A New World

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You try to recover with flattery. "But your presence is like the comfortable cool of night, causing me to forget the day I left behind." She turns to you, blushing slightly. "That's a bit much don't you think. I know the nature of your work here. We are to discuss terms for peace, are we not?" "I admire your efficiency," you say, relieved she has moved on from your obvious mistake. "I dislike when meetings like this are prolonged, and parties dance around topics they are too afraid to touch on." She nods in agreement. "Yes, I can imagine your line of work can be exhausting," she muses. "If that is the case, I will present the reasons I belive war is the answer, and you can rebute me when I am finished?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["How about a drink first?"]] [["Very well. I shall listen with intent"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You kindly offer the man a drink. "Well most folks introduce themselves first, but I like your style," he speaks in a gruff voice. "I'll have to decline as I've had too much as it is, but is there anything I can do for ya?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm looking for the Governor"]] [["I want to know about the city"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[Your voice echoes loudly against the walls, and your head feels like its splitting in two from the sudden noise. You stagger with pain, bracing yourself against the wall to break your fall. On your knees now, the world spins and your vision fades in and out. There is no response from the grate. You stay there for a long while, your head swimming in the dark. Eventually you fade from conciousness and you dream of conversations with innkeeperr and presidents.] [[Hours later]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["Caranor is run for it's citizens. The Church provides much aid using stipends from the High Prince's pocket and issued by the Governor of Corral. The system is not so much a tyranny as you think. They care greatly for the people. I spoke to an old, struggling alcoholic who explained the system to me. He receives help from the Church as often as he needs it." The President raises a hand to silence you. You pause, looking for a reaction, but her face is unreadable. You manage to catch a glimpse of the corner of her mouth ever so slightly twitching downward as she asks, "An old alcoholic you say?" "Yes," you respond anxiously. Her tone feels slightly mocking. "He was simply an older man with a strong love for the Goesin Church." "The Goesin Church," she echoes your statement, almost chewing the words in her mouth but scowling as if they have a foul taste. "It is no aid they are recieving. Long has the Church been used to control people." "'Caring', " she scoffs. "They would sacrifice this old man you speak of if it meant they could have another hand in the Prince's pockets. I thought you'd bring something of more substance than to talk to me about a drunk and his priest friends. We are done mocking formality. I have much planning to do. You are dismissed." The last word bites the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly discharged.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Farewell, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I mean no offense when I say you are completely misunderstanding Caranor. I can attest to their care for their people. During my brief stay, I spoke to two farmers visiting Corral for an appointment with the city council. They were hoping to gain military aid after goblin raids had wiped out much of their livestock. They told me this wasn't the first time the military had been dispatched to help their small town either. They were optimistic about recieving aid. Suppressed people would not be optimistic to meet with a city council. This experience also leads me to believe Caranor has a rather expanisve military. Otherwise they wouldn't be able to expend troops to a small farming village." The President raises a hand to silence you. You pause, looking for a reaction, but her face is unreadable. You manage to catch a glimpse of her eyebrow raising ever so slightly as she asks, "They'd had help before you say?" "Yes," you respond with ease. You feel a slight boost of confidence from her arched brow. "20 men strong. A full nights guard watched the town for a week. A town called Malp. I'd never heard of it till I met those men, if that gives you an inkling of the small size. More of a village really." "20 men," she echoes your statement. "Their military does sound more expanisive than I thought. It seems I have underestimated them severely. Perhaps it is a blessing they sent you here. I have a lot of thinking to do. Alone." The last word hangs in the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly dismissed.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Good day, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I mean no offense when I say you are completely misunderstanding Caranor. I can attest to the well-being of the people. It does not concern the Prince! During my brief stay, I spoke to a widow, grieving the recent loss of her husband at the bar of the inn I bedded in. The people are not suppressed by the government, but rather beaten down by the humanity of life. That is something no one can escape, and no war can fix." The President raises a hand to silence you. You pause, looking for a reaction, but her face is unreadable. You manage to catch a glimpse of the corner of her mouth ever so slightly twitching downward as she asks, "The humanity of life you say?" "Yes," you respond anxiously. Her tone feels slightly mocking. "I don't see how tossing these struggling people into a major conflict will help anyone." "Struggling people," she echoes your statement. "It would be a swift victory. Even if what you're saying is true, I would rather deal with life's struggles as a free person, rather than under a Prince's boot. I have a lot of thinking to do. Alone." The last word bites the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly dismissed.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Farewell, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.8))[You take your leave, and follow the rooster looking butler back to the gate. You feel numb. That didn't go as well as you'd hoped, but there's always hope. You take the rooster man's suggestion for an Inn and after a hot meal you decide to head to your quarters early. //It'll be nice to sleep this feeling off//, you imagine.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[The Next Day]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["We could ask the same to you," said the shortest one, clearly a halfling. "You came up to us after all." "I didn't mean to stir the pot little one." You bite your tongue as you say the words but it is too late. You see his dark green eyes turn fierce as he stands up on his chair. "I am no littler than what people think of me, and they think highly." He says venomously. "I wouldn't expect a wealthy posh like you to understand." You are suddenly pointedly aware of your richly died shirt. His friends eye you up and down with dark looks.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I do apologize..."]] [["Oh grow up"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Thank you sir. Looks like not all you well dressed folk are so snobby after all. Gives me hope." He reaches out and shakes your hand. The younger man smiles and tips his head. You give an easy smile in return, and face back to the room, leaving them to their business.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She chuckles casually. "You're a funny one. It's hardly the afternoon. Feeling nervous?" You can still feel the warmth from the high sun on your back. You kick yourself for being so stupid. Sweat beads perspirate down your spine.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["My mistake..."]] [["But your presence is like the comfortable cool of night..."]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You are unsurprised by the president's gender, and kindly introduce yourself. "Good afternoon Madam President." "Good afternoon." Her resonant voice demands attention but is pleasant on the ear as well. //A seasoned politician's voice.// "I expected you'd come later, but it is no matter. You caught me on a rare day when I have free time." She chuckles. "My apologies to intrude on personal time," you respond, "I hope you take no offense." "No apology necessary, I'd rather be done with this meeting anyway. What is your purpose here?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm here to stop the war"]] [["I was told you are considering of war with Caranor"]]]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.8))[You take your leave of the President and her estate, and begin preparations to return to Corral. You have no meetings lined up for quite some time, so you think it will be best to collect your payment from the Governor and maybe spend a week or two enjoying Caranor. You pay for a caravan back to Corral and bounce along the road for 7 days. You talk to the innkeeper from the first inn you stayed at. //That feels like so long ago//, you think, despite the fact that it was only earlier this month. He gives you a few taverns and breweries to check for the Governor.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Go find him]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She turns to you, smirking slightly. "That's a bit much don't you think. It's a pleasure to meet you. I know the nature of your work here. We are to discuss terms for peace, are we not?" "I admire your efficiency," you say. "I dislike when meetings like this are prolonged, and parties dance around topics they are too afraid to touch on." She nods in agreement. "Yes, I can imagine your line of work can be exhausting," she muses. "If that is the case, I will present the reasons I belive war is the answer, and you can rebute me when I am finished?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["How about a drink first?"]] [["Very well. I shall listen with intent"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[Before you can even finish your sentence or display your papers, the guards begin opening the gate. They nod at you but say nothing. Feeling acknowledged, you step through, eyeing the guards awkwardly as you pass by. It feels oddly unofficial, //but this is a different part of the world anyhow//. You walk up a finely stoned walkway towards the manor, and stand in front of a large wooden door painted a somewhat sinister red. The sun shines high in the sky, warming your back. Taking a deep breath, you settle your nerves and raise your hand to the wood.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give the door a single, hard knock]] [[Give the door two solid knocks]] [[Knock the door three times, as your mother taught you]] [[Knock until your knuckles bleed]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_613b7d514d9c41a899172130852ee9d8.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You confidently walk to the table, setting your official papers down. "Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?" She stares at you, seemingly astounded. You repeat what you just said in your mind, but can't figure out what part of that could have been offensive. With a scoff she replies, "Is that supposed to be a joke?" There is a strong resonance in her voice. It demands attention, but not because she is being loud, or venomously quite. Her voice is smooth, pleasant, and impossible to ignore. It is the voice of a seasoned politician. You suddenly realize the near ass you've made of yourself. Taking her kindly gifted route to recover the conversation, you reply. "Of course, Madam President. I thought we should start our discussion with humor to ease the tension." "He's a jester Madam!" The portly man huffs from behind you. "I will leave you to your business." "Thank you Linder," the President smiles as the little man closes the door behind him. "Let us begin, shall we?" You feel this question is not really a question. "Of course."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm here to stop the war"]] [["I was told you are considering of war with Caranor"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Damn right." He says, raising a hand to his eyes and squinting at you despite the fact the room was in no way dark, nor too bright. "Do I know you?" You give a casual laugh. "Not yet."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Can I buy you a drink?"]] [["I'm looking for the Governor"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Yes sir," a boy with sandy hair responds, "how'd you guess that?" "Well you all have a youthful look about you," you reply, smiling charmingly. "I remember those days." "Give yourself some credit sir," the short one spoke up, "You can't be a day over 25!" Now that you're up close you realize the odd bunch you're speaking too. One of the taller boys has a dark complexion, but mixed in with his skin is tree bark? The short one is clearly a halfling, barely 3 1/2 feet tall. The sandy haired boy seems human enough, but the friend to his side has the unmistakable ears of an elf. "I couldn't help but hear your conversation was quiet, which surprised me. I remember my young days in inns and bars making quite a rucus." You chuckle to yourself. "Well Baeden here is having trouble back home," the halfling explained. "He thinks he may have to drop University next term. Thus was the tone of our conversation."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["What kind of trouble?"]] [["I'm sorry to hear that."]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))["Really?" He says, his eyebrow arching. "How about a thank you for rescuing me? We have no time, come with me." You hesitate, and he turns to you quickly, grabbing your arms and hauling you forward. He has a guard's grip. You are about to protest when your head swims and you feel suddenly nauseous. He pulls you easily.] (bg:black)[ [["Where are we going?"]] [["Why are you doing this"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[Your voice echoes loudly against the walls, and your head feels like its splitting in two from the sudden noise. You stagger with pain, bracing yourself against the wall to break your fall. On your knees now, the world spins and your vision fades in and out. There is no response from the grate. You stay there for a long while, your head swimming in the dark. Eventually you fade from conciousness and you dream of debates with presidents and dark forests.] [[Hours later]]

