen before, or familiar like a goblin?

"I think we went to camp together."

His eyes are a yellow-striped green--what color were theirs? You can't remember. You were too panicked to notice.

"Guess not," he says. You must look pretty freaked out, because he starts backing away.

And then his face clicks into place. Triple R Ranch. Summer before fourth grade. His name is Dmitri, and the reason you still know that is that he was almost your first kiss. (Instead it was this loser named Jason in sixth grade. He told everyone you tasted like bubble gum--which doesn't seem that bad, but somehow he made it sound absolutely disgusting. What a prick.)

"Wait," you say. "Dmitri, right?"

"Yeah. You're Claire."

"Clara, actually. That's my real name." You like Claire better, but it was too hard to keep telling everyone to call you Claire. They kept forgetting, and finally you just gave up and went with it.

He asks where you're going, and you tell him. He says he's going to Philadelphia to spend Christmas with his dad--he's headed to the same terminal you are.

His eyes move over you, but not in a flirtatious way. "Are you okay?"

You look down. One of the goblins has ripped your jeans from knee to ankle. Also you are sweating profusely. "It's been...a stressful trip," you finish lamely.

"How so?"

He seems to know there's a deeper meaning to that--which isn't itself strange, Dmitri's always been able to read people pretty well--but you can't shake the feeling that running into him is a little too coincidental. Should you trust him enough to tell him you're being stalked, or just politely brush him off?

[User] You trust him...well, a little.

[Assistant]
You make up a story about an old boyfriend who is following you and has threatened to kill you. The authorities won't do anything because the threats are all verbal, and there's no evidence, and he has a perfect record. Dmitri is skeptical of this at first, but when he sees your fear is real, he starts to believe you.

"So what are you going to do?" he asks.

"Get off at Terminal D, I guess. He's got to be watching Terminal C, since he knows my itinerary."

"Yeah, but he's watching for you, right?"

"Yes…"

"So let's be a couple. He'll be looking for someone alone, and that terminal should be pretty crowded since it's a Delta one."

Should you agree to this, or continue with your original plan?


[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 run into the bedroom and try to circle round to slip out the front door

[Assistant]
You dart through into the bedroom and moving as swiftly and silently as you can you circle round to the hall door. As you expected both Detectives run straight through the kitchen and out the back door where they begin shooting at the fleeing Ol. You take your chance, dart out the front door and immediately make a left to the safety of some nearby trees. Fleeing through the thickets on foot you make it to the farm of a friend several hours later.

Over the next few days you learn what has happened: Ol was indeed shot dead while trying to run away while John was also killed and George arrested in a series of raids (George later receives a short jail sentence for armed robbery). Shaken by your narrow escape you spend the next three years moving around Missouri and generally lying low until you finally get back in touch with Frank and Jesse James and Cole Younger and arrange a meeting at the home of your mutual friend Clell Miller to return to your chosen profession of robbing banks.


[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 just walk into the battlefield and let it end

[Assistant] You stroll forward into the battlefield, watching as dozens of brightly colored and heavily armored Space Marines near you. They raise their weapons and fire, as others attempt to get to your with chainswords. You offer no resistance. You don't attempt to dodge the fire, or to block it, or even move. You feel the shells burst through, your organs being decimated. As you collapse back in a pool of blood, you hope death will give you the peace you could never get from sleep.


[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 leave the City

[Assistant]
Going to another part of Zeropolis really isn't going to help. The Shadow Horde will just eventually move on to those as well, you need to get out of this damn City. Even if you are hounded by humans at every turn, at least they're easier to deal with than those overgrown beasts that are in the Shadow Horde's ranks.

Still you think you can make things slightly easier for yourself. You're a mutant, but you aren't exceptionally mutated to such a degree that you couldn't pass yourself as one with a disguise. You immediately start searching through old Zeropolis Guard equipment, when you find a gas mask you think "Pefect."

You also get some gloves and hooded cloaked, basically clothing that will completely hide your body and face. When you look in a broken mirror you are confident that not many would think you weren't human unless they insisted you take off your mask.

