<div class="title-screen">
<p style="text-align: center;"><h1>SilverBound</h1>
<i>A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Survival Romance </i></p>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><h3>Dome-IV</h3></p>
You were born inside Dome-IV, one of the last remaining strongholds to survive the radioactive fallout that wiped out nearly all life on earth. You scrape by a meager existence, clining to the threads of what's left of civilization. Food, water, the right to lay with another and reproduce- everthing is regulated by The Stratum.
As a soldier, your life is simple. You keep the perimter just outside the dome safe from renegade factions, rogue bandits, and, above all, The Marked Ones- beings that were once human, now changed by the radioactive waste. But when The Stratum sends you on a mission to the edge of the earth, right on the fringes of The Wasteland, to make contact with a unit of scavengers they haven't heard from for weeks, what you find there changes everything. What starts as a mystery becomes a fight for survival- and, more importantly, love.
<b>SilverBound</b> is a post-apocalyptic dystopian survival romance where every choice the player makes brings them closer to the truth- or death. Play with 5 character stats: hunger, thirst, stamina, body temperature, and radioactivity, each of which must be managed as the player navigates the desolate, unforgiving desert wastelands. Uncover the secrets of Dome-IV in a branching narrative where every choice matters.
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><h3>Romance Options</h3></p>
<p class="dark-blue"><p style="text-align: center;"><h4>Hayden</h4></p></p>
The only person in Dome-IV that ever truly held your heart, you thought he was dead. His whole until was decimated in a scavenging trip gone wrong- or at least that's what they told you. But the things we lose to The Wastelands don't always stay buried. Sometimes, instead, they come back changed...He used to say he would die for you. But is he still the same boy that promised you the world?
<p class="dark-blue"><p style="text-align: center;"><h4>Prophet</h4></p></p>
Fifth Templar to The Oracle, Prophet has been tasked with overseeing your mission to The Outpost. The moment you lay eyes on him, you know you're going to hate him. And you do. He's confident, commanding, insufferbaly self assured, and doesn't shy away from a challenge every time you push back against his orders. In fact, he <i>almost</i> seems to enjoy it. When you two are forced to rely on one another to survive, the flames between you only grow. Still, he’s a Templar. Loyal to the Oracle. Loyal to the Stratum. Can you really trust him?
<p class="dark-blue"><p style="text-align: center;"><h4>Zander</h4></p></p>
Zander is the son of your late Father's best friend. He's never been particularly friendly with you. In fact, he almost seems to avoid you. His coldness towards you stands in sharp contrast to the easy charm he shows everyone else. It’s hard not to take it personally. But his actions are more honest than his words. With enough discernment, you may be able to uncover the truth behind the up-and-coming Scavenger Commander's actions… and why he’s always keeping you at arm’s length.
<p class="dark-blue"><p style="text-align: center;"><h4>Jax</h4></p></p>
Jax has been your best friend for the last ten years. He's always been there for you. He held you together when your father died, and later, when you lost Hayden to The Wastelands. You're used to his casual flirtations by now. And when The Templars made him a breeder, it seemed like a natural fit. But everyone has secrets in Dome IV. And behind Jax's silver tongue and roguish charm, his weighted gaze hides a truth that's been eating him up inside ever since The Templars assigned him to a role that made the only thing he's ever wanted off limits: you.
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><h3>Customize your Character</h3></p>
Choose your character's name, pronouns, hair color, eye color, skin color, and height. The choices you make throughout the game will determine what type of survivor you are and shape your character's personality. Choose to play while pursuing love, or forego romance and focus on carving out your place in Dome IV and uncovering the secrets hidden in The Wastelands.
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<p><p style="text-align: center;"><i>Who will you become in your fight for survival among the desert wastes? And what price will you be willing to pay for the cost of love?
Playing with headphones is highly recommended.</i></p>
<!-- Navigation Buttons -->
<div style="text-align: center;">
<<link "Start Game">><<goto "Name">><</link>>
<<link "Credits">><<goto "Credits">><</link>>
</div>
<p style="text-align: center;"><h1>Chapter One</h1></p>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<h3>Dome-IV, Sector C</h3>
<p style="text-align: center;"><i>Once upon a time, before the white light scorched the earth, life was abundant outside of the domes.