(set: $PEOPLEARG to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[Even though you're right in front of them, the younger man Bill turns to his partner and speaks in a low tone you can still hear. "By the looks of him, he could probably help us." The older man glares at Bill and looks up to you. "Sorry for him, no manners on this boy. We came into town from Malp. The roads north are in no good shape, and our town is suffering from goblin raids. Can't keep ther sticky hands off the livestock. We started a night watch, but lost a good man the first night. Found 'im in the mornin with his throat slit." His dark tone turned into a mock official accent. "We came to visit the 'Caranorian Judicial Council'," he sighs, "They've helped us before, but its never been this bad." "Sounds like Caranor takes care of its people," you say, "I'm sorry for your towns suffering." "Ahhh," he waves his right hand in a dismissive gesture, "T'aint nothin Malp can't get through with some help. Last time we got a full knights guard for a week. 20 soldiers in all. Scared the goblins to hell. We didn't have problems for a good while af'er that."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Glad to hear you'll get some help"]] [["Would you happen to know where I'd find the Governor in town today?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["It wasn't really a question," she says cooly. "Now, where to begin. To be quite frank, my most recent visit to Caranor is what pushed me to this breaking point. The country seems sad. The few people I did see were quiet, and I believe they are being suppressed. A principality is just a pretty way of saying tyranny. The population of Inglatia grows every day as citizens move here from every corner of the world. We are due for expansion, and it feels like my moral obligation to save the citizens of Caranor from their own government."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Its hard to judge a country from one visit..." (interject)]] [[Don't interupt]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["It wasn't really a question," she says cooly, eyeing you up and down. "Is it typical to offer someone a drink before you've had a proper debate? I would expect it after, sure, but I still need my wits about me. You're a curious one..." She trails off, searching you for answers. You can't think of anything to say, and try feebly to look innocent. Her eyes glimmer maniacally as she whispers, "If I didn't know any better, I'd guess you were trying to poison me." You freeze.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["No!"]] [[Tell her everything]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["We are the ''Myraes''. We do not speak unless we know, and we do not know unless we witness." It sounds like a mantra as he recites it. "We are known by the Governor as a "crime syndicate", but we do no crime. We operate for the betterment of society. We are a secret society of members who have sworn to serve a greater cause. We watch over Ethal, and influence things when we must. Now is a time when we must. President Axton has grown too reckless. Our attempts to replace her through elections have failed, for she is a strong spokesperson, and has won the heart of her nation. We have no other choice. Will you help us eliminate this threat from our world?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["What? I am no killer!"]] [["What must I do?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I think it would interest you to know of corruption within your city guard. I witnessed a guard beating a young child and taking a coin off his unconcious body. If you cannot keep guards in check less than a mile from your estate, I can't imagine how you'll manage a conflict a hundred miles West." The President raises a hand to silence you. She asks, "What did you see?" "A city guard," you clarify with ease. You feel a slight boost of confidence from her concerned look. "He had a young boy trapped in a dead end alleyway not more than 5 blocks from here. He was scolding him about something, then clopped him in the temple and took a coin from his crumpled body." "A city guard," she echoes your statement. "I suspected the new guard recruitment and training methods were not thorough enough." She sighs heavily, "but I had no idea it was this bad. Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Perhaps it is a blessing they sent you here. I have a lot of thinking to do. Alone." The last word hangs in the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly dismissed.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Good day, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Well take folk like me for example. They support us through the Church mostly. The Goesin priests are generous with there stipends from the Prince. They provide food always, clothes sometimes, and a roof when we really need it. I'd take you to 'em right now, but they just started midday worship." "That's good to hear," you respond. "It can be so easy for religion to get questionable with money." The man nods in solemn agreement. "I hope to see you around. It's always a pleasure meeting new folk. May Goeses feel your presence."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Thank you, good day to you sir"]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[The man sighs deeply. He looks weary. He shakes his head solemnly as he speaks. "Very well. It shall be a bloodbath." He makes a gesture with his hand, and one of the men stands up, revealing a large wooden cudgel from his belt. Before you can do anything, he brings it down hard on the top of your head. The world goes black.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Awaken]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["I do apologize for what it is worth," you say as you back away slowly. "I hope you have a good rest of your time." You turn away quickly. //Better to leave that fire before getting burned,// you think.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[His little trope about keeping tabs on people reminds you of the interesting cast in the inn today. You glance around the room, wondering who else would make the best conversation.] (bg:black)[ (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]] [[Nevermind, you want to continue your conversation with the Innkeeper]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[He pauses, scratching his chin before answering. "Well its a fine city, hard to keep a description short. Caranor's a country that takes care of its cities, and Corral's a city that takes care of its people, and thats just about exactly how it should be I'd say." You nod thoughtfully. The man clearly has a love for his city.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["How do they take care of people?"]] [["I'm looking for the Governor"]] ]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She gives a wry smile. "So bold. And I suppose you are here to stop me. Well let us debate." Her smile sharpens and she looks intensely at you. "I love a good discussion. I'll present my argument first, and I suppose you'll have to tell me why I'm wrong. How does that sound?" You sense this is a somewhat rhetorical question. //Time do do what I do best//, you think.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Very well..."]] [["How about I present first?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Not so hasty!" The Governor hands you an envelope. "This will be your official writ of business from me, which will gain you audience with the President. I'll show you where you'll meet in the morning to depart, and introduce you to the guards of your wagon caravan..." You go through the motions with the Governor and make all the necessary preparations for tomorrow. Returning to the Inn, you have a drink alone before retiring to your room. You fall asleep, dreaming of horses, fields of grain, and grey slate buildings.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Wake up for Travel]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I'll explain the people of Caranor do not struggle because they are ruled by a prince, nor do they struggle because of the government. They deal with the daily struggles of humanity that exist in every corner of the world. That is something no war will aid. I met a woman at the inn I am staying. She was recently widowed I think. That's what started that thought." The Governors smile slackens slightly, seemingly unimpressed. "Well, I'm not sure what I'd say to that if I were the President. There's not a lot of substance there. No matter! It is your profession, not mine!" You shrug off his lack of praise, but start to think through what you will say when the time comes. //Not a lot of substance there//, his words echo in your mind.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'll be off then!"]] [["Where do I begin?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I'll question how the President expects to fight a war on top of the troubles inside Inglatia's borders. I spoke with some students at the inn I'm in for the night. One of them has family in Shanea, and does a lot of trade with an Inglatian town called Conch. He said his family hadn't heard from Conch in three weeks. Rumors are goblins came down from the North and wiped out the town. How can the President think to defeat Caranor when he cannot protect Inglatian people within their own borders?" The Governor's smile brightens. "Why thats a fine point there. All true! That would make me think twice before a fight. You're going to do fine over there!"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'll be off then!"]] [["Where do I begin?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I'll tell of the strength and goodness of the Caranorian military. I spoke to some farmers who are requesting military aid after some goblin raids in their town up North. It sounded like they've had good help before, and are expecting it again. That leads me to believe Caranor has a strong and expendable force." The Governor's smile brightens. "Why thats a fine point there. All true! That would make me think twice before a fight. You're going to do fine in my stead." You nod, thankful for his praise.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'll be off then!"]] [["Where do I begin?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I'll tell of the strong alliance between the Prince, the Church, and you. It seems the way you all coordinate resources is always for the benefit of the people. I spoke with a older drunk fellow who's been living here a long time. He told me how kind the Church is to struggling people like him. A country that takes care of its people with the Church is not deserving of attack." The Governor nods slowly. "I like that, but I like that because I like that. Prince Dorn warned me not to bring up the Church were I to meet with the President. He said something about a bad upbringing under the Goesin Church, and left it at that." You tilt your head, processing the information before replying. "Thats good to know, thank you for the warning."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'll be off then!"]] [["Where do I begin?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[You head back to the carts to grab some potatoes, meats, and other essentials you look forward to cooking. As you gather the supplies, you catch a glimpse of flickering light from the corner of your eye. It is coming from the woods on the other side of the road.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Go to the light]] [[Return to camp and ignore it]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[You head deeper into the woods to look for dry kindling. As your arms fill with sticks and short logs, you catch a glimpse of flickering light out of the corner of your eye. //They couldn't have started the fire already// you think. Upon closer investigation, you realize the light is coming from the opposite direction of your camp.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Go to the light]] [[Return to camp and ignore it]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She gives a wry smile. "So bold. I suppose you are here for that purpose. Well let us debate." Her smile sharpens and she looks intensely at you. "I love a good discussion. I'll present my argument first, and I suppose you'll have to tell me why I'm wrong. How does that sound?" You sense this is a somewhat rhetorical question. //Time do do what I do best//, you think.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Very well..."]] [["How about I present first?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Well he's a fine man. Takes his job seriously and really cares about the city, unlike some of those pricks up north in Stok. The classes here don't look down on eachother. We're all Carranorian after all. The governments not corrupt, and the High Prince helps keep it in check. The Church is not corrupt either. The Governor, Prince, and Church leaders all work together for the benefit of all of us." "Would you happen to know where I'd find the Governor," you clarify your previous question. "I know a lot about the city, but I don't keep tabs of that kind. He could be a lot of places." You nod and reply,] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Thank you, good day to you sir"]] [["How do they take care of people?"]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[Sandy haired Baeden spoke quitely, "It'll all pass eventually. I'm just not sure I'm ready to go home so soon. I've really made a life here, you know?" "I understand. I'll leave you to your drinks and good company then. Remember your friends tonight and forget the rest till tomorrow!" You give him a pat on the shoulder as you speak. //I should leave them to their friendship,// you think as you turn back to the room.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She opens her mouth to continue, but you quickly interject. "Its hard to judge a country from one visit," your voice begins to falter under her harsh gaze and you finish lamely. "It could've been a rainy day." She glares at you, altogether ignoring your interruption. "As I was saying, for me, it is a win-win situation. Inglatia gets a needed expansion, and we free the people of Caranor. Not to mention seizing the economy of Caranor, bringing more wealth to the greatest democracy in this world. That is where my thoughts reside. Saying it out loud only greatens the appeal." She nods confidently to herself and turns to face you. "Well? Why shouldn't I crush the tyranny?" Your mind races with a thousand reasons why war is bad, but you stick to the script. You think back to the Governor asking you what you were going to say. The floor is yours.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ (if: $PEOPLEARG is true)[["Caranor's people are good, and well taken care of..."]] (if: $RELIGIONARG is true)[["Caranor is run for it's citizens. The Church provides..."]] (if: $STRUGGLEARG is true)[["Caranor's people do not struggle because of the High Prince..."]] (if: $GOBLINARG is true)[["You talk about a war across borders when the conflicts within Inglatia go unchecked..."]] (if: $CORRUPTARG is true)[["How can you expect to manage a war far away when there is corruption on the streets outside your estate..."]] [[Your thoughts betray you, and you cannot think of a proper argument]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You had fully expected a male president of Inglatia. "Madam President?" You question with a hard emphasis on the 'Madam'. Realizing how you sounded saying that, you quickly follow up. "Sorry, I had just assumed you were a man. Silly of me really." "Yes, quite silly of you," she responds lightly, but you can hear the subtle reproach in her tone. "I expected you'd come later, but it is no matter. You caught me on a rare day when I have free time." She chuckles. "My apologies to intrude on personal time," you respond, "I hope you take no offense." "No more than I have already taken." She replies. You kick yourself for starting off on a bad foot. "Lets get on with it then, shall we?" You feel this question is not really a question. "Of course."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm here to stop the war"]] [["I was told you are considering of war with Caranor"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["My mistake, I don't know what came over me." You say, your voice quivering slightly. "Are you alright, you look awfully pale," she says as she strides toward you. "Is there anything in your bag that could help?" There is an odd inflection in her voice. She looks at you with an odd expression. Pity? You feel a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Her eyes tell you everything you need to know as she speaks, "A professional diplomat. Confident. Competent. A shining career of experience. Broken down by a simple meeting? I'm guessing you've never killed anyone before." She says it so plainly. It is not a question. She begins reaching for your bag.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["No!"]] [[Tell her everything]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You lie. A smile touches the corner of the man's mouth. "Then you know too much." He makes a gesture with his hand as he says the words. One of the men stands up, revealing a large wooden cudgel from his belt. Before you can do anything, he brings it down hard on the top of your head. The world goes black.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Awaken]]]