After gathering what other supplies you think you'll need you leave Zeropolis. You're not sure where you're going to go though, you do know you'll have to keep moving to avoid suspicion in human towns and given the Combine only just recently won its war against the Cybernetic Evolution, its troops might be on a heightened state of distrust.

However the world is a big place and this is just a small section of it, who's to say mutants are shot on sight everywhere? Hell maybe there's even a place where there isn't killing going on every five seconds. Probably not, but it's worth a try to look for.

With this new goal in mind you begin your trek into the wasteland.


[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] Continue

[Assistant]
Mr. Demar is a powerful wizard and he's already got help, along with the help you sent and also the help that's coming. You need to do something about this time problem.

When you get to the east campus, the demonologist was right, you see a lot of weird things going on, nearby plants are growing older and younger before your eyes, buildings are indeed disappearing and reappearing. It's a mess. You see Catalina watching it all in wonder. She looks at you briefly only to acknowledge your presence and then goes back to watching the changing landscape.

"I see you choose to check on Quayle." You say.
"Yeah, I think he's in that small gray building over there, the only one that seems to be stable. I can't get to him though, well at least I'm not risking it, I sent some of my troops in there and I watched them either accelerate in rot and disintegrate, or even stranger actually turn back into their living selves until they eventually became babies and then nothing. In fact I'm getting out of here as it only seems to be getting worse. This plan sucks." Catalina replies.
"Well someone's gotta go in, so I guess I'll do it. I've risked too much already to fail. I suggest you go help Mr. Demar." you exclaim.
"Wow, this whole thing has really made you really authoritative. You've come a long way since Enchantment class."
"Yeah well I've had a revelation that I'm really good at this necromancy stuff and I won't be denied my career in it before it's truly begun."

You suddenly grab Catalina and kiss her on the lips; she pushes you away and slaps your face.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Just because you're not incompetent at one thing, doesn't automatically mean I'm wet for you!"
"Well let me show you I'm not incompetent in two things then!"
"Ha ha. Maybe later, like next century. Nice try though. But I will go help Mr. Demar seeing as that would be the best course of action for me. Good luck with the time storm there."

As you check out Catalina's ass as she leaves you realize you should be focusing on the task at hand, but it's just you feel so alive for the first time in awhile as ironic as that may seem given the circumstances.

You begin to employ the same strategy that Catalina did, and you get mostly the same results she did, however you currently have a lot more troops than she, so eventually you manage to map out a safe path to the building she thought Quayle was located in.

Apparently she was right, you see him sitting in one of the auditorium class rooms in a lotus like position on the floor in a trance. A strange white field of energy surrounds him.

"You are the future…there is no future…there are many futures…it's all so fascinating…" he says in an echoed voice.
"Hey Quayle, we pretty much won, you can stop doing whatever it is you're doing with time now. It's really starting to mess things up."
"Things have started to get better…they will get worse…they will stay the same, all is relative… how will you proceed…you have decided…"
"Uh, yeah. Look Quayle you NEED to stop what you're doing, the whole fucking city is going to disappear if you don't, and I don't want to know where it might end up. So stop this right now!"

As soon as you give this order, a flash of light appears from above Quayle's head and a bizarre creature with way too many tentacles comes out. Naturally it attacks. You dodge out of the way of its tentacle whip and command what remains of your troops to attack. You don't know why, but you don't feel very well in its presence. You feel like you're about to vomit.

"There are so many things…worse than hell…worse than death…madness…insanity…I must show everyone…I have shown everyone…I have lost…I have won…"

Quayle's either gone completely mad, or he's speaking perfect sense. Probably both, but either way if this one creature is any indication of what he's talking about, you'll have to stop him, but you're having a really hard time concentrating as strange thoughts begin to enter your mind. You see all manner of images from the past and the present…you dare say the future. It's all going so fast though and you're getting dizzy.

[User] You physically tackle him

[Assistant]
The tentacle creature has almost killed all your troops, you're too dizzy to cast a spell, you need to just bum rush this fool.