Humans lived freely. Breathed unfiltered air, without the help of masks, and lived in cities filled with buildings that dissapeared into the clouds. Not the clouds we have now, filled with radioactive waste. White, whispy clouds, blown about by crisp winds cleaner than the air filtered through the puriffying chambers.
There were animals of all shapes and sizes, and forests and rivers runneth over with waters undiluted. All life on earth lived in harmony, blessed by the protection of The Great One. But then, one day, the white light came.
No one knows why. What we did to incur the wrath of what was to come. Only that what followed would reign hell on earth.
First the deserts came. Swaths of uninhabitable wasteland that spread till they engulfed the cities and the forests. Then, the marked ones. Those changed by the fallout from the white light. There were many that died during this time. But what became of the marked ones was a fate worse than death. Burdened to forever carry the sins of our punishment in the form of creatures gripped by malformity and madness.
They still linger outside the domes. On the outskirts and in the shadows. Their presence is one of the reasons we stay inside the dome.
Among many others. </i></p>
You hoist your bag over your shoulder and watch the elder from your spot against the wall. You've heard this story many times. Usually from one of the elders. The details vary depending who tells the tale. But the overarching moral is always the same...
[[Stay inside the dome. Because the only thing that exists beyond its walls is death.|Stay inside the dome]]
[[Actions have consequences, so choose carefully. You never know what impact your choices will have.|Choose carefully]]
[[The world may change, but people will always try to use fear as a form of control.|Fear as control]]
[[History is written by its victors. Don't believe everything you hear.|History rewritten]]
Stay inside the dome. Because the only thing that exists beyond its walls is death.
And, for those especially unlucky, an eternal one.
You know this truth better than most. You have lived with it. Slept with it. Dreamt of it and woke up screaming in the night, calling out the name of the only person that ever made you feel safe.
Only to remember that The Wastelands took him from you. That he was never coming back. And that you will never feel as safe as you did with him, even within these walls.
<<set $resilience+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|finishpacking]] Actions have consequences, so choose carefully. You never know what impact your choices will have. Too ofen, people are reckless with their hearts and their words. Most don't truly understand the damage they've caused till it's already done.
<<set $caution+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|finishpacking]] The world may change, but people will always try to use fear as a form of control. You aren't sure how much truth there is to The Origin Story the Elders have passed down for centuries, but you understand one thing. Despite what they'd have you believe, it is no morality story.
It serves an entirely different purpose.
To remind young, impressionable minds curious- or foolish- enough to wonder what exists beyond the walls of the dome that- whatever's out there- they should fear it.
<<set $wisdom+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|finishpacking]] History is written- <i>usually rewritten</i>- by its victors. Don't believe everything you hear.
Human nature being as it is, you have no doubt that the <i>why</i> of what led to the apocalypse that forced what was left of humanity into domes was just as wicked and depraved as what was left behind in its wake.
You should know, after all. You're one of them. The chosen few natural selection deemed strong enough to survive the fallout.
And you have.
But not without consequences.
<<set $wisdom+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|finishpacking]] "You ready?"
You turn to your right and give Russell, Commander of the Fourth Squadron, a small nod. Usually he's in charge of your unit, a small handful of men and women- a platoon of trained soldiers that patroll the perimeter just outside Dome-IV. They keep the things in the desert at bay and protect the people inside.
But your mission today is different. Something that requires discretion, per direct orders from The Stratum themselves.
"You remember what I told you, right?"
You resist the urge to sigh. Of course you remember. Russell has been repeating the same mantra ever since you'd been told who your small group for the mission would consist of.
[[Play nice.|Play nice]]
[[Try and make friends.|Try and make friends]]
[[Grin and bear it.|Grin and bear it]]
[[No friendly fire...unless he really deserves it.|No friendly fire]] "Play nice." You repeat the words dismissively. Usually this type of insubordination would be met with punishment from The Stratum. But you've known Russell since you were a kid. The seasoned commander had been friends with your father. And then after, a steadying presence that grounded you in the wake of your father's death.
<<set $empathy+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|It'll be alright]] "Try and make friends." You roll your eyes. Sometimes he still talks to you like you're a child instead of a battle hardened survivor- someone who's fought and bled for Dome-IV.