You yell loudly in protest, as if it really mattered. She is already in your bag, rummaging. She pulls out the bottle of wine. She pulls out (if: $ANTIDOTE is false)[a vile of dark liquid, the antidote.] (if: $ANTIDOTE is true)[the empty antidote vile.] (if: $ANTIDOTE is false)[She turns to you with a menacing grin. "This must be something important," she says. You stare at the vial, still full of the dark liquid. You should've drank that hours ago. "Is this their antidote? Were you supposed to drink this?" Her tone is mocking. Sickening. She continues, "Or is this the poison itself? Were you supposed to slip this in as you poured me a glass of your //Tareltown wine?//" She practically spits the last words, casually tossing the vial to the side. It shatters on the hard stone floor. "Pour yourself a glass," she commands, "and drink your vintage wine." [[Pour yourself a glass]] [[Refuse]] ] (if: $ANTIDOTE is true)[She turns to you, holding up the empty vial. "I'm guessing this was your precious antidote. You must've emptied this just before coming here." She turns and flings the vial at a part of the wall that is pure stone. It shatters in an explosion of tiny shards glinting in the window's sunlight. "Very well," she pauses."Linder!" The little butler opens the door in a split second. You can't help but wonder if he'd been listening this whole time. He is accompanied by two guards decorated in gleaming armor. //These are no casual street guards//, you think. "Linder, could you please escort our friend here to the jail. Not the local jail mind you. My own private cell. I'd like to visit him as he rots for his treachery." The little man nods. "Of course, Madam President." [[Go with the men and Linder]] [[Refuse to leave]] ]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You pull out the bottle of vintage wine as you continue, "This bottle is nearly three centuries old, aged from the Tareltown vinyards in southern Caranor. I only bring the finest drinks for the finest politicians. Would you mind sharing a glass with me before I share my rebuttle with you?" You hope you look as confident as you sounded. In truth, you have never offered drinks in any of your debates. Ever. This is so uncharacteristic of you that it makes you want to laugh. Still, you smile warmly and set the bottle down on the dark wooden table. "Well you are full of surprises," the President says as she opens a small cabinet and brings out two small glasses. "I suppose I could share some sips of a wine such as this." She sets the glasses down while you unscrew the cork. The bottle gives a satisfying pop as you pull the cork free.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Pour the glasses]] [[Ask if she thinks the butler would want to share]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[The Innkeeper chuckles, "Sounds important. I don't doubt he'd meet you at the Pouring Prince. Real nice bar just three blocks from here. Huge fountain out front, you can't miss it." "Thanks for your help! You clearly know your business." You watch as he taps his nose knowingly before turning back to polishing bottles. You walk to the door and step out onto the cobbled street. Sun beams warm your face as you look down the bustling avenue.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]] [[Go to the Pouring Prince to meet the Governor]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Oh grow up. I meant no offense by it," you try to say casually, but as one of his friends stands up you can't help but back away. You realize now what an assortment this friendgroup is. One of the taller boys has a dark complexion, but mixed in with his skin is tree bark? The short one is barely 3 1/2 feet tall. The sandy haired boy seems human enough, but the friend to his side has the unmistakable ears of an elf. It is the tall boy with bark for skin that is putting your nerves on edge. You are amazed to realize he is likely near 7 feet tall. He looms over you menacingly. //I didn't mean literally grow up//, you almost say. //It would probably be best to leave now//, you think. With a nod, you quickly turn back to the room. The glare of their eyes digs into your back.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(set: $ASSASSIN to true) (set: $ANTIDOTE to false) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[The man smiles, gesturing to Alik. Alik walks over and hands you a letter. It has the Governer's stamp on the front. "This is your writ of business from the Governor," he explains. "I knicked it off him after your little meeting. It'll get you audience with the President when you arrive." You nod, and the man with dark hair speaks up. "You will leave tomorrow, on the same caravan you would have left on had you accepted the Governor's work. We've taken care of the diplomat you were replaced with. They will be expecting you. The President will also be expecting you. When you will meet, you will offer her a fine drink as a gift." He pulls out a bottle that appears to be some kind of aged wine. "This bottle is infused with poison, but it is real three century vintage wine from the Tareltown vinyards in southern Caranor. Pity we chose to use it really." "And the antidote?" You ask. "Of course," he says, pulling a small vile from his front pocket. "You must drink this within fifteen hours of when you plan to drink the wine. Don't forget it, or you might die." He smiles, "You leave at first light."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[The Morning]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[Before you can even finish your sentence or display your papers, the guards begin opening the gate. They nod at you but say nothing. Feeling acknowledged, you step through, eyeing the guards awkwardly as you pass by. It feels oddly unofficial, //but this is a different part of the world anyhow//. You walk up a finely stoned walkway towards the manor, and stand in front of a large wooden door painted a somewhat sinister red. The sun shines high in the sky, warming your back. Taking a deep breath, you settle your nerves and raise your hand to the wood.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give the door four distinct knocks]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_613b7d514d9c41a899172130852ee9d8.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))["You don't know what you're talking about." The guard speaks to you slowly with a hint of warning in his voice, ""This little runt was chased from his hole by some of his peers. Ran a little too far and winded up on the wrong side of the city. I was just collecting my payment for scaring his friends off. They likely would've done worse to him than I did." He responds to you as he begins walking towards you and the opening of the alley. "He won't come back here if there's any sense in that little head." "If there's any sense left. That was quite a blow you gave him." You say cooly. "Nothing less than he deserved." The guard matches your tone. A tension settles in the air between you. It breaks as he brushes past you and into the street. "Good day to you." He hisses.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Continue to the President's Estate]] [[Try to talk to the boy]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You choose to walk away and leave her to her private grieving.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(set: $RELIGIONARG to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You politely exit. Well that was surprisingly informative, you think to yourself as you turn back to the room.] (bg:black)[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[She looks up at you as you say it, and she smiles. "You know, I think he would. Thank you. Have a blessed evening, and may Goesis feel your presence." You smile at the familiarity of this religious farewell so often heard in Caranor.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[The Innkeeper chuckles, "Well you're either the most important guest I've catered to or you're full of humorous horseshit. In either case, I don't doubt he'd meet you at the Pouring Prince. Real nice bar just three blocks from here. Huge fountain out front, you can't miss it." "Thanks for your help! You clearly know your business." You watch as he taps his nose knowingly before turning back to polishing bottles. You walk to the door and step out onto the cobbled street. Sun beams warm your face as you look down the bustling avenue.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]] [[Go to the Pouring Prince to meet the Governor]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["It wasn't really a question," she laughs. "Now, where to begin. To be quite frank, my most recent visit to Caranor is what pushed me to this breaking point. The country seems sad. The few people I did see were quiet, and I believe they are being suppressed. A principality is just a pretty way of saying tyranny..." Her powerful voice fades to the background of your mind as you consider what you are about to do. You hold your hands together to stop them from shaking. The bottle feels heavy in your pack. (if: $ANTIDOTE is true)[You remember drinking the bitter antidote, and you pray it will work to save you.] All of a sudden you realize the President has stopped talking. She is staring at you expectantly. "Well?" She prompts you, "Have I left you speechless?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["Your strong argument has simply frozen my tongue in thought...]] [["No, but your clever mind has caused me to work up a sweat. I need a drink..."]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly as she turns to the side and begins pacing the length of the wooden table. "Now, where to begin. To be quite frank, my most recent visit to Caranor is what pushed me to this breaking point. The country seems sad. The few people I did see were quiet, and I believe they are being suppressed. A principality is just a pretty way of saying tyranny. The population of Inglatia grows every day as citizens move here from every corner of the world. We are due for expansion, and it feels like my moral obligation to save the citizens of Caranor from their own government."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Its hard to judge a country from one visit..." (interject)]] [[Don't interupt]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I reacted the same," the Governor says, "But the High Prince assured me there are more reasons the President wants to move to this extreme action. As Governor of the capitol city in this country, Prince Dorn appointed me to carry out a peaceful meeting to negotiate with the President. However, there is a crime syndicate on the rise here. In my city! I have been working day in and day out to see it disbanded, but it continues to grow despite my effort! I do not feel comfortable making the 7 day journey to Roller Hill, just to come back to my city in ruin! I didn't want it to come to this, but I need a diplomat, and I hear you are a master of your craft."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["What would you have me do?"]] ]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You confidently reply, "Well those are the secrets of my craft aren't they." The Governor chuckles, "I can respect anyone who holds their profession close. I'm sure you'll find a way to negotiate." You nod.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'll be off then!"]] [["Where do I begin?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))["This little runt was chased from his hole by some of his peers. Ran a little too far and winded up on the wrong side of the city. I was just collecting my payment for scaring his friends off. They likely would've done worse to him than I did." He responds to you as he begins walking towards you and the opening of the alley. "He won't come back here if there's any sense in that little head." "If there's any sense left. That was quite a blow you gave him." You say cooly. "Nothing less than he deserved." The guard matches your tone. A tension settles in the air between you. It is broken as he brushes past you and into the street. "Good day to you." He hisses.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Continue to the President's Estate]] [[Try to talk to the boy]]]

(set: $GOBLINARG to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[The sandy haired boy looks at you curiously before speaking. "My family business in Shanea, East of here. Our town borders Inglatia, and we do much trade with the northern towns. Our biggest supplier is based in Conch, one of the northern towns in Inglatia. My family hasn't heard from them in three weeks." You soak in the information. "I imagine how that would be bad for business," you reply. "My mom is saying we may need all hands on deck, and I can't afford University without them," he explained. "Rumors have spread. People think the goblins of North Inglatia may have wiped out the towns up there. Its all quite horrible really."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm sorry to hear that."]]]

(set: $ASSASSIN to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[The man smiles, gesturing to Alik. Alik walks over and hands you a letter. It has the Governer's stamp on the front. "This is your writ of business from the Governor," he explains. "I knicked it off him after your little meeting. It'll get you audience with the President when you arrive." You nod, and the man with dark hair speaks up. "You will leave tomorrow, on the same caravan you would have left on had you accepted the Governor's work. We've taken care of the diplomat you were replaced with. They will be expecting you. The President will also be expecting you. When you will meet, you will offer her a fine drink as a gift." He pulls out a bottle that appears to be some kind of aged wine. "This bottle is infused with poison, but it is real three century vintage wine from the Tareltown vinyards in southern Caranor. Pity we chose to use it really." "And the antidote?" You ask. "Of course," he says, pulling a small vile from his front pocket. "You must drink this within fifteen hours of when you plan to drink the wine. Don't forget it, or you might die." He smiles, "You leave at first light."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[The Morning]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I hope to hire you to take the Cord Road to Roller Hill, the capitol of Inglatia, to meet with the president and find terms for peace. It is a 7 day journey by wagon. I will ensure you have a guarded caravan and are not the only traveler, roads being how they are. Roller Hill is 240 miles out how the raven flies. The situation is dire, and you would leave tomorrow morning. You will be compensated generously."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Decline the Governor's proposal]] [[Accept the Governor's job]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["We know. You are a diplomat. Only a diplomat of your level can gain audience with the President. We only ask that you poison her. There will be no bloodshed, and the poison will not be traceable to you. It will seem as if she has had an allergic reaction to the drink you share. You, however, will take the antidote beforehand." He explains matter-of-factly, without a hint of remorse in his voice.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["I can't do it. I've never killed before and I don't plan to start now"]] [["Okay, I will do my best"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You ask the question in a hushed tone. He has led you through some back alleys and onto a street you don't recognize. "Unfortunately I cannot tell you that," he says calmly. "I'm really sorry about this." As he says this, three other men emerge from the shadows. A sack is placed over your head and the darkness becomes complete.] (bg:black)[ [[Continue]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You ask the question in a hushed tone. He has led you through some back alleys and onto a street you don't recognize. "We need you," he says calmly. "I'm really sorry about this." As he says this, three other men emerge from the shadows. A sack is placed over your head and the darkness becomes complete.] (bg:black)[ [[Continue]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[The younger man Bill covers a chuckle with his hand. The older man tilts his head. There is a subtle ammused twinkle in his eyes. "I'm honored you'd think that highly of us. I wouldn't know the Governor from you." You chuckle. "Well I thank you nonetheless," you say, "Good luck with your appointment." They nod, and you turn back to the room.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You tell the truth. The guard named Alik sighs withn relief, chuckling nervously, "See? I knew it was him." The man waves him to silence. "Very well. I will keep this short, for I know you are undoubtedly tired." He pauses, sizing you up with his eyes, "We need you to kill the President." Your face displays your shock blatantly. Noticing this, he presses on. "You are unaware of the potential she holds. President Axton will not be swayed from her course. She is going to war, peaceful negotiations or not. And she will not stop with Caranor. We have an informant from the President's own cabinet. Her plans of domination extend to all corners of the second continent, and she plans to ally with Stokland to utilize their powerful military. They are already in secret negotiation together. With their forces combined, they could destroy civilization as we know it. I don't doubt they'd try to conquer the whole of Ethal in a few years time."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["Who are you?"]] [["How can you be so sure of this?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["I hear you have problems with goblins ravaging northern Inglatia. You talk about war across borders when the conflicts within Inglatia go unchecked. I met a University student in Caranor who told me some concerning news about Conch, one of your northern towns." You see her face darken at the mention of the town's name. You press on. "He might have to drop out to help his family with their business in Shanea because they haven't heard from Conch in weeks. Folks are saying goblins pillaged the town. I don't see how you'll manage a larger conflict when you are struggling to protect your own towns within your borders." The President raises a hand to silence you. She asks, "They are saying goblins aren't they?" "Yes," you respond with ease. You feel a slight boost of confidence from her concerned look. "Everyone knows those lands haven't been settled by normal people for decades. It seems like a goblin horde has been festering there for quite some time." "Festering," she echoes your statement. "Its true Conch was practically razed to the ground, and we do suspect goblin activity in the area." She sighs heavily, "perhaps it is a blessing they sent you here. I have a lot of thinking to do. Alone." The last word hangs in the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly dismissed.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Good day, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You pull out the bottle of vintage wine as you continue, "I feel suddenly in need of a drink. This bottle is nearly three centuries old, aged from the Tareltown vinyards in southern Caranor. I bring only the finest drinks for the finest politicians. Would you mind sharing a glass with me before I share my rebuttle with you?" You hope you look as confident as you sounded. In truth, you have never offered drinks in any of your debates. Ever. This is so uncharacteristic of you that it makes you want to laugh. Still, you smile warmly and set the bottle down on the dark wooden table. "Well you are full of surprises," the President says as she opens a small cabinet and brings out two small glasses. "I suppose I could share some sips of a wine such as this." She sets the glasses down while you unscrew the cork. The bottle gives a satisfying pop as you pull the cork free.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Pour the glasses]] [[Ask if she thinks the butler would want to share]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You decide the job is well worth your time. "Okay, I'll do it." The Governor shakes your hand enthusiastically, smiling wide. "This is a huge favor you're doing me. Are you prepared to make a peace argument? What will you tell the President?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Well those are the secrets of my craft aren't they?"]] (if: $PEOPLEARG is true)[["I'll tell of the goodness of Caranor to its people..."]] (if: $RELIGIONARG is true)[["I'll tell of the strong alliance between the Prince, the Curch, and you..."]] (if: $STRUGGLEARG is true)[["I'll explain the people of Caranor do not struggle because they are ruled by a prince..."]] (if: $GOBLINARG is true)[["I'll question how the President expects to fight a war on top of the troubles inside Inglatia..."]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_399c1b8240844f1187aa4db7bdcd4dd8.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You walk over to the kind looking Innkeeper bustling behind the counter. You start to speak as you toss a coin on the counter to grab his attention. "I get the sense you know a lot about the town and the folk in it." "Well its hardly a town anymore. It has been a vast city for some time, but I do keep track of many things."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ask about the Governor's whereabouts]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)+(if: $DRUNK is false)+(if: $WOMAN is false)+(if: $MAPMEN is false)[["I thought so. I'll be right back."]]]

(set: $FOURMEN to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You walk up to the table of four. The 4 men are young, and you overhear a brief piece of their conversation as you approach the table. Sounds like they are attending the University in Corral.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Hello young masters, are you students?"]] [["Gentlemen, what is your business here?"]]]

(set: $MAPMEN to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You casually make your way to the two men arguing over a map. They don't pay you much mind, continuing their conversation. "I know what yer sayin Bill but they're not gonna go that far..." The man presumably named Bill responds, "We have to try! Come winter and the town'll starve Hob. We can't lowball this one." At the table now, they realize you're listening, you clear your throat.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Try to sound like them to gain trust]] [["Hey gentlemen, what brings you to town today?"]]]