You run towards the front of the class where he sits and just narrowly dodge another tentacle beast appearing suddenly in front of you.

"…stop…stop it…you must stop…"

You tackle Quayle and something completely unexpected and disgusting happens. His body literally breaks like a fragile glass vase and all manner of insects and maggots come crawling out, mostly on you.

"EEEEYEEECAAAGH!" you yell trying to get them all off of you, completely ignoring anything else. Fortunately for you, whatever you did has stopped the temporal disturbance. The creatures disappear and everything else seems to go back to normal.

After stomping on some centipedes you notice Quayle's head has rolled into a corner. Surprisingly it's still alive.

"Thank you…you are the future…perhaps…" his head says before it just simply disappears.

You shake your own head at all of this. As much as you've seen during your time in the Dark Order, you've never seen anything like this! And you hope never to again. You're still a little shaken. You take a breather while your few remaining troops wander about, but still obediently awaiting your orders.

You can't hear anymore explosions; you wonder if Mr. Demar has won, you hope he has, considering you've been doing a lot for the "cause" so to speak. You exit the building and begin to walk over to the other side of the campus where the explosions were coming from.

You're a little tired, but you feel like you might have to be ready for anything, so you raise more of the dead to protect you for possible battle. It's almost so easy now; you barely need to concentrate even in this fatigued state.

You arrive to burning buildings and ruins of towers. Once again you see Catalina standing outside talking to a demonologist. After they leave, Catalina sees you and once again seems unimpressed by you. You think you're warming up to her.

"Huh, took you long enough. You missed all the major battle while you were playing around with Quayle."
"Playing around? You don't even want to know what I've been through, and I'll wager it wasn't nearly as…disturbing as what you went through."
"Doubt it, by the time I got here Mr. Demar had already lost Felsa, Trelik had betrayed him, and Sebastian was killed. Luckily I was here to provide back up for the final battle with the Dean. We've won, but Mr. Demar is very weak right now, I dunno if he's going to survive his wounds."
"Shit, sounds like I did miss a lot, so is Trelik dead?"
"Nope, the coward ran off when he realized he couldn't beat Mr. Demar."
"Can I see him?"
"Sure I guess, he's in library, or what's left of it."

You enter the library briefly remembering when you came in here to seek more necromantic knowledge. Now you have more than you could've ever imagined. You see Mr. Demar sitting at a table looking through a book while he winces in pain while clutching his stomach. He's bloody, as well as burned. He's a mess.

"(Sigh) This didn't turn out the way I planned at all. Of course those that follow the dark path never seem to get their way. I wonder why. Is it simple arrogance or is it just the cosmos balancing things out?" he says not looking up.
"Mr. Demar, those wounds, you really should…"
"I know what my mistake was, I was thinking too big. I should've concentrated on one dark art. Spread my attention too thin, and this mess was the result. (Cough) Thought I was going to rule it all…"
"Your wounds are…"
"Ah fuck it; I knew what I was getting into when I started along this path. I have no regrets other than trusting Trelik. Treacherous bastard. Heed my words, this path is not one of trust. You are truly alone. No matter how powerful you get, there's always someone seeking to topple you and steal what you have."
"Mr…"

Mr. Demar now addresses you directly.

"Listen to me; this is your last lesson. At least from me, because for what lies ahead of you will be the greatest test of all. You're obviously a powerful necromancer, and you're only going to become more so. You must take advantage of your powers, and do everything you can to survive and crush those who oppose you. If that means war so be it, but if you can achieve this through peace do not be so quick to dismiss it. Chances are this will not be an option for you, but anything is possible. Just never back down. You are a ruler, not a subject. The city is yours if you can hold on to it. The entire world is yours…if you can hold on to it…"

Mr. Demar collapses on the table. Strange that someone so powerful chose to die, since you get the impression his death could've been prevented with some strong healing magic. Did he feel that he failed and death was what he deserved? Was he deep down too cowardly to handle the hardship ahead? Or was he just tired?

You'll never know for certain you suppose. You exit the library, where Catalina meets you.