It's not like you don't have social skills. You're just selective about when you use them. <i>Highly selective.</i>
[[Continue|It'll be alright]] "Grin and bear it." That's what he'd told you, anyways. But that was easier said than done. Especially when the nightmares were getting so much worse. You knew Russel meant well- truly. And you would try, for him.
But that was all you could promise- an honest effort. Nothing certain.
<<set $resilience+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|It'll be alright]] "No friendly fire...unless he really deserves it."
The worry that furrows Russels brow almost makes you feel bad. You were only joking. Mostly. You have no plans of going out of your way to kill him. But if a stray bullet happens to fly from your gun and graze one of his major arteries, you can't be held accountable.
<<set $charisma+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|It'll be alright]] "Come on <<print $playerName>>, it won't be that bad."
"I'll be fine as long as he keeps his distance."
Russell sighs and claps you on the shoulder. "You know we can't do that. We're already going to have a hard time with just the five of us. We're going to have to work together if we want to make it to The Outpost in one peice."
The fact that you know Russell is right is the only thing that keeps you from arguing. Instead, you cast a cursory glance out across the crumbling cityscape. Brittle brick structures line the main street, their cracked exteriors patched with strips of worn and tattered fabric. The hearty aroma of salted meat and vegetables from the stalls that line the marketplace mixes with the stale recycled air. They are familiar hallmarks to the dome you call home.
Dome-IV.
Back when you were a child, there had been seven domes. But by the time you'd been old enough to wonder what lay outside the dome, three had fallen. The four that remained were scattered throughout the desert, so far from one another that contact between the domes was rare. Traversing the wastelands that separated the domes was a peril part taken only during times of extreme scarcity and drought.
And for good reason.
Men could survive the heat and the dirt. Even the hunger and the thirst could be endured for a time. But few that entered the wastelands ever returned. And those that did were forever changed. Marked for death. Only the strongest made it to the other domes to deliver their message before succumbing to to the madness that plagued those touched by the fallout.
"You good?" Russell raises a brow, concern etched in the worry wrinkles that frame his worn brown eyes.
[[Let's just go.|Let's just go]]
[[Yeah, I'll be alright.|Yeah, I'll be alright]]
[[I'm fine..|I'm fine]]
[[No, but it doesn't matter.|No, but it doesn't matter]]
"Yeah, I'll be alright." You clear your throat and bat at the sweat on your brow. The sun has just barely risen over the sandy dunes, and the heat is already scorching. By the time you slip on your radioactive suits and began the trek to the outpost, the heat will be almost unbearable.
But that was the least of your concerns, given the nature of the mission.
<<set $empathy+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Lets go]] "I'm fine." You clear your throat and bat at the sweat on your brow. The sun has just barely risen over the sandy dunes, and the heat is already scorching. By the time you slip on your radioactive suits and began the trek to the outpost, the heat will be almost unbearable.
But that was the least of your concerns, given the nature of the mission.
<<set $charisma+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Lets go]] "No, but it doesn't matter." You clear your throat and bat at the sweat on your brow. The sun has just barely risen over the sandy dunes, and the heat is already scorching. By the time you slip on your radioactive suits and began the trek to the outpost, the heat will be almost unbearable.
But that was the least of your concerns, given the nature of the mission.
<<set $wisdom+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Lets go]] "Lets just go." You clear your throat and bat at the sweat on your brow. The sun has just barely risen over the sandy dunes, and the heat is already scorching. By the time you slip on your radioactive suits and began the trek to the outpost, the heat will be almost unbearable.
But that was the least of your concerns, given the nature of the mission.
[[Continue|Lets go]] "Let's go. We're going to be late if we don't leave now. The rest of the group is probably already at The Gate."
You nod and follow Russell through the narrow, pebbled streets. You keep one had on the bone dagger at your waist, more out of habit than anything else.
Throngs of orphan children line the alleys as you walk- most keep their distance. They might try to steal a few scraps of meat from your pack if you weren't a soldier. But, even as young as they are, most know better. The Stratum rations food fairly, if not sparsely. The punishment for eating more than your fair share rarely outweighed the risk.