(set: $WOMAN to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You approach the lady sitting alone. You see she is nursing a large bottle. Some kind of wine. Her eyes seem distant, and you can't help but wonder what she's thinking.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Greet her kindly]] [[Insult her]] [[Ask about the Governor]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_d4bc0c6a6d744aa49c7dd147640c7669.m4a" autoplay>

(set: $DRUNK to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You decide to approach the lone drunk shifting in the shadows. As you round the post he leans on you see his face. He looks weathered. The kind of look a man gets when he lives in a city for far too long. You wonder if he'll be of any help to you at all.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Hello sir, you drink here often?"]] [["I'm looking for the Governor"]] [["Can I buy you a drink?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Excuse me ma'am, I have to ask. Do you know where the Governor might hold a meeting. Nothing too official mind you." She looks at you you, her eyes are filled with tears. "I've only ever seen his speeches at the courthouse. Greg'll know." She gestures to the Innkeeper behind the bar. "He knows everything about anyone in this town. I'll be no more use to you." You hear the inflection in her voice and sense her polite dismissal. "Thank you, have a good meeting, or enjoy your evening..." You stutter through your goodbye awkardly, "good day."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[With no time to waste, you decide to be direct. "I'm looking for the Governor," you say. "If yer meeting isn't in the next hour I'd recommend you relax a little. Maybe get to know a few of the fine folk visiting my Inn today. Never hurts to share a drink and some kind words you know." He gives you a wink. "The governor is not one to be rushed. Being early with him won't do you any favors."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Turn back to the Inn]] [[Push forward]] ]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["Do you think your butler would like to try it as well?" "Linder?" She says, pausing a moment. "How about we enjoy the moment ourselves, and you can leave the bottle for Linder to try later." You realize how close you just came to killing her assistant. "Of course. I'd be happy to leave it as a token of gratitude for a smooth meeting," you say smoothly. You finish pouring two glasses of the dark purple wine, and hold yours up to the light, admiring the color. She takes up her crystal glass and looks to you. "Cheers!" You say hartily, and gently touch your glass to hers.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Take a sip]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[You try to turn away, but the pushing force becomes overwhelming. You can't help it, and step into the clearing. The whispering gains clarity. It is no language you've heard before, even from your linguistic studies background. It feels ancient. The red light swells as you stumble closer across the clearing. The language in your ears begins to make sense. "This was always your calling," it says. "This was always the way." You fall to your knees in front of the light. "Give your life to me," the voice feels like twisting wind now, "I calm storms, I shift mountains. I can stop your little war. Give yourself TO ME." Your eyes are wide now, reflecting the red light that swells in front of your kneeled figure. Deep in a dusty corner of your mind, your rationality throws itself against the bars of a glowing red cage. //This is magic! Real magic! There is no coming back from this! Snap out of it!// it yells. But your body does not yell. Instead, you stand up and make a deep bow to the light. You turn, and there is one of the figures from the circle standing behind you. They hold out a folded robe, all the while whispering. You undress, and accept the robe, wrapping it around you and pulling the hood up. Underneath, even though you are now facing away from the light, your eyes glow red.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 2/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You wake up, shivering. Your head is pounding and you feel two large bumps under your hair. The lump on top of your head is huge, and throbs with a fiery pain. The air around you is cold and damp. The only lightsource comes from above you. You look up to see walls stretching upwards for over 40 feet. The light is coming from a grate in the side of the wall behind you, and barely illuminates the area around you. You hear the distant sounds of wagon wheels and street chatter from the grate's opening. //There must be a street up there//, you think groggily to yourself, //looks like I'm in a cell with no doors//. You are sitting on a floor of black bricks. //Looks like the Governor had me locked away in a deep part of the city//.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 6/8]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[Your survival instincts kick in and you back slowly away from the rope. //Perhaps this is just another weird dream//, you think as you glance up towards the grate. As you look up, so see the silhouette of a head poke out from the window. Seeing nobody clambering up the rope, the figure calls out. "Hey idiot, I'm trying to save you. I hope that blow to your head didn't knock all the sense out of you." You wonder how this person knows about your head injury. If thats the case, then they must know who you are. Looks like not everyone has forgotten about you.] [[Climb the rope]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You back up to the wall opposite, feeling the damp stone behind you. The grate window glows above, and you call up to the street, yelling...] [["Help me!"]] [["Can anybody hear me!"]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.65))[You decide to set up camp in the woods nearby. The caravan seems to accept this decision, as everyone is tired. The road has been quick but by no means smooth. The carts are left by the road and you set up in a small clearing just inside the tree line. Time to get a fire going and start on some dinner.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["I'm going to look for wood for the fire!"]] [["I'm going back to the carts to fetch the food!"]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_491485c9679749479fc66176914a10c8.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You turn away from the guard, muttering some unsavory words for him under your breath. Its unsettling to see the corruption of the city unmasked so close to the President's home. The boy whimpers and stirs at the end of the alley. He starts to rise as you slowly approach to check on the blow to his head. You're halfway down the alley when he stands up, swaying slightly. "Are you alright?" You ask. He looks at you with feral eyes. His eyes dart around, analyzing the walls, the floor, trash, and you. There is a surprising quickness in his gaze. It feels almost as if he is clever beyond his years. You open your mouth to ask his age when he bolts. Except, there is nowhere to bolt. He runs straight at you, and you are barely able to move out of the way before he would've run straight into you. You turn as he flies past and watch his dirty feet pelt off the cobblestone and turn the corner at the end of the alley. With a sigh, you walk back to the street. There is no sign of the boy.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]] [[Continue to the President's Estate]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_7ee6d1d8d9cc4a4386ea585c818f4ffa.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You are about to try to quickly climb down when you feel the rope being pulled upwards. You look down, and realize you're too high to safely jump off. You feel another heave and you rise further towards the window grate. Only one way to go from here.] [[Climb all the way]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You finish climbing the rope. As you hit the top, you feel a hand grab the collar of your shirt and pull you over the ledge. As your eyes adjust to the light, you (if: $POKEFUN is true)[recognize the guard who you messed with earlier in the Pouring Prince.] (if: $POKEFUN is false)[see a man dressed in city guard attire standing above you.] He's holding a bar of iron that he likely just broke off of the grate you climbed through.] (bg:black)[ [["Hello"]] [["What are you doing here"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[Without a second thought, you give the rope a good test pull, then begin your ascent to the window. You are about halfway up when a head pokes out from the great above you, casting a dark shadow over your climbing figure. "Oh good good," it says, dissapearing back out of view. This little stunt startles you so much you nearly let go of the rope.] [[Climb all the way]] [[Clamber back down]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You come to your senses in a small room. The room is cramped, illuminated fully by a small number of candles on a large round table in the center of the space. Some crude chairs surround the table, and the guards who carried you here occupy them. There is a man you've never seen before sittin opposite you. He is middle-aged, with a tanned complexion and streaks of silver in his dark brown hair. He notices you stir in your seat. Some of the men who were chatting go silent and turn to look at you. "So you are the one who was thrown in jail for politely refusing a Governor's wish?" The mystery man speaks, his voice filling the small room.] (bg:black)[ [[Nod]] [[Shake your head]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))["Hey!" You speak up loudly and the guard spins around. His hand instinctively going for the hilt of a well concealed short sword at his belt. Seeing your finer clothes, he relaxes. "This doesn't concern you sir, I suggest you carry about your business."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["What is going on here?"]] [["Put the coin back."]]]

You are jostled around the streets for what feels like an hour. Then again, time stretches out when your head is pounding and you have no vision. Finally you come to a stopn. It is a relief to no longer be stumbling blindly in the dark. "You sure this is the right one?" You hear a man say. "Yes, thickhead, I was //there//," the voice of the guard who helped you escape responds. "Don't act like you've never been wrong before," another voice chimes in. "Oh shut up Brutus, I know you're not referring to the winter festival," your savior's voice rebutes. "That was one time, and it hardly mattered. The runt still did the job did he not?" You hear a grumbled agreement from the group. Someone loosens their grip on you. Your hands are free. (bg:black)[ [[Take the sack off your head]] [[Make a run for it]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You continue your journey until you see a guard pacing along a tall black fence topped with expensive looking silver metal spikes. The manor behind the fence looks grand yet humble at the same time. You can only assume this is the President's Estate. You turn at the end of the street and walk along the fence until you see the front gate. There is a guard stationed on both sides of the gate. You approach them, fumbling with your pack to get your official paper as proof of your appointment.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Hello fine gentlemen! I am here..."]] [["Open the gate! I have important..."]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You begin to decline, and the Governor feigns disappointment as he lifts his hand and says, "It would be a shame to waste such talent as yours. I know you are a smart man, and I know you understand when I say the situationm is dire, I mean it. I will give you one chance to reconsider my offer." As he says this, the four men in the corners stand in unison, each with a hand resting on their batons, which have just been revealed under their cloaks as they stood.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Politely refuse]] [[Accept the Governor's job]] ]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[You politely decline, and she nods. "Very well. It seems I have just gained an immense workload. I would appreciate it we could close this pleasant meeting. Have a good rest of your stay in Roller Hill." You recognize her polite dismissal and make your way back through the halls, out the door and through the tall gate back to the city.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 4/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["For me, it is a win-win situation," she continues. "Inglatia gets a needed expansion, and we free the people of Caranor. Not to mention seizing the economy of Caranor, bringing more wealth to the greatest democracy in this world. That is where my thoughts reside. Saying it out loud only greatens the appeal." She nods confidently to herself and looks at you expectantly. "Well? Why shouldn't I crush the tyranny?" Your mind races with a thousand reasons why war is bad, but you stick to the script. You think back to the Governor asking you what you were going to say. The floor is yours.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ (if: $PEOPLEARG is true)[["Caranor's people are good, and well taken care of..."]] (if: $RELIGIONARG is true)[["Caranor is run for it's citizens. The Church provides..."]] (if: $STRUGGLEARG is true)[["Caranor's people do not struggle because of the High Prince..."]] (if: $GOBLINARG is true)[["You talk about a war across borders when the conflicts within Inglatia go unchecked..."]] (if: $CORRUPTARG is true)[["How can you expect to manage a war far away when there is corruption on the streets outside your estate..."]] [[Your thoughts betray you, and you cannot think of a proper argument]]]

(set: $ANTIDOTE to true) (bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.8))[You remember what the Myraes told you. "//You must drink this within fifteen hours of when you plan to drink the wine//." You pop the cork and swig the dark liquid down. It tastes bitter, with a hint of mint.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Follow the directions to the President's Estate]] ]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You think a silent prayer and begin to drink the cup of wine. It truly has an amazing flavor. You set the empty glass down on the table. Looking up at the President, you smile a purple, toothy grin. "Happy?" You say.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 7/11]] ]

Droris is an entity of chaos. It is believed that Droris was once a nature diety, perhaps the soul of a blessed Goesin priest. Thousands of years ago, Droris traveled the entire world, seeing everything and everyone. Witnessing the ever churning machine of nature. The further Droris traveled, the more it began to lose the sense of it all. One day, Droris was strolling in a bright field of wheat, watching farmers work the harvest season. The sun reflected off the yellow crop, basking everything in a golden light. As he strolled, he noticed a young boy, no more than six years of age, waving a pitchfork in the air. The boy's father was tieing a scarecrow to a post in front of the boy. Droris watched as the boy turned to the scarecrow and plunged the pitchfork into its chest, spilling hay from it's overstuffed shirt. The father turned and stood up, scolding the boy in a language the world has forgotten. His shirt was the same color as the scarecrows. The boy was fixated on it. Droris watched the boys eyes as he looked down at the pitchfork, up at the scarecrow, and then at his fathers shirt. The father was finishing his lecture when the boy lunged with all the might a six year old can muster, plunging the pitchfork deep into his father's chest. The man crumpled, and the boy just stood there, staring curiously at him. Something inside Droris snapped that day. It is said that every day since, Droris has spread chaos across the world, trying to get other people to witness the horror he had, and feel the way he had felt. His followers are creatures determined to work his cause. They are made up of mostly evil humans, goblins, orcs, dark elves, and other dangerous creatures of the world.

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[It seems you were admitted to an asylum for the mentally unstable and insane populations of the capitol city. You doubt this is what your father had in mind when he told you to "keep your head up, for the road will always lead you right where you're supposed to go." You spend your time scratching stone walls and dreaming of what could've happened if you had never given up.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You successfully assassinated the President. She is unable to start her conquest across the continent. As the Myraes predicted, you get off clean, and the President is presumed dead due to an allergic reaction. You return to Corral to search for the secret meeting room, but you can't find it. You are never officially contacted by the Myraes again, although a suspicious bag of gold finds its way to your door in the Corral Reef, the inn where you're staying again. You feel uneasy, hoping you made the right choice, and wondering whether you could've forged a different path had your choices been different.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You and the President are dead. Your bodies lay feet from eachother on the floor, illuminated by the bright windows. You sacrificed yourself for the greater good, preventing a conquest that would have caused millions to suffer. Eventually the butler, Linder, finds your bodies. He weeps. It is presumed that the wine had some mysterious fungal growth which caused your deaths. Your spirit floats, confined to the President's room for eternity, questioning whether or not it could have done everything differently. Running through choices in its ethereal mind.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[RESTART]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[Your body moves, but your mind is trapped behind crimson bars. You were initiated into a mysterious cult. You live out the rest of your entranced days in worship, and die of natural causes at the age of 91. The tiny rational piece of your mind spends the rest of time questioning what it could have done differently on your journey.] [[RESTART]] <audio src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=2296ea3f9a&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r-4586144718999500026&th=18efd564e520e84a&view=att&disp=safe&realattid=f_lv8lc9qo0" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[You failed to stop the war between Inglatia and Caranor. Its rare for you to fail a job, but clearly not impossible. You think about what your mother might say. "The one who falls and gets up is stronger than the one who never tried!" Or something like that. It is a bloody, unnecessary war. Many innocent people die. Neither side truly wins in the end, and the result is only a slight change in the country's borders. With the bitter taste of defeat in your mouth, you can't help but wonder what could've happened had you made different choices along the way.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_a98b22abcc544052a8781c06a3b81640.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[After setting out to prevent war, you ended up encouraging it. At least you made friends with the President. With your morals in question, you fall asleep at a nearby inn. War ensues in the coming weeks. It is a bloody, unnecessary war. Many innocent people die. Neither side truly wins in the end, and the result is only a slight change in the country's borders. With a confused knot in your stomach, you can't help but wonder how your journey could have turned out differently had you made different decisions along the way.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_a4b15c61ca05457fad5c712bbe268e63.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[Congratulations! You successfully prevented war between Caranor and Inglatia. You reflect on your adventure, content with where your decisions led you. Despite the wonderful taste of sweet victory on your tongue, you can't help but wonder what would've happened had you chosen a different path.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f343a60252484038939d022205359498.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You remember nothing about your near escape, or the guard saving you. You rot in the cell for years, often dreaming of small, candle-lit rooms and a man with silver streaks in his hair, but you never figure out what those dreams mean. Eventually you are infected with a rare illness, and succumb to the darkness of eternal sleep at the age of 32. You will never know if there was a war or not.] (bg:black)[ [[RESTART]] ] <audio src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=2296ea3f9a&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r-4586144718999500026&th=18efd564e520e84a&view=att&disp=safe&realattid=f_lv8lc9qo0" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You feel an immense pressure on your chest. It spreads beyond your chest and it feels as if your veins will burst. You look down at your hands, and they are red with pressure. You gargle something unintelligible as you slump to the cold stone floor. The last thing you see are the President's red leather boots walking towards you. She watches as you convulse for half a minute before your body writhes to a still. You have died, failing to assassinate the President. War ensues, but you are dead, and will never know the result. Your spirit wonders if there was another path you could've taken, or a different choice you could've made to make things turn out differently.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[RESTART]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_a4b15c61ca05457fad5c712bbe268e63.mp3" autoplay>