"So what's going on?" she asks.
"I'm in charge, that's what's going on." You reply.

Catalina looks surprised at the bluntness and simplicity of your answer.

"Well, I suppose we could do worse…so what's next fearless leader?"
"Good question."

[User] You good question indeed. You are about to take your necromantic career to its next level

[Assistant]
Chapter 3: One Foot In The Grave

One year has passed…

It's hard to believe it, but it's been a year since you took control of Nuro…or rather Aftermath as you renamed it.

The "Nuro Incident" as it came to be known was a shock to the civilized world. Nobody had anticipated such a thing occurring despite all preparations. Certainly not to Nuro given it's near "invincible" reputation.

The Grand Alliance was immediately formed to retake the city, but fortunately for you, you weren't the only problem they had.

Velzix, a demon lord who soon left Nuro during its attack, managed to unite the rest of the demons that felt the need to break their contract with the Dark Order turned their attention to the Tulan Kingdom. Right now he's established his own rule, enslaving the population and is most likely planning further conquest assuming he can keep his own troops from fighting each other long enough.

Trelik the "other necromancer" has been rampaging across the countryside in a vain attempt to establish some sort of dominion of his own, but so far without any real allies he's yet to be successful. His actions have still kept the Grand Alliance and other governments busy however.

As for you, you've already managed to hold off one Grand Alliance attack quite successfully due to your preparations. The first thing you did was command all the surviving Dark Order members to become necromancers. Some of them the more die hard demonologists hated this idea, so you gave them the option of taking their chances with Velzix or alone against the Grand Alliance.

After being presented with these two undesirable prospects, they grumbled, but the rest soon fell in line. Catalina was mainly responsible for training them, given that she's the only other "true" necromancer in the city. You're glad of that as it saved you from having to do everything.

Your relationship with Catalina's has improved mainly because you've proven yourself to be a competent leader that has managed to hold on to the city despite the odds. She still acts like she's not interested in you, but you catch an extended glance from her every now and then. Oh yeah she's definitely warming up to you.

You haven't heard anything from your family, you can only wonder what they think of all this and in some ways you don't want to know.

While things are somewhat quiet now, that's not going to last. The Grand Alliance will keep attacking and who knows how long they'll be distracted with Velzix and Trelik? They may very well overwhelm you in time, if the other threats are taken care of. You can't just sit in your throne room and prepare for the next attack; you'll need to be proactive about this threat.

This of course this means conquest. Your standing army is stronger than ever right now and your powers in necromancy have grown considerably with the last year. You're confident that you could probably take over a small kingdom. Gaining more territory that your enemy can't use is usually a good way of making things harder for them.

[User] The path of conquest calls

[Assistant]
Ah the time honored the tradition of all true rulers…

"Catalina, I think it's time we expand." You say walking into her study.
"Oh you do, do you? Well, there's no shortage of places. Got somewhere in particular in mind?"
"A few places, but this is sort of why I'm talking to you, I figure it'll be good to have your input."
"Wow, laying it on thick today aren't we?"
"Yeah…do you like it?"
"Maybe." She says with a faint smile.
"Good, but seriously I'm thinking we should attack the Brot Kingdom. It's close, and its military is weak."
"Normally I'd agree, but I think you're forgetting that our former classmate Trelik has currently established a presence there."
"Yeah, I was thinking we could get rid of him at the same time."
"Easier said than done I hope you realize. I know he's a treacherous asshole that's been run ragged by the Grand Alliance, but that doesn't mean he's any less formidable. Not to mention we'll still have the Brot military to handle and hopefully the Grand Alliance doesn't show up in the area. Speaking of which, Trelik's pitiful endeavors have been keeping them busy. Get rid of him and they'll pay more attention to us."
"Alright then, where do you think we should attack?"
"Here."

Catalina points to a rather barren area known as the Drozz Wasteland which contains barbaric orc tribes, though ogres, goblins and similar "uncivilized" races dwell there as well.