Only The Templars and the soldiers are granted a daily allowance of salted meat from the market stalls. The rest subsist on vegetables and grains. It was one of the main reasons why most children volunteered to become soldiers when they were old enough to wield a blade. Staving off the incessant hunger that hollowed their bellies and brittled their bones was a weighty comfort in a world that offered few.
"Why is he coming with us anyways? He's going to be more of a liability than anything else." You ask, turning back towards Russel.
Russell casts a backwards glance at you. "You know why. And besides, he knows his way around a blade. At least from what I've heard."
"Please." You scoff. "His father was a Templar. Just like he is. We'll be lucky if he can wield a blade without cutting himself." You make no effort to hide the bitterness in your voice. Your eyes drift to the throngs of orphan children, bony limbs and gaunt cheeks smeared with dirt and sacrament.
The Stratum had tasked The Templars with caring for them when their numbers became too many. But they'd done little for the children, aside from an empty blessing and a stiff cot. Who could blame them for stealing the occasional scrap of meat? On the few occasions that you had roamed the city without your usual garb denoting your status as a soldier and lost your extra rations to tiny, wandering hands, you hadn't reported the incident to The Stratum.
How could you when you knew their pain firsthand?
Russell pauses in front of you and waits till you are at his side to speak again. When he does, his voice is low and conspiratorial. "Watch your mouth, <<print $playerName>>. You know what the punishment is for disparaging The Templars."
[[You scoff.|You scoff]]
[[You bow your head apolagetically.|You bow your head apolagetically]]
[[You nod, but say nothing.|You nod, but say nothing.]]
[[Let them try.|Let them try]] You scoff. It's ridiculous how everyone treats The Templars with so much deference. They have never bled for Dome-IV- not in the same way that you and so many others have. They know nothing of the true horror that lay beyond the walls.
They have blood on their hands, but it is never their own. Always another sacrificed for the sake of the greater good.
[[Continue|Follow Russel]]You bow your head apolagetically. You will never apologize for the way that you feel about The Templars, but Russel already has enough on his plate right now. As it is, you'll both be lucky to make it back in one peice. Right now, he needs to focus on the missoin.
<<set $empathy+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Follow Russel]]You nod, but say nothing. There's no point in arguing with Russel. He already knows how you feel about The Templars. Now is not the time to speak out against the things that go on behind closed doors in Dome-IV.
At least not until you make it back from the mission in one piece.
<<set $caution+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Follow Russel]]Let them try.
You've bled for Dome-IV before, and you're not scared to do it again. At least this time, you'll know who- and what- you're bleeding for.
<<set $bravery+= 2>>
<<include "PersonalityCheck">>
[[Continue|Follow Russel]]
Your brows furrow and you bite down on the tip of your tongue. Your shoulders cut a hard line above the bustling crowd as you maneuver through the crowd. You both make the rest of the walk in silence. By the time you reach The Gate, the dome is a luminous grey, lit up like molten gunmetal.
You aren't sure what the dome is made of. No one is. It was tech from The Before Times. One of the few relics that have survived the pervasive desert and acid rains.
"There they are." Russell gestures towards a group of three to the left of the gate. Posture stiff, you assess the group with a shunted skepticism. It's easy to pick out The Templar from the soldiers. And not just because the soldiers were clad in thick, tattered leather while The Templar war robes of cotton beige.
While the soldiers stand perched against the uneven brick, movements labored by poorly healed injuries and exhaustion, The Templar's posture is alert and practiced. His skin is free of the scars and bruises that cover the soldiers' arms and legs. Long brown hair clean of the dirt and sand most wear like a second skin stops right above his shoulders.
He is pretty enough to be a breeder. But his eyes hold a sharpness that puts you on edge as you approach the small group.
You bite back a frown when The Templar steps forward, flanked by two soldiers. He greets Russell with a nod. "Are you Russel?"
Russel nods and returns the greeting with a reverent bow. The Templar's lack of honorific in addressing the seasoned commander denotes his rank. Templars outrank even the most accomplished soldiers, second only to The Stratum themselves- even though Russel will be the true leader of the mission once your group steps outside the dome.
"I am. You must be Prophet, Fifth Templar to The Oracle. It's an honor to meet you."