You are tortured for many years by the President. She even shows you off to her close friends and allies from time to time. You don't doubt she is showing them what she is capable of should they turn against her. However, you don't doubt much of anything anymore. Your mind becomes cracked in many places, and even when you are eventually released, you wander Roller Hill aimlessly. Insanity claims you, and you live out the rest of your life as a beggar in the streets. Eventually the great war does ensue, but you can hardly remember your name. Perhaps it is better this way. Even so, the last sane part of your concious, locked away in a deep corner of your mind, wonders if you could've faired differently in life. Perhaps if you had made different decisions... (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f343a60252484038939d022205359498.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You feel the cold bite of metal on your neck, and the last thing you see is the god of knowledge sitting peacefully at his desk, reading his book. The President slits your throat, stepping back as your body thuds to the floor. A dark pool of blood stains the carpet covering this part of the stone floor. She looks only subtly dissapointed. You failed to stop the war, and worse, you exposed the work of the Myraes. War ensues, and the Myraes are hunted by the President and her allies. Your spirit wonders if you could have made a difference, had you made different decisions if your too short life.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[RESTART]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f343a60252484038939d022205359498.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You decide it would be safest to follow the directions you were given. After all, a capitol city such as this carries many secrets in its overlapping streets, most of which you probably don't want to discover. You take a few turns, and eventually see a guard pacing along a tall black fence topped with expensive looking silver metal spikes. The manor behind the fence looks grand yet humble at the same time. You can only assume this is the President's Estate. You turn at the end of the street and walk along the fence until you see the front gate. There is a guard stationed on both sides of the gate. You approach them, fumbling with your pack to get your official paper as proof of your appointment.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Hello fine gentlemen! I am here..."]] [["Open the gate! I have important..."]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,1,0.3706,0.8))[You give the door a resounding single knock. You can hear the sound echoing through the house behind the door. After a few brief moments, the large door creaks open, revealing a small, portly man with a disticntly sharp nose. He has a whisp of grey hair on top of his head, and you can't help but picture a rooster when you look at him. You doubt this is the cutting figure of the President of Inglatia, but you decide to test your suspicions with a joke. "Mr. President," you say, "I thought you'd be taller." The man bursts into a high pitched cackle. "I'm glad you're not all serious business! I think Rose will quite like that. Come come. You'll have your meeting this way." It seems the President was quite prepared for your arrival. You follow the portly man down a hall and into a large room that seems to be a versatile mix between a dining hall, meeting room, and ball room. A tall woman with dark hair and cunning eyes stands on the other side of the room at the end of a dark, glossy wooden table.] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Good afternoon Madam President"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Madam President?" (emphasize 'Madam')]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Hello Madam President, it's an honor"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Good Evening Madam President"]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_7227a52ad9da45d9b0e129445eff652e.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,1,0.3706,0.8))[You give the door four knocks, each with their own pressure and speed. The pattern is uncomfortably erratic, but it is too late to turn back now. You can hear the sound echoing through the house behind the door. After a few brief moments, the large door creaks open, revealing a small, portly man with a disticntly sharp nose. He has a whisp of grey hair on top of his head, and you can't help but picture a rooster when you look at him. You doubt this is the cutting figure of the President of Inglatia, but you decide to test your suspicions with a joke. "Mr. President," you say, "I thought you'd be taller." The man bursts into a high pitched cackle. "I'm glad you're not all serious business! I think Rose will quite like that. Come come. You'll have your meeting this way." It seems the President was quite prepared for your arrival. You follow the portly man down a hall and into a large room that seems to be a versatile mix between a dining hall, meeting room, and ball room. A tall woman with dark hair and cunning eyes stands on the other side of the room at the end of a dark, glossy wooden table.] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Good afternoon Madam President"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Madam President?" (emphasize 'Madam')]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Hello Madam President, it's an honor"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Good Evening Madam President"]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_d85c218472e04de29d734015b173e7c5.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,1,0.3706,0.8))[You give the door two sharp knocks. You can hear the sound echoing through the house behind the door. After a few brief moments, the large door creaks open, revealing a small, portly man with a disticntly sharp nose. He has a whisp of grey hair on top of his head, and you can't help but picture a rooster when you look at him. You doubt this is the cutting figure of the President of Inglatia, but you decide to test your suspicions with a joke. "Mr. President," you say, "I thought you'd be taller." The man bursts into a high pitched cackle. "I'm glad you're not all serious business! I think Rose will quite like that. Come come. You'll have your meeting this way." It seems the President was quite prepared for your arrival. You follow the portly man down a hall and into a large room that seems to be a versatile mix between a dining hall, meeting room, and ball room. A tall woman with dark hair and cunning eyes stands on the other side of the room at the end of a dark, glossy wooden table.] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Good afternoon Madam President"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Madam President?" (emphasize 'Madam')]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Hello Madam President, it's an honor"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Good Evening Madam President"]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_3d700b95d6874035862b4f628487f916.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You give up. Lying there on the dusty cobbled street for hours, you begin to feel the stone digging into soft places along your back. The daylight fades to dusk, and the clouds take on the colorful waves of a sunset. As the sky grows dark, you hear a rustle somewhere behind your head.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Investigate the noise]] [[Truly give up]]]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[You walk the streets for a while, eventually finding him sitting outside one of the taverns, smoking a long reed pipe. His eyes light up when he sees you. "My most presigious diplomat!" He calls out, "I got the news jsut this morning!" "What news?" You ask. "The President called off the conflict. We are workshopping a peace treaty to propose next week!" He explains it all happily. "That's great to hear," you say as you feel the pressure of your mission lift off your shoulders. "I was happy to be of service to you." He laughs and pats your shoulder. "I expect you're expecting this," he rattles as he hands you a small pouch that clinks with the sound of heavy coins inside. "If you're ever in this part of the world again, be sure to let me know it," he says as he shakes your hand and turns back to his bench.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 5/11]]]

(set: $POKEFUN to false) (bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You are a sillouhette in the tall doorway of the tavern. A light wind whistles past you, and your eyes work to adjust to the new light of the room. As they focus, you notice the room is only occupied by five people. //Strange for a tavern midday//, you think. Four men each sit alone in a corner of the room. At a glance, one might believe they were simply nursing their drinks, but any keen observer would see the gleam of chainmail peeking from the collars of their shirts, and the dull iron hilts of swords at their belts. Members of the city guard. There is another solo man sitting in the center of the room at a small table. He is somewhat round and well dressed in soft yet striking blue tones, with a round, pink face that has been fed by the riches of political work for many years. The chair across from him becons you to join. This must be the governor, you think.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Poke fun at a guard]] [[Meet with the Governor]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_bfff054ed9c74c7b9d8220adf0b30ac4.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[You drop everything and silently stalk towards the light. As you get closer, you realize it is not flickering at all. That must've been the light breeze blowing branches across your line of sight. A stony area opens up into a circular clearing surrounded by the deep woods. A circle of 12 robed figures stand on the perimeter, facing the middle, where a crimson red light radiates from... Well, from nothing. The light seems to be its own source, shifting and floating in the center. Whispers so soft it could be mistaken for the wind spread across the clearing. The hooded figures seem to be repeating something under their breath. As you stare, mesmerized by this mysterious light, the voices become sharper in your ears. You manage to look away for a moment and they become whispers once more. //How strange, looking at the light seems to amplify the whispers// some rational part of your mind thinks. In an instance, you feel an overwhelming need to understand the whispers, and your eyes can't help but snap back to the light. A warm feeling comes over you, and it is almost as if your closest friend is patting you on the back, gently pushing you towards the light.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Step into the clearing]] [[Attempt to flee]]]

You choose the path of least resistance, and are escorted down a narrow staircase, through a few halls, and into a cell deep underneath the President's estate. The men push you into the cell, and Linder looks at you with sad eyes. //I don't think there's a way out of this one//, you think. [[Ending 8/11]]

Goesin is the most common religion of the current era. Followers believe in three major principles: Human Connection, Charity, and Nature. They value nature as something that grounds all of us, and can bring people together. They use charity to foster human connection and protect nature. Many of the wild, natural places in the world are watched over by Goesin priests. The Goesin religion is monotheistic, but their "God" Goeses is interchangable with Ethal. They believe the world itself is alive, and with proper care and faith it will protect it's people. A common farewell is "May Goeses feel your presence." Goesin followers are diverse, but mostly comprised of wood elves, humans, and some dwarves.

(set: $STRUGGLEARG to true) (bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You place a hand on the table softly as not to startle her out of her state. "Hello madam. Are you doing alright?" She looks up, and even though she meets your eyes, it doesn't feel like she really sees you. "I'm waiting for my husband. He will not come, but every Properseve I come to share a drink with him. It was our favorite spot."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["That's very thoughtful of you, I'm sure he would appreciate it."]] [["Sorry to bother you ma'am"]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_d4bc0c6a6d744aa49c7dd147640c7669.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You decide to stay and help her write up the declaration of war. The official document turns out extremely well, and she sends her portly butler to go have it printed a few hundred times. She thanks you for your contribution, and you leave her estate as the sun sets, dampening the sky in a soft purple light.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 4/11]]]

Hintracolian is the second largest religion in Ethal. It is ploytheistic religion that has a god or goddess for almost any natural phenomena you can think of. The family tree of the gods of Hintracolian is a mass of confusing webs simply because there are so many entities. The theory of Hintracolian is that everyone should have three things they hold their faith in. For example, a follower may choose to worship Anthos, god of ancestory, Chorris, goddess of food, and Hintra, the goddess of leadership. It is very common for one of the three to be Hintra, as she is the matriarch to which all other gods and goddesses respond. If someone were to follow those three, they may honor their elders guidance and take extra care of what they consume. The religion almost acts as a reminder to value certain aspects of your life. It is not uncommon of a Hintracolian to worship more than three divine entities. The story goes that Hintra existed before anything existed. She birthed the world, but it felt empty, so she began to fill it. Instead of simply creating things however, she birthed gods and goddesses to watch over her creations. Soon enough, these gods and goddesses began having children of their own, and the world was filled with many things. The name Ethal (the name of the world in the common language) is actually derived from a Hintrocolian god, Ethalian, who is Hintra's son, in charge of the world. She created Ethalian first, when she created the world, and all other god's came after him. Hintrocolians are a diverse crowd. Because the religion is so accessible and easy to understand, you can find almost any type of creature following it.