"What the hell are we supposed to do with that?"
"Do you realize how many soldiers we can get in that area? The tribes in there are disorganized and unlikely to give us a meaningful fight. We can suffer minimal losses and gain more than what we started out with. Then we can use those gains against more formidable foes!"
"Cat baby, THAT is not going to be easy. First of all I know something of orcs and the green bastards don't know when to fucking quit most of the time. Even with the fear of an undead army, I guarantee they'll still fight. Same thing with the ogres, trolls, minotaurs and GIANTS that live in that area! Giants, Catalina. Fucking giants. Not to mention those tribes have the full advantage of the knowledge of the terrain."
"What difference does that make? It's not like our army needs to eat or even sleep! Those tribes are fighting each other most of the time too. By the time we've slaughtered half of those mongrel tribes, it's still unlikely that the rest will unite against us in any meaningful way. You said giants live there and perhaps that will be a challenge, but think about it, we could RAISE those same giants to use against our enemies in the future!"

While the idea of raising undead giants is appealing, you still have reservations about attacking the area.

You have a big decision to make.

[User] You attack the Brot Kingdom

[Assistant]
As much as raising undead colossuses would be cool, you decide that taking over the Brot Kingdom will be easier and you'll be able to take out Trelik at the same time.

"I think I'll go with my plan of attacking the Brot Kingdom."
"You just want to be all macho and kill Trelik."
"Maybe…does it turn you on?"
"Ha ha. Perhaps if you're successful. Are you going to do this personally?"
"Of course, I don't think any of the other necromancers can take on Trelik by themselves, and I'd rather have you here looking after things."
"Really? You're trusting me to run Aftermath?"
"Yeah, now I want you to keep a good run of things here, and if the Grand Alliance attacks I want to know immediately, so I can get here!"
"Okay, but I doubt if that'll happen. I'd be more concerned with them attacking you when you're at the Brot Kingdom."
"I'll be fine, okay I'm off."
"Good luck!" she says and quickly kisses you on the cheek before you leave. You stare at her for a moment in shock and she stares back.

"What?" she asks as if nothing happened.
"Nothing, but we'll discuss THAT later when I return." You say.
"Maybe. If you're good and return victorious."
"I don't think I'll be good, but I will be returning victorious."

You decide to take a couple of extra necromancers with you for support as you march your undead horde towards the Brot Kingdom. By the time you get there you can see the destruction that Trelik has wrought. It's obvious where he's been. Some corpses linger around the razed towns he's obviously been through, but you immediately bring them under your control. It's apparent that Trelik hasn't focused on fortifying his holdings too much and he probably wasn't expecting you to arrive at all.

Given his weakened state, you wonder if you should bother attacking Trelik immediately. Perhaps you should take out the remaining Brot military just to get them out of the way first seeing as they might be more of a threat.

[User] You attack Trelik

[Assistant]
Your thirst to get rid of one of your rivals overcomes you and he is closer, so you continue your march towards where he's located, it doesn't take long as you just follow the heavier population of undead wandering around. You continue to easily take control of his unsupervised troops.

At last you reach the heart of his domain, where you are less able to take control of his undead and you're forced to destroy them. You catch sight of each other during the battle.

"You! You're the cause of my current problems! It should've been me to take Nuro! That's all gonna change today though! You were a fool to come here, you should've stayed behind your safe walls!"

While Trelik is ranting at you, you choose to take a more active approach and blast him with a beam of negative energy. He falls and temporarily loses control of his undead. You take advantage of it and enforce your own will over them. Trelik's position isn't good considering he's surrounded.

"NO! Don't follow him, follow me! You're supposed to follow me! NOOOOO!" are his last words before he's butchered by his once obedient corpses.

"All too easy, now let's finish off the Brot military and take over this place completely." You remark.

Taking Trelik's remaining army you march upon the heart of the Brot Kingdom. The place is better defended than you thought, but your numbers are overwhelming and you don't have to worry about Trelik being at your back. You conquer the Brot Kingdom within a period of a few days. A Grand Alliance army attempts to retake your conquests within the week, but you've fortified your position by then and successfully defeat them.