Russell bows again before gesturing to you. "This is <<print $playerName>>. $pronounsSubject 's one of my most trusted fighters. Proficient with both a blade and a gun. $pronounsSubject will be my second in command for the mission."
Prophet assesses you with an expression that betrays nothing, save for a peculiar interest. After a moment, he affords you a weighted smile. "Nice to meet you <<print $playerName>>."
[[You don't acknowledge him.|Don't acknowledge]]
[["Likewise." You greet him in return. |Greet him in return]]
[[You return his greeting with a nod. |nod]]
[[You dismisss him. |dismiss him]]
You don't bother acknowledging him. You've never been the type to bother with formalities, and you certainly aren't going to start with him.
[[Continue|Greet the Soldiers]] "Likewise." You greet him in return. No point in starting things off with hostility, not when things are already tense enough.
[[Continue|Greet the Soldiers]] You return his greting with a nod. Not quite deferential, but an acknowledgement at least.
<<set $ProphetAffection += 1>>
[[Continue|Greet the Soldiers]] A dismissive grunt is your only response. Acknowledgement- just barely. But enought to make it clear that you have no respect for him and what he stands for.
[[Continue|Greet the Soldiers]] <<if $personalityChanged>>
<div class="personality-notification">
Your Personality has shifted! You are now <b>$personalityTitle</b>.
</div>
<<set $personalityChanged = false>>
<</if>>
You turn away from Prophet and greeted the two soldiers at his side. You don't know them by name. But you recognize them from your time patrolling the perimeter around the dome.
"Where are the rest of your men?" Prophet glances behind Russel.
"This is it." Russel clears his throat. Apparently the Templar wasn't informed of the limitations The Stratum set for the mission. It was unusual that they wouldn't assign more soldiers to the mission, given Prophet's rank. More peculiar yet that they wouldn't inform the high ranking templar. Maybe they'd been worried he would refuse if he knew their group would be so small.
"Just the five of us?" Prophets eyes narrow and he studies Russel, as if trying to puzzle together something that doesn't quite make sense.
"Dont worry Templar." The corners of your lips lift into a smirk. "You can hide behind us if you're scared you'll break a nail."
Prophet's expression shifts towards something harder. When he speaks again, his words are sharp. Not quite a challenge, but almost. "Do you have a problem with me, soldier?"
[[Do you want me to?]]
[[No problem, Templar.]]
[[Should I?]]
[[Let's just focus on the mission|focus on the mission]] <h3>Name</h3>
Please enter your name:
<<textbox "$playerName" "">>
<<button "Continue">>
<<goto "Pronouns">>
<</button>><h3>Pronouns</h3>
What pronouns do you use?
<ul>
<li><<link "He/Him">><<set $pronounsSubject to "he">><<set $pronounsObject to "him">><<set $pronounsPossessive to "his">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>></li>
<li><<link "She/Her">><<set $pronounsSubject to "she">><<set $pronounsObject to "her">><<set $pronounsPossessive to "her">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>></li>
<li><<link "They/Them">><<set $pronounsSubject to "they">><<set $pronounsObject to "them">><<set $pronounsPossessive to "their">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>></li>
</ul><<set $hairColor to $hairColor or "">>
<<set $hairLength to $hairLength or "">>
<h3>Hair</h3>
Choose your hair color:
<span style="color: gold;">
<<link "Black">><<set $hairColor = "black">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Blonde">><<set $hairColor = "blonde">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Brown">><<set $hairColor = "brown">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Red">><<set $hairColor = "red">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "White/Silver">><<set $hairColor = "white/silver">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>> </span>
Current: <<print $hairColor>>
<hr>
Choose your hair length:
<span style="color: gold;">
<<link "Short">><<set $hairLength = "short">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Shoulder-Length">><<set $hairLength = "shoulder-length">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Long">><<set $hairLength = "long">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>>