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You are sleeping peacefully on the hard brick. It is nearly pitch black in the cell now. A faint blue light illuminates some of the wall above you across from the grate. You are awoken by the distinct sound of snapping metal. A slight whistle follows the noise, and you hear something smack against the wall underneath the grate. You feel around, eventually wrapping your hand around a thick rope. You can feel that it leads straight up. Up to the grate. A way out.] [[Climb the rope]] [[Back away from the rope]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["You 'don't know'?" She mocks your tone. "This is an utter waste of my time. I have much more important issues to deal with. You may leave." The last word bites the air, and you realize you've been swiftlyand suddenly discharged. You stand for a moment, flabbergasted by your horrible performance.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Farewell, Madam President"]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She smiles. "Right? When you lay it all on the table, it seems to be the path to a better future for Inglatia. Its nice to have someone see eye to eye with me on this. You won't believe the trouble some of my advisors are giving me on this issue." She laughs lightly. "Would you like to help me write the declaration of war?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Help her start the war]] [[Don't get more involved]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["You're a sad one aren't you. Truest sight of pity I've ever seen." The lady looks up with hollow eyes. "Leave us alone please," she says. "Freak," you say as you turn back to the rest of the room.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]] [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(set: $CORRUPTARG to true) (bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You decide to investigate the commotion, and as you approach the alley you hear two voices. A gruff, manly voice, and the high pitched squabble of a young boy. "You must think I'm stupid," you hear the man say, "but I warned you what would happen if you tried begging here again." "I mean no trouble sir." The boy whimpers in response. "Honest." You are up next to the alley at this point.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Step into view]] [[Peer around the corner]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[The Innkeeper chuckles, "No need to be humble here. I'm sure your business is important. I don't doubt he'd meet you at the Pouring Prince. Real nice bar just three blocks from here. Huge fountain out front, you can't miss it." "Thanks for your help! You clearly know your business." You watch as he taps his nose knowingly before turning back to polishing bottles. You walk to the door and step out onto the cobbled street. Sun beams warm your face as you look down the bustling avenue.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]] [[Go to the Pouring Prince to meet the Governor]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,1,0.3706,0.8))[You remember your mother teaching you some courtly manners when you were young. You give three precise knocks. Two quick taps and a final solid strike. You can hear the sound echoing through the house behind the door. After a few brief moments, the large door creaks open, revealing a small, portly man with a disticntly sharp nose. He has a whisp of grey hair on top of his head, and you can't help but picture a rooster when you look at him. You doubt this is the cutting figure of the President of Inglatia, but you decide to test your suspicions with a joke. "Mr. President," you say, "I thought you'd be taller." The man bursts into a high pitched cackle. "I'm glad you're not all serious business! I think Rose will quite like that. Come come. You'll have your meeting this way." It seems the President was quite prepared for your arrival. You follow the portly man down a hall and into a large room that seems to be a versatile mix between a dining hall, meeting room, and ball room. A tall woman with dark hair and cunning eyes stands on the other side of the room at the end of a dark, glossy wooden table.] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Good afternoon Madam President"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Madam President?" (emphasize 'Madam')]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Hello Madam President, it's an honor"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Good Evening Madam President"]] <audio src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=2296ea3f9a&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r5368441043841524139&th=18efd59f5d10ab1c&view=att&disp=safe&realattid=18efd59e16fa645a7c11" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,1,0.3706,0.8))[You rap the door fast and hard, so it is no surprise when your feel the skin of your knuckle give way. You quickly cover the wound and try to wipe a small dot of blood off the door, but you just smudge it more. //It matches the red anyway//, you think to yourself. You can hear the sound echoing through the house behind the door. After a few brief moments, the large door creaks open, revealing a small, portly man with a disticntly sharp nose. He has a whisp of grey hair on top of his head, and you can't help but picture a rooster when you look at him. You doubt this is the cutting figure of the President of Inglatia, but you decide to test your suspicions with a joke. "Mr. President," you say, "I thought you'd be taller." The man bursts into a high pitched cackle. "I'm glad you're not all serious business! I think Rose will quite like that. Come come. You'll have your meeting this way." It seems the President was quite prepared for your arrival. You follow the portly man down a hall and into a large room that seems to be a versatile mix between a dining hall, meeting room, and ball room. A tall woman with dark hair and cunning eyes stands on the other side of the room at the end of a dark, glossy wooden table.] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Good afternoon Madam President"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Madam President?" (emphasize 'Madam')]] (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[["Hello ma'am, are you the president's lovely wife?"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Hello Madam President, it's an honor"]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[["Good Evening Madam President"]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_e1c87d914d0f490a98a4be18cf548924.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You decide it is best if you get away from here before he sees you loitering about. As for the boy? //Well, he has stayed alive this long// you think, //he'll be alright.//] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Continue to the President's Estate]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.01))[Feeling impatient, you decide you don't need an address to find the Governor. //Surely he is obvious to the eye//, you think to yourself. You could not be more wrong. After a few miles stomping about the city and making random conversations with an odd assortment of folk, your entusiasm is at rock-bottom. It would probably be best to return to the Inn to collect yourself, or you could give up entirely...] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[The Inn: Corral Reef]] [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]]]

Linthal is a dying religion. There are hundreds of principles and commandments that make up the Book of Truth. Only the most devoted followers know more than half of their own religion. Overall, most of the principles have to do with how individuals should handle specific ethical situations. The Book of Truth acts as a rulebook for your entire life. The Linthal religion is monotheistic, and their "God" Linth is seen as an ever watching judge of action and character. A common farewell is the elvish phrase"Lintha nikal." Which translates to 'Linthal judges' in the common tongue. Linthal followers are almost entirely older high elves, as these are the only creatures with enough time to truly practice the extensive religion. It is rumored that The Book of Truth has 37 iterations, all filled with a different set of principles to follow.

You make a wild dash away from the men. As you bolt, you try to take the sack off your head so you can see. It catches on your chin as you're pulling it off. Still blind, you run headlong into a solid stone wall. You are knocked out cold, and your body crumples to the cobblestones. [[Come to your senses]]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.7))[As you wander the streets, you admire the layout of the city. It seems the districts have been set up to segregate based on economic class. While not the most ethical, you can't help but acknowledge how effectively it was done. The streets around the President's estate were clean, and patrolled by guards that were dressed discreetly, and could easily be mistaken for wealthy citizens. Almost mathematically, there was a point when this atmosphere shifted, and the personality of Roller Hill shined through. Merchants stood along dusty cobbled streets, yelling at passerbys. Beggars of all ages wandered along the road, endlessly hoping for the kindness of strangers. The air smelled different on these streets as well. A mix of seafood from the city's coastal boarder, along with the stench of an obvious lack of sewage infrastructure or perhaps a general neglect of bathrooms. Trash littered the roads, but not obscenely, and the people were dressed casually. What you could only guess was a fisherman yelled in conversation with a plump merchant in front of a restaurant. No guards patrolled this area. Observing the position of the sun, you decide its time to meet the President. As you walk away from the dusty part of the city, you hear a commotion coming from an alleyway.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Continue to the President's Estate]] [[Investigate the alley]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_2a0cea5d354d47f8945379849daeaddb.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You stroll towards the center of the large room and sit down in the chair accross from the Governor. "Afternoon sir," you say as you take your seat. "Lets get straight to business." The Governor straightens up in his seat, "I can admire someone who values efficiency. Let me tell you a story. Typically a story begins long ago in a land far away. This story does not. It begins in Inglatia, during a holiday festival no more than a year ago. The High Prince of Caranor, Prince Dorn, was visiting Inglatia for this occasion. During his days enjoying festivities and different culture, the Prince gained eyes for a young lady. That young lady just so happened to be the President of Inglatias daughter. As you can imagine, President Axton, a democratic leader through and through, was not pleased with her. The President wanted nothing to do with "the monarchy." Well now, only months later, relations between Carranor and Inglatia have only soured further. After High Prince Dorn's last meeting with the President, he suspects war might be brewing."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["War? Over a daughter's fancy?"]] [["What would you have me do?"]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_399c1b8240844f1187aa4db7bdcd4dd8.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You're about to turn back to the room, but you feel as if your exit was rather abrupt. //I'll just get on with it and ask about the Governor I suppose//, you think.] (bg:black)[ [[Push forward]]]

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.8))[The following morning you gather your things and the caravan promptly continues the journey to Roller Hill. You're less than a days ride away now, and starting to feel anxious for your appointment. Sometimes you wonder why you picked this profession. You're only just approaching 30 and a few grey hairs are already coming through from the sheer stress of many of your negotiations. A shout from the wagon in front snaps you out of your negative thoughts. "Up ahead!" You hop out of the wagon and jog to the front of the line. The road opens up immensely in front of you, nearly four times the size it was a mile back. It winds its way forward, and in the distance you see many plumes of smoke twirling in the sky, and the grey haze only a big city can create. Barely half an hour later you are gathering your things and thanking the guard members for the safe passage. You shake hands with a few of the other people in the group. It is a bittersweet goodbye, as a few days on a long road brings people as close as old friends. Now, it is likely you will never see these people again. Thus is the way of the world, you suppose. Travel can bring together the most unlikely people, then tear them apart just as easily. Looking around, you are impressed by the organized streets, all labeled with signs and not dirtied with sewage and trash. You assume you are in the nicer part of town. You have simple directions written on the envelope that contains your writ of business from the Governor. It looks like you're on the right street to start the directions.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Follow the directions to the President's Estate]] [[Make up your own way]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))["Well then, I will keep this very simple. I'm sure you are tired as it is." He looks at you with an intensity, "We need you to kill the President." Your face displays your shock blatantly. Noticing this, he presses on. "You are unaware of the potential she holds. President Axton will not be swayed from her course. She is going to war, peaceful negotiations or not. And she will not stop with Caranor. We have an informant from the President's own cabinet. Her plans of domination extend to all corners of the second continent, and she plans to ally with Stokland to utilize their powerful military. They are already in secret negotiation together. With their forces combined, they could destroy civilization as we know it. I don't doubt they'd try to conquer the whole of Ethal in a few years time."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["Who are you?"]] [["How can you be so sure of this?"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You peer around the corner to see a dead end alleyway. There is a dirty, rag-adorned boy that can't be older than 9 cowering against the wall behind him. A city guard clothed in richly dyed purple cloth stands over the boy, his hand raised. It is the perfect picture of juxtaposition. The rich and the poor. The beater and the beaten. The lion and the sheep. "Honest?" The guard scoffs as he brings his hand down in a hard fist on the boy's cheek. "You street urchins are the furthest creature from honest." He spits the last sentence as the boy crumples. Kneeling down, the guard begins to feel the boys pockets. He takes off one of the boy's socks, revealing a single silver coin. "This is all I get for my troubles," you hear him mutter as he pockets the coin.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave before he turns around]] [[Pretend as if you saw nothing and wait for the guard to leave]] [[Confront the guard about what he's done]]]

(set: $POKEFUN to true) (bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You decide to let the guards know you see them, and casually stroll up to a corner of the room. "Hello shiny," you say with a grin to the guard seated there. He looks up at you with hard eyes. "Don't try to pull anything with the Governor," he warns, "You'll end up like to last fool who tested their luck." "Serious business today I see. Very well." You respond lightly, but you can tell this guard is not humored.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Step outside]] [[Meet with the Governor]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You stand your ground and politely refuse his offer. "Damn you!" He snaps as his hand slaps the side of the table. "You are going to learn what happens to those who decline my offers!" His sudden change in demeanor is frightening. The four guards close in around you and a bag is placed over your head. You gasp as you are roughly departed from your seat. One of the guards lets go of your arm and your body rolls to the side. You feel a sharp pain as your head bounces off a table or chair. Your body goes limp as you fall peacefully unconcious.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Wake up]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_69714ebe38e44b47ae49fd1507e744c4.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You finish pouring two glasses of the dark purple wine, and hold yours up to the light, admiring the rich color. She takes up her crystal glass and looks to you. "Cheers!" You say hartily, and gently touch your glass to hers. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Take a sip]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You reluctantly pour yourself a glass. It sits in front of you on the table, a dark purple swimming in the crystal glass. "Drink it." She demands. You put it up to your mouth, letting the wine wet your lips. You wonder how poisonous it really is. How much will kill you.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Pretend to drink]] [[Drink the cup]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You turn away from the alley and idly stand leaning against the wall. You use the letter as a prop and pretend to read its contents as the guard emerges from the alley. He squints at you, clearly suspicious as to your business so close to his business. You glance carelessley at him, and this seems to do the trick. He turns and begins walking down the street. //I could yell after him// you think to yourself, //But then again, what's the trouble?//] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Confront the guard about what he's done]] [[Check on the boy]] [[Continue to the President's Estate]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You pretend to take a long sip. "I know what you're doing," she says calmly. "Have it your way. LINDER!" It appears she saw straight through your nervous performance. The little man who answered the door when you arrive bustles in, taking only a few seconds to respond to the President's call. He is accompanied by two guards decorated in gleaming armor. //These are no casual street guards//, you think. "Yes my lady?" Linder squeaks. "I just need to borrow your friends Linder. Thank you for bringing them." She says, and Linder smiles nervously. "Now, gentlemen. My friend here has refused a drink, but I am afraid he is rather thirsty. Would you mind helping him drink a glass of his //fine// wine?" The men nod. If they understand what is happening, it does not show on their faces. In a blink, you are pinned, back down on the table. One of the guards opens the bottle and tips it to your lips. You thrash, struggling against the arms of his companion. A rich, fruity taste reaches your tongue. You gag, spitting up the dark purple Tareltown wine until it finally reaches the back of your throat, and there is nothing else to do but swallow and pray...] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 7/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You decide to push forward despite his warning. "Would you happen to know where the Governor may meet a diplomat such as myself for a business meeting?" "Well the man fancies having meeting in many places, depending on the importance of course. How important would you say this meeting is?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["The fate of the world depends on it"]] [["Of great import"]] [[It's probably important to him]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You have an uneasy feeling about the woods in these parts, and after a quick conference, the caravan decides to push on in the dark until you find more suitable accomodations. It seems luck is in your favor, as you round the next bend you see lamplight silhouetting a large Inn. The Inn, 'The Tripping Bard', has just enough vacancy for your group to get their own rooms. You let yourself fall into the comfort of a feather mattress, and your dreams spin tales of dark forests and hooded figures bathed in crimson light. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[[Next Morning]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[[Roller Hill]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_491485c9679749479fc66176914a10c8.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[The World]] ]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You refuse to move a muscle. "Very well," she says calmly. "Have it your way. LINDER!" The little man who answered the door when you arrive bustles in, taking only a few seconds to respond to the President's call. He is accompanied by two guards decorated in gleaming armor. //These are no casual street guards//, you think. "Yes my lady?" Linder squeaks. "I just need to borrow your friends Linder. Thank you for bringing them." She says, and Linder smiles nervously. "Now, gentlemen. My friend here has refused a drink, but I am afraid he is rather thirsty. Would you mind helping him drink a glass of his //fine// wine?" The men nod. If they understand what is happening, it does not show on their faces. In a blink, you are pinned, back down on the table. One of the guards opens the bottle and tips it to your lips. You thrash, struggling against the arms of his companion. A rich, fruity taste reaches your tongue. You gag, spitting up the dark purple Tareltown wine until it finally reaches the back of your throat, and there is nothing else to do but swallow and pray...] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 7/11]]]