You leave a few of your most competent necromancers in charge and return to Aftermath in triumph. Catalina meets you.

"So, what's the update?"
"I killed Trelik, I conquered the Brot Kingdom, then I kicked the Grand Alliance's asses." You say putting your arm around her. She's not resisting anymore.
"Hmm, sounds like you were very victorious. So now what?"
"Now what? You and me in the bedroom, that's what!"

You and Catalina at last end this little dance and consummate your relationship.

And just think all it took was destruction and killing on a grand scale!

Four years pass…

It's been five years since you took control of Aftermath and you've made progress. Though not much. Many changes have certainly have come about.

Your territory now encompasses a little more than just Aftermath, but besides the former Brot Kingdom, your other holdings are minor towns that dot the landscape. You call your region the Dead Dominion. The population consists mainly of the dead, with necromancers typically being the only living beings, though there are pockets of living that have pledged their loyalty to you in exchange for mercy. You have granted it. You and Catalina are now truly King and Queen of the dead.

Velzix has benefited a little from your success; he's managed to hold on to his own realm, but has failed to expand. While he's stilling having problems of his own, rumors are that he's attempting to rip open a portal of the largest size to unleash all of the horrors the infernal plane has to offer.

The Grand Alliance is attempting to handle the pair of you, but has only succeeded in fighting to a stalemate. Rumors are the Zalan Empire is attempting to take full control over the Grand Alliance in order to pursue a more extreme course of action.

You have not heard anything from you family. You know your Dad's mercenary company has been fighting in the outskirts of Velzix's realm. Your sister has become a respected and successful Grand Alliance captain. She's managed to hold back the tide of your dead horde from gaining anymore ground for a couple years now. As for your Mom, who knows? You'd prefer not to know what she thinks of you.

You aren't making anymore progress. You've expanded as much as you're able without making yourself vulnerable. You know you're going to have to do something soon, but allying with Velzix isn't an option. Making peace with the Grand Alliance isn't either.

The Vampire Clans have unsuccessfully sent assassins after you, but they have all failed. However one night you are visited by another vampire who you almost kill before he begs and insists that he has a message for you from the Clans. He states that they are willing to talk to you. He says he can take you to their secret fortress. That is the only area where Lord Rostov will agree for any types of negotiations to take place.

At this point you're open to the possibility of peace talks if it'll reduce the number of enemies you have, though Catalina is wary of this.

[User] You kill the messenger

[Assistant]
Catalina's right, you can't take the chance of trusting these bloodsucking bastards. If they get you in their fortress, that's going to be it for you.

"I regret to inform you, but your trip here has been wasted and so has you existence." You say as Catalina sets him ablaze with a fireball and you cause his heart to explode.

"Wow, that was oddly familiar." You reply and then order the remains to be cleaned up before going about your business again.

Indeed it was very familiar since you were witness to Mr. Demar and Felsa doing a similar thing to delegate Yolev five years ago. And much like those two, you've set yourself on a course that will end badly like it did for them.

Five years pass…

It's been ten years since you took control of Aftermath and now it looks like that's all finally coming to an end.

Velzix never quite managed to succeed in his plan to open up the portal, and was struck down by your Dad's mercenary company of all things. Your Dad died during the battle and he was declared a hero who sacrificed all in the cause of good. A statue of him now stands in the Zalan Empire's capital. Funny how mad men can be made into heroes so easily

With no other enemies the Grand Alliance turns its full attention to you and they're relentless with your sister leading them. She manages to take back everything you ever conquered until at last she's at the gates of Aftermath itself.

You defend her attacks many times and you only grow weaker each passing day. However, it is not your sister that kills you. It is by another group of vampire assassins who once again slip in under the cover of night.

You're no longer able to fight them effectively due to all the energy you've been expending fighting your sister's army outside. Catalina is dispatched first when she attempts help you, when you see her fall; you gain a surge of adrenaline and manage to kill one of the assassins. You wound another severely, but ultimately they strike you down and only a bloody mess is left for your sister to find when she finally breaks down the gates of Aftermath.