<<link "Shaved">><<set $hairLength = "shaved">><<goto "Choose Hair">><</link>> </span>
Current: <<print $hairLength>>
<<if $hairColor and $hairLength>><span style="color: gold;">
[[Next: Eye Color->Choose Eyes]]</span>
<</if>><<set $eyeColor to $eyeColor or "">>
<h3>Eyes</h3>
Choose your eye color:
<span style="color: gold;">
<<link "Blue">><<set $eyeColor = "blue">><<goto "Choose Eyes">><</link>>
<<link "Green">><<set $eyeColor = "green">><<goto "Choose Eyes">><</link>>
<<link "Brown">><<set $eyeColor = "brown">><<goto "Choose Eyes">><</link>>
<<link "Hazel">><<set $eyeColor = "hazel">><<goto "Choose Eyes">><</link>>
<<link "Gray">><<set $eyeColor = "gray">><<goto "Choose Eyes">><</link>> </span>
Current: <<print $eyeColor>>
<<if $eyeColor>><span style="color: gold;">
[[Next: Skin Color->Choose Skin]]</span>
<</if>><<set $skinColor to $skinColor or "">>
<h3>Skin</h3>
Choose your skin tone:
<span style="color: gold;">
<<link "Fair">><<set $skinColor = "fair">><<goto "Choose Skin">><</link>>
<<link "Tan">><<set $skinColor = "tan">><<goto "Choose Skin">><</link>>
<<link "Olive">><<set $skinColor = "olive">><<goto "Choose Skin">><</link>>
<<link "Brown">><<set $skinColor = "brown">><<goto "Choose Skin">><</link>>
<<link "Dark">><<set $skinColor = "dark">><<goto "Choose Skin">><</link>></span>
Current: <<print $skinColor>>
<<if $skinColor>>
<span style="color: gold;">
[[Next: Height->Choose Height]]</span>
<</if>><<set $height to $height or "">>
<h3>Height</h3>
Choose your height:
<span style="color: gold;">
<<link "Short">><<set $height = "short">><<goto "Choose Height">><</link>>
<<link "Average">><<set $height = "average">><<goto "Choose Height">><</link>>
<<link "Tall">><<set $height = "tall">><<goto "Choose Height">><</link>>
<<link "Very Tall">><<set $height = "very tall">><<goto "Choose Height">><</link>>
</span>
Current: <<print $height>>
<<if $height>><span style="color: gold;">
[[Preview Character->Customization Summary]]</span>
<</if>>
<h3>Customization Summary:</h3>
Hair: <<print $hairLength>> <<print $hairColor>>
Eyes: <<print $eyeColor>>
Skin: <<print $skinColor>>
Height: <<print $height>>
[[Start the Story->StartGame]]
[[Go back to change hair->Choose Hair]]Sighing, you tear your eyes aware from the group and look out across the crumbling cityscape you call Dome-IV. Concave light spills out across the crowded labyrinth of dehydrated brick and sun bleached tapestry. Heat lingers in the air, sticky sweet like formaldehyde, distorting the sloping enclaves. Roofs thatched with straw huddle together, vying for space within the mile wide radius the dome barely contains.
It may not look like much, but it's one of the few remaining human strongholds that has managed to survive the radioactive fallout- and the horrors that came after.
Your nose wrinkles as you draw your pack closer to your body and push your way through the crowded, dirt alley. The pungent smell of sweat and hot metal mingles with salted meats drying on ropes overhead. The air is gritty with dust, dry enough to burn the back of your throat, and it clings to your skin like static. You draw your pack closer, the rough strap cutting into your palm, and push your way through the narrow, dirt caked alley. Bodies crowd the narrow street, skin sticky with heat, shoulders brushing yours, breath warm and close.
Hungry eyes and desperate hands reach for you, but you keep your gaze focused straight ahead.
Kindness is a luxury you don't have, even as you pretend not to see the emaciated bodies lining the street, or the smell of rot as another flea ridden corpse is thrown onto the grave diggers cart.
By the time you make it back to your hut, your clothes cling to your body, slick with sweat. You slip your pack off and do one final check. If you've forgotten something, you'll be without it for weeks- maybe longer if things go south. You glance over at the small table beside you and hesitate.
You pack...
[[Extra Bandages.|bandages]]
[[An extra pack of salted meats.|salted meat]]
[[Your Father's old pocket knife.|pocket knife]]
[[An empty waterskin.|waterskin]]
<<set $stamina += 2>>
You pack extra bandages.They haven't told you where you're going- not yet. But you want to be prepared, just incase. Radioactivity and famine aren't the only things that can kill you out there.