You try in vain to stay in your seat as the men wrestle you into a painful grip. You are dragged down a narrow staircase, through some halls, and into a cell deep within the President's estate. Linder shakes his head, looking at you with sad eyes. "Good luck," he says. You nod, knowing in your heart that no amount of luck will save your from this fate. [[Ending 8/11]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.65))[You get back to the camp, and everyone is thankful for your contribution to the meal. The fire gets started, and the food turns out delicious. "Everything tastes better on the road" someone says, and everyone nods a silent agreement. You head to your sleepsack, and dream partial dreams about flickering lights and good meals. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ (if: $ASSASSIN is false)[[Next Morning]] (if: $ASSASSIN is true)[[Roller Hill]]] <audio src="https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0?ui=2&ik=2296ea3f9a&attid=0.1&permmsgid=msg-a:r-8871786123988392223&th=18efd52e3aa296c0&view=att&disp=safe&realattid=f_lv8l7hpy0" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.8))[The following morning the caravan promptly continues it's journey to Roller Hill. You're less than a days ride away now, and starting to feel anxious about what you're about to do. You've been in many high stakes negotiations, but never been assigned to kill anyone. You went to the University of Bolci to learn how to debate, not how to end someone's life. You start to sweat. The reality of your agreement weighs on you, but you imagine all the people you are protecting. //For the greater good//, you think. A shout from the wagon in front snaps you out of your negative thoughts. "Up ahead!" You hop out of the wagon and jog to the front of the line. The road opens up immensely in front of you, nearly four times the size it was a mile back. It winds its way forward, and in the distance you see many plumes of smoke twirling in the sky, and the grey haze only a big city can create. Barely half an hour later you are gathering your things and thanking the guard members for the safe passage. You shake hands with a few of the other people in the group. It is a bittersweet goodbye, as a few days on a long road brings people as close as old friends. Now, it is likely you will never see these people again. Thus is the way of the world, you suppose. Travel can bring together the most unlikely people, then tear them apart just as easily. Looking around, you are impressed by the organized streets, all labeled with signs and not dirtied with sewage and trash. You assume you are in the nicer part of town. You have simple directions written on the envelope that contains your writ of business "from the Governor". Time to find the President's Estate.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Drink the antidote]] [[Follow the directions to the President's Estate]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You shake your head. "Alik," the man says scathingly, "have you brought me the wrong person //again//?" There is an uncomfortable silence from the men around the table. The guard who saved you speaks up anxiously, "No sir. I was there. This is him. Poor fellow hit his head on the way out of the tavern. You can see the bandage on his left temple!" "Well," the man turns back to you, "is this true? Did you meet with the Governor in the afternoon?"] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [["No sir"]] [["Yes sir"]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You decide there isn't much you can do, and you sit on a pathetic blanket in the corner of your cell. You try your best to wrap it around you, but it tears and you're left to hold yourself close on the cold stone. Your head throbs. It feels like they bandaged you up before throwing you in this damp dungeon. You gaze up at the light from the window, and drift in and out of a daze, eventually falling into a deep sleep.] [[Hours later]]

This game changes based on the decisions you make. Talking to people or investigating events can give you arguments to be used in the future. (bg:black)[ [[The Inn: Corral Reef]] ] (set: $FOURMEN to false) (set: $DRUNK to false) (set: $WOMAN to false) (set: $MAPMEN to false) (set: $POKEFUN to false) (set: $ASSASSIN to false) (set: $RELIGIONARG to false) (set: $PEOPLEARG to false) (set: $GOBLINARG to false) (set: $STRUGGLEARG to false) (set: $CORRUPTARG to false)

(bg:(hsl:0,0.8039,0.5,0.9))[You step into the clearing, and the whispering gains clarity. It is no language you've heard before, even from your linguistic studies background. It feels ancient. The red light swells as you stumble closer across the clearing. The language in your ears begins to make sense. "This was always your calling," it says. "This was always the way." You fall to your knees in front of the light. "Give your life to me," the voice feels like twisting wind now, "I calm storms, I shift mountains. I can stop your little war. Give yourself TO ME." Your eyes are wide now, reflecting the red light that swells in front of your kneeled figure. Deep in a dusty corner of your mind, your rationality throws itself against the bars of a glowing red cage. //This is magic! Real magic! There is no coming back from this! Snap out of it!// it yells. But your body does not yell. Instead, you stand up and make a deep bow to the light. You turn, and there is one of the figures from the circle standing behind you. They hold out a folded robe, all the while whispering. You undress, and accept the robe, wrapping it around you and pulling the hood up. Underneath, even though you are now facing away from the light, your eyes glow red.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 2/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You step into the alley. There is a dirty, rag-adorned boy that can't be older than 9 cowering against the wall behind him. A city guard clothed in richly dyed purple cloth stands over the boy, his hand raised. It is the perfect picture of juxtaposition. The rich and the poor. The beater and the beaten. The lion and the sheep. Surprisingly the guard does not hear you. The boy however, looks past the guard at you with wide eyes. His hands are trembling. "Honest?" The guard scoffs as he brings his hand down in a hard fist on the boy's cheek. "You street urchins are the furthest creature from honest." He spits the last sentence as the boy crumples. Kneeling down, the guard begins to feel the boys pockets. He takes off one of the boy's socks, revealing a single silver coin. "This is all I get for my troubles," you hear him mutter as he pockets the coin.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave before he turns around]] [[Confront the guard about what he's done]]]

(bg:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You decide it would be best to step outside and clear your head before continuing. You hop down the steps on the tavern and onto the cobbled street, breathing in the fresh air. It is probably unwise to keep the Governor waiting like this, but you're glad for the quick break to calm your nerves. Go back inside and] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Meet with the Governor]] [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_bfff054ed9c74c7b9d8220adf0b30ac4.m4a" autoplay>

(if: $ANTIDOTE is false)[(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You touch the glass to your lips, suddenly remembering the vial of dark liquid sitting in your bag, still full. The antidote. It is too late now. You gag slightly on the purple liquid but swallow all the same. A drop dribbles down your chin. "Are you alright?" The President asks, setting down her half finished glass. "Fine." You say, but a cold sweat has spread across your body. "I'm alright." "It is quite delectable," she says. "I can hardly blame y-" Her words are cut short by a sharp inhalation. She clutches her chest, tearing at her shirt. Stumbling backwards, she trips over the carpet and falls violently to the floor, writhing. You begin to feel it too. An immense pressure on your chest, spreading beyond your heart. It feels as if your veins will burst. You look down at your hands, and they are red with pressure. You gargle something unintelligible as you slump to the cold stone floor.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 11/11]] ]] (if: $ANTIDOTE is true)[(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You touch the glass to your lips, thinking back to a couple hours ago when you drank the antidote. You remember the bitter, minty taste in your mouth. Comforted by this, you confidently finish your glass. It really is delicious wine. "It is a perfect blend of earthy and fruity. Don't you think?" The President prompts you. "While I typically dislike the earthy wines, I have to agree. It is quite delectable." You reply, watching her intently. She chuckles, "You read my mind, I was going to say the same th-" Her words are cut short by a sharp inhalation. She clutches her chest, tearing at her shirt. Stumbling backwards, she trips over the carpet and falls violently to the floor, writhing. The last thing she sees are your dark leather boots walking towards her. You watch as she convulses for half a minute before her body comes to a still.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 10/11]]] ]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You use your free hands to take the bag off of your head. As you consider making a run for it with your sight returned, one of the men grabs your arms again. "Just what do you think you're doin'." He says in a burly voice. "It's alright, we're already here anyway," the guard who saved you says. He opens a door in front of the group and everyone steps inside. You are pulled along with the man holding you. The room is cramped, illuminated fully by a small number of candles on a large round table in the center of the space. Some crude chairs surround the table, and a new figure sits in one of them. He is middle-aged, with a tanned complexion and streaks of silver in his dark brown hair. You are pushed into a seat. The other men sit. "So you are the one who was thrown in jail for politely refusing a Governor's wish?" The mystery man speaks, his voice filling the small room.] (bg:black)[ [[Nod]] [[Shake your head]]]

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You crumble like stone beneath a dwarven hammer. You tell her of the Governor and your refusal to do the job. You tell her how you were rescued from jail only to be initiated into this assassination attempt. You explain how the Myraes told you about her supposed master plan. How they gave you the wine and set you up for this meeting. Once you finish, she is silent for a long while, digesting the information. She paces slowly around the table, eventually ending up behind you. The hair on your neck stands up as she pushes your chair towards the wall. There is a painting staring down at you. "Tell me what you see," she says. The painting is in the style of a Hentracolian portrait. The style of paintings used to portray Hentracolian gods was eventually adopted to create portraits of regular people. That happened centuries ago, and it was rare to find portraits of the gods anymore. Despite this, you have no doubt that this is the god of knowledge. The painting seems to portray a library stretching on forever. A man sits at a desk with a multitude of scientific instruments strewn about its wooden surface. He is reading. "I believe this is Dehlat, the god of knowledge." You say slowly, hoping you don't seem foolish. "Indeed," she whispers in your ear. "You and him have something in common today." You begin to turn your head to question what she means, but she places a strong hand on your hair and twists your head back towards the painting. "What do you mean, Madam?" You ask weakly. "Today," her breath carresses the back of your ear. "You know too much."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[ [[Ending 9/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))[You smell the familiar smell of wood and something cooking in a pot. You've chosen a cozy inn in Corral. As a traveling diplomat, this is a setting you are used to. You arrived just a half hour ago, and placed your things in your room. Your next plan was to go meet the Governor of Corral for your appointed meeting. The letter you recieved was smeared from rain, so the address of your meeting is illegible. You have a short amount of time to kill, but you should probably figure out where your meeting is going to be. You walk down the stairs of the Inn, and gaze around the large, lamplit dining area. The Innkeeper nods to you from behind the bar as you walk in. Four men sit at a table hartily chatting over drinks, one the figure's feet don't quite reach the floor. A dark figure stands alone to the side smoking a pipe. He is somewhat concealed by shadow, but you can see he is swaying lightly. Undoubtedly intoxicated. A solemn woman who looks like she's waiting for someone sits alone at a booth on the wall. In the corner, two men are chatting at a small table. They are pointing down to a map in front of them and talking loudly, clearly disagreeing on something.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:90,0.7944,0.2098,0.8))[You wake bleary eyed, trying to remember where you are. Once you regain your mind from sleep's grasp, you pack your writ of business, wine bottle, and antidote into your travel sack and head to the meeting place the Myraes showed you yesterday. You see the familiar wagons, along with a few wealthy looking travelers. Your company for the next 7 days. The caravan hits the road a half hour later, and you are offically bumping your way along to Roller Hill for your "meeting". Progress is swift, and the wagoneer's timing is flawless. The first 6 days go by in a blink. That is until your first hiccup, as the evening turns dark on the 6th day, before the group can find an Inn. You had noticed lodging was appearing fewer and further between, but you were sure something would pop up before the night closed in. Fortunately, you have become somewhat of a spokesperson for the group of travelers, and so you're in control of the group's decision. It's fully dark now, and the wagons stop to discuss the next course of action. You hear nervous mutterings from some of your fellow passengers.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Camp in the woods]] [[Push on in the dark to the next town]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_3b1e7bfdb72d4153a5ffc645948e9813.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:31,1,0.0902,0.9))[The next day you rise. It seems you have significantly over-slept, not that you had anything to get up for. You groggily make your way down to the dining room and pay for a cold breakfast, as it is already around lunch time. More people are around the room than the day before, and the Inn is filled with the pleasant sound of a bustling Innkeeper and happy customers. Only a few bites into your meal, you hear a commotion through the walls coming from the street. Without warning, the door of the Inn bursts open, startling everyone inside. A young boy peaks inside and yells in a high pitched voice. "The President! She's declared war on Caranor!" As quickly as he entered, he dissapears back to the street, and you hear his yelling fade as he moves away from the Inn. You lay your head down in your arms on the table and close your eyes. //Failed//, you think. //What would mother and father say?//] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 3/11]]]

(bg:(hsl:30,0.8039,0.5,0.7))["Hullo ther fellas! I over-heart yous twos talkin about a problem with the crop?" Their eyes narrow and you see Bills mouth curl into a twisted frown. Your attempt at a fake accent seems to have been a major flop. "I don't know what yer playin at pretty-boots, but you better take the game yonder," The older man says, his tone a mix of irritation and fatigue. That couldn't have gone much worse. //Probably best to try someone else, I doubt they'll know where to find the governor anyway// you think.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Leave the tavern in search of the Governor]] [[Approach Innkeeper]] (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0.2588,0.65))[You turn away from the guard, muttering some unsavory words for him under your breath. Even if he was telling the truth about the boy being jumped, its no reason to beat him and pick his pockets. Its unsettling to see the corruption of the city unmasked so close to the President's home. The boy whimpers and stirs at the end of the alley. He starts to rise as you slowly approach to check on the blow to his head. You're halfway down the alley when he stands up, swaying slightly. "Were you really being chased by older boys?" You ask. He looks at you with feral eyes. You realize he has no way of knowing how you knew that, and the last person who knew that beat him and took his money. Despite this, he still nods his head slowly. His eyes dart around, analyzing the walls, the floor, trash, and you. There is a surprising quickness in his gaze. It feels almost as if he is clever beyond his years. You open your mouth to ask his age when he bolts. Except, there is nowhere to bolt. He runs straight at you, and you are barely able to move out of the way before he would've run straight into you. You turn as he flies past and watch his dirty feet pelt off the cobblestone and turn the corner at the end of the alley. With a sigh, you walk back to the street. There is no sign of the boy.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Give up everything and lay down on the cobbled street]] [[Continue to the President's Estate]]]

You follow the innkeeper's advice and turn back to the inn to see if there's anybody you else you want to talk to, besides the innkeeper of course. (bg:black)[ (if: $FOURMEN is false)[[Approach the 4 men chatting]] (if: $DRUNK is false)[[Approach the solo inebriated man]] (if: $WOMAN is false)[[Approach the solemn woman]] (if: $MAPMEN is false)[[Approach the men arguing over a map]] [[Nevermind, you want to continue your conversation with the Innkeeper]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_f2776a2cc9f44423bb9f3a07d3bfeeba.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.7))[You wake up, shivering. Your head is pounding and you feel a large bump under your hair. The air around you is cold and damp. The only lightsource comes from above you. You look up to see walls stretching upwards for over 40 feet. The light is coming from a grate in the side of the wall behind you, and barely illuminates the area around you. You hear the distant sounds of wagon wheels and street chatter from the grate's opening. There must be a street up there. You are undoubtedly in a cell, although there is no door you can see. Just four walls of dark, smooth stone around you and a floor of black bricks. It appears the Governor has had you locked away in a deep part of the city.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Sit and wait, what else can you do?]] [[Call out to the street through the grate]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_351b1bb2a87c4479af2ee9ddb9cfc820.m4a" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:90,0.7944,0.2098,0.8))[You wake bleary eyed, trying to remember where you are. Once you regain your mind from sleep's grasp, you pack your few things in a travel sack and head to the meeting place the Governor showed you yesterday. The familiar faces of the guards are waiting for you, along with a few wealthy looking travelers. Your company for the next 7 days. The caravan hits the road a half hour later, and you are offically bumping your way along to Roller Hill for your meeting. Progress is swift, and the wagoneer's timing is flawless. The first 6 days go by in a blink. That is until your first hiccup, as the evening turns dark on the 6th day, before the group can find an Inn. You had noticed lodging was appearing fewer and further between, but you were sure something would pop up before the night closed in. Fortunately, you have become somewhat of a spokesperson for the group of travelers, and so you're in control of the group's decision. It's fully dark now, and the wagons stop to discuss the next course of action. You hear nervous mutterings from some of your fellow passengers.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Camp in the woods]] [[Push on in the dark to the next town]]] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_3b1e7bfdb72d4153a5ffc645948e9813.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:210,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You stutter a little before going totally silent. The president stares at you, seemingly dumbfounded. "Seriously? Were you sent as a mockery?" She says. "Sorry, I just can't think of any strong points to make. Your reasoning was rather straightforward, and I understand why you would turn to the conflict.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[I don't know if war is the right answer however."]] [[In fact, I agree with why you would turn to war."]]]

Ethal's origins differ depending on who tells the story, but most educated people agree its true origin is unknown. This is the same for the origin of the people and creatures of the world. The longest recorded history is held by the Elves, but there are many races that inhabit the globe. The Elves have many cities, but their majority resides in or is from (bg:black)[ [[Khanate of Burenia]]] (Khanate meaning 'kingdom' in the elven language). The majority of Dwarves are from the (bg:black)[ [[Kingdom of Obynx]]], and humans come from all over. Ethal has an ancient history, and its people are no different. There are three major religions that can be found across the two land masses. (bg:black)[ [[Goesin]]], (bg:black)[ [[Hintracolian]]], and (bg:black)[ [[Linthal]]]. Roughly 40 percent of the worlds population is atheist, and the other 60 percent is divided among the other three religions. The evil creatures of the world are thought to worship a diety known as (bg:black)[ [[Droris]]].

Major Countries: [[The Principality of Caranor]] [[Inlgatia]] [[Ingdom of Ontematia]] [[Kingdom of Stokland]] [[Kingdom of Obynx]] [[Khanate of Burenia]] Minor Countries: [[Principality of Segnia]] [[Petralia]] [[The Grand Duchy of Erma]] [[The Grand Duchy of Pinderia]] [[Unacedan Eocracy]] [[Epublic F Thailac]] [[Kingdom of Walania]] [[Incipality of Kusburgia]] [[Principality of Somesa]] [[Empakian Heocracy]]

(bg:#295200)[For context, please read the following passage which explains how how you were raised in this world. You were brought up as a single child in a well off family. Born and raised in Wistower, a city in the (bg:#122400)[ [[Ingdom of Ontematia]]]. You had a regular childhood, playing outside and coming home dirty and tired. You went through regular schooling, somewhat excelling in libreral arts. When you came of age, your parents decided to invest in your education, and sent you to the University of Bolci, 50 miles south. You lived in the capitol city, Bolci, and became a professional diplomat and lobbyist. You took your profession to the road and have been a traveling diplomat for almost 7 years, and you are nearing your 30th year of life. Recently, you were contacted for a meeting with the Governor of Corral, the capitol of (bg:#122400)[ [[The Principality of Caranor]]]. You were visiting your parents in your home town when you recieve the summoning, and you took the safest roads to Corral, stopping at comfortable inns to sleep and enjoying the scenery along your way. Eventually, you reach Corral and find a comfortable inn to store your things and have a bed for the night. You read the sign above the door as it sways slightly in the wind. It reads: "Corral Reef: locals, travelers, and madmen welcome." //Clever name//, you think to yourself, ignoring the madmen part.] (bg:black)[ [[Start The Game]] ] <audio src="https://static.wixstatic.com/mp3/72bafb_daee80cfdedc4d1ea49a1cc74d5fef29.mp3" autoplay>

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You crane your neck to look backwards, the cold stone pressing painfully into your skull. Squinting your eyes, you see a small shadowy figure protruding slightly from an alleyway 5 yards down the street. You can make out a torn up dress flowing lightly off the figure in the breeze.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Call out]] [[Keep quiet]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[In the darkness, you hear a the faint slapping of bare feet on the cobblestone. The sound fades, as whoever was running leaves you far behind. After lying on the dusty street for a whole night, you are finally approached by a burly man in some official looking gear. Looks like someone called the city guard on you. The man grabs you easily by the arm and throws you in a barred cart. With no hope left in your soul, you accept the ride, and bounce along the city streets for a few hours before breaking into the country side. The sun is shining beautfully over cultivated fields. The golden shine of wheat reflects off the bars confining you to the cart. Eventually you roll to a stop, and the man drags you along an oddly fine path. If you had cared enough to lift your head, you would've seen a large, monochrome grey slate building looming over you and the guard. You are tossed onto a cot in a small room. The walls are all grey, and the only other things in the room are another cot and a hole cut into the stone corner of the room. A rancid smells drifts from the holes direction. You look up to see a gangly hunched, squatting man on the cot across from you. His posture reminds you of a squirrel standing on a railing. His eyes are wide and unblinking. His hair is in utter dissaray, and it seems as if he is incapable of keeping his hands still for even a moment. "Hiya hiya hiya hiya," he yaps at you enthusiastically waving the whole time, "hiya hiya! You got the good room. We got the good room! The cracker! I guess we're the cracked!" He laughs at what you can only assume was an attempt at a joke. He continues while turning towards the wall, "We're too strong for them. Too weak perhaps! Unsafe anyhow! Welcome welcome!" His head snaps back towards your cot and his wide eyes focus on you again, as if for the first time. "Hiya hiya hiya hiya," he gibbers with his ever waving hands,"you're new. I'm not new, but I knew you were new. Knew new knew new knew! All the same, but so different. All of us, all the same."] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 1/11]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You call out to her. "Hey!" Something about her movements stops you from saying anymore. She turns slowly towards the sound of your voice. Slowly moving out to the street, you notice a tattered red dress flowing in the light night breeze. It appears to be a little girl. She’s staring at you, or at least it seems she is facing you. Her face is shrouded in a strange shadow.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Get up and approach her]] [[Watch from the ground]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[As you look on, the figure slowly moves out into the street. It appears to be a little girl. She’s staring at you, or at least it seems she is facing you. Her face is shrouded in a strange shadow.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Get up and approach her]] [[Watch from the ground]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You decide it best to not move. Watching from your warped perspective from the ground, the girl seems to move unnaturally. She is in the open now, fully facing you. Her face is still shrouded in shadow, despite the lamplight illuminating the rest of her. She does a light pirouette, then stops. She is absolutely still. The sounds of a whisper float toward you from her shrouded face. It's a low sound. Too low. Her head cocks to the right, and at the same moment the oil street lamps around you snuff out... Ignore this strange anomaly and] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Truly give up]] or [[Roll over, but stay on the ground in an action ready position]]]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You decide it best to move. Rolling over quietly, you try to keep your eyes on the girl. She seems to move unnaturally as she shuffles into the open street now, fully facing you. Her face is still shrouded in shadow, despite the lamplight illuminating the rest of her. She does a light pirouette, then stops. You take a few slow paces backwards. She is absolutely still. The sounds of a whisper float toward you from her shrouded face. It is indecipherable. A slow exhale. It is a low sound. Too low for a little girl. Memories of your mother's campfire stories flood into your mind from long ago. The night crawlers... The shufflers... All the demons which could get you for breaking little rules. They'd steal your soul for lying to your parents. But those were just stories. Right? The girl's head cocks to a sharp right angle, and at the same moment the oil lamps around you snuff out... The street goes dark, with the only light coming from a sliver of silver moon.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [["Are you alright?"]] [[Stay silent]] [[Turn and bolt]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You roll over to your stomach. You silently observe. Squinting in the dark, you hear the sound of bare feet on stone as the silhouette of the girl runs away from you down the street. An innocent laugh sweetly swirls into your ears from her direction. A few thoughts float through your head as you watch her go. Sometimes there are dark forces in this world better left alone, but sometimes children play silly games. If she is alone, she should not be out this late. Perhaps she just needs guidance. You think back to your mothers stories, and long for the comfort of home as well. It wouldn't be a bad time to take some time away from work. It doesn't feel like this Corral job is going to work out anyway. As you contemplate, the shadow of the girl slips away as she turns a corner near the end of the street. Your mind feels fuzzy, and you get a strong urge to follow her.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Follow her]] [[Turn and bolt]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You call out the question. "Are you alright?" White teeth shine through the shadow over the girls face. It is a large grin, almost glowing in the dark. Your stomach churns. As your eyes adjust to the light, the girl's face becomes visible. She has no eyes and no nose. Where all the features of a normal person would be there is only smooth skin with thin pale scars reflecting in the moonlight, besides her barred tooth grin. The street seems to darken further despite the moonlight, and your eyes start to itch. They begin to burn. You rub them, but the feeling only gets worse, and it spreads around your face. You feel your nose, and you feel the cartiledge crumble beneath your fingers. Scartching now, tears streaming down your face, you cannot escape the pain. As your fingers become wet with blood, the image of the scarred girl is burned into your mind.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 13/13]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You run as if your life depends on it. As you round a corner at the end of the street, you glance back the way you came. The area is shrouded in a thick shadow, and there is a faint red glow beyond. It could have been the tattered dress, but you only catch a glimpse before you continue your sprint through the silent streets of Corral. The little girl's breathy whisper replays itself in your ears as you slow to a halt underneath a street lamp and slump against the stone wall of a building. Perhaps you never should have taken this job. Corral has not welcomed you as you had hoped. Something strange is happening in this city, and you want no part of it.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Return home to your parents in Wistower]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You silently observe. Squinting in the dark, you hear the sound of bare feet on stone as the silhouette of the girl runs away from you down the street. An innocent laugh sweetly swirls into your ears from her direction. A few thoughts float through your head as you watch her go. Sometimes there are dark forces in this world better left alone, but sometimes children play silly games. If she is alone, she should not be out this late. Perhaps she just needs guidance. You think back to your mothers stories, and long for the comfort of home as well. It wouldn't be a bad time to take some time away from work. It doesn't feel like this Corral job is going to work out anyway. As you contemplate, the shadow of the girl slips away as she turns a corner near the end of the street.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Run after her]] [[Return home to your parents in Wistower]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[After a long session of contemplation, you decide it is probably best if you take a long holiday. It only takes half an hour of wandering to find a nearby Inn. A sleep deprived innkeeper leads you to a room for the night. In the morning you will take the first wagon to Wistower. It will be nice to visit family anyway. You have been on the road long enough!] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 12/12]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You return home to your parents, who are delighted to see you. A homecooked meal puts you in good spirits, and soon you forget all about your previous job. "It isn't like the fate of two countries was really in your hands was it!" Your dad says as he pats you gently on the shoulder. It sure is good to be on holiday.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You run after the girl. She's quick, but not that quick. You trail at a short distance as she leads you to the edge of the city. Dark woods loom beyond, and a faint red glow can be seen far off into the treeline. Curiousity gets the better of you, and you plunge forward. You have an unwavering sense that you must follow this girl to whatever end. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Enter the Woods]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You have died in the streets of Corral. A strange spirit now possesses your body, wandering the streets on the darkest nights, looking to transfer hosts.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You follow the girl. She's quick, but not that quick. You trail at a short distance as she leads you to the edge of the city. Dark woods loom beyond, and a faint red glow can be seen far off into the treeline. Curiousity gets the better of you, and you plunge forward. You have an unwavering sense that you must follow this girl to whatever end.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Enter the Woods]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You plunge into the foilage after the girl. Not ten paces later you come to a stop. The girl is nowhere in sight. The forest is strangly silent. There is no breeze, and the treetops seem to dim the moonlight to an unnatural dark. You are breathing heavy now, and your head feels fuzzier than before. It is almost as if you are dreaming, but you know you cannot be. The darkness thickens. A twig snaps behind you.] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Turn Around]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You slowly turn around, exhaling a sigh of relief. A large stag looms a few yards away, seemingly grazing from the forest floor. The moment you breath your sigh of relief, you feel cold fingers wrap around your face, covering your mouth. A sharp pain flares across your neck, and your shirt begins to feel wet with a warm oozing liquid. You inhale sharply in surprise, but no air comes through. Gargling, the grip on you loosens and you stumble to the dirt clutching your throat. Your hands shine crimson with the red of your blood. The stag runs. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[Ending 14/14]] ]

(bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.05))[You have died in the forest outside Corral. Your body is never found. ] (bg:(hsl:0,0,0,0.65))[ [[RESTART]] ]