[[Continue|rearrange pack]] <<set $hunger += 2>>
You pack an extra ration of salted meats. If you're especially unlucky and have to shelter from the acid rains, you might need the extra food to wait the storm out.
[[Continue|rearrange pack]] You pack your father's old pocketknife. It was the last thing he gave you before he died. If probably won't do much to protect you from what lays beyond the walls, but having it with you brings you comfort.
[[Continue|rearrange pack]] <<set $thirst += 2>>
You pack an extra waterskin. If you find any cacti along the way, you can bleed them clean and store any water you're able to extract from them into this.
[[Continue|rearrange pack]]
As you rearrange your pack, you spot a swath of crumpled white near the bottom. You reach for the paper- more out of reflex than anything else. His face stares back at you- familiar and intimate in a way so few things are anymore. You've had to harden yourself to survive- to accept pain and loss as the cost of existing. Hayden was the only part of yourself still soft enough to break.
Some nights, when you close your eyes, you can still feel the way he whispered secrets into your skin, whispered fragile hopes and dreams of a house with a hearth and a tree around back- engraved with your name and his. Of a shared bed and a life where you could walk hand in hand down the street without risking a death sentence from The Templars. All the dreams of a future together you never allowed yourself to hope for- he held them for you, until the day he died.
You..
[[Cling to the memories of him.|cling to memories]]
[[Push the memories away.|push the memories away]]
[[Tell yourself you were both young and foolish.|young and foolish]]
[[Force yourself to focus on the task at hand.|force yourself to focus]] You cling to your memories of him, even when you know they'll haunt you tonight when you close your eyes. You're not ready to let it go- to let him go. Not yet. It's been almost a year, but it still feels like yesterday that you got the news. His entire unit decimanted.
Not a single survivor.
That night, you cried yourself to sleep. Yelled until your voice was too hoarse to scream. He held all the things you were too scared to hope for. And when he died, your dreams died with him.
<<set $HaydenAffection += 1>>
[[Continue|knockknock]]
You push the memories away, and bury them somewhere where the hurt is only a distant throb. It's pointless, clining to the past. Lamenting about something you'll never be able to change. He is dead. And there is nothing you can do to change that. Even if the sheer thought hollows you from the inside out.
[[Continue|knockknock]] You try to convince yourself that you were both young and foolish. That, no matter what, it would have ended like this. The Templars would have never allowed it. You were both soldiers, and only the breeders were allowed to be intimate. Even then, they could only lay with the select few chose by The Templars.
Resources were scarce. Food, water, shelter- they could only be invested in the strongest, the smartest. Those that would ensure humanity's survival. To ensure that, The Templars were highly selective about who they allowed to couple.
If you two had been found out, they would have excommunicated you both and banished you to The Wastelands. Death would have been swift. But sometimes, on your darker days, when you miss him so much you feel as if your chest might split straight in two, you wonder if that might've been better- dying together.
[[Continue|knockknock]] You push the memories away and force yourself to focus. You can't allow yourself to become distracted- not now, when the hardest mission of your life is only hours away.
At least not if you want to survive.
[[Continue|knockknock]] A knock interrupts your thoughts, tearing you from your reverie. Your eyes snap up. Dark blue hair and two pools of gunmetal grey meet your gaze.
"My father sent me to come get you." Zander, fitted head to toe in scavenger gear, is standing in your doorway with a shiny side piece strapped to his hip. He's the son of your Dad's best friend, Russel, but he's older than you are, and assigned to a scavenger unit- so usually he spends most of his time outside the dome. Even when he is around, he always keeps his distance from you. On the few occasions you've been forced to interact, his responses have always been stiff.
Curt.
<i>Almost</i> pained.
Sometimes you wonder if you did something to offend him. But how could you when you've barely exchanged more than a word in passing?
You know he's not like this with the others. You've seen it firsthand, how he talks freely with the the rest of the dwellers. How he's a natural leader, warm and charismatic, encouraging without demanding. Always the first to step up and take the risk. At only 26, he's risen to the rank of second in command in his unit- no small feat.
Which only proves what you've always suspected. For some reason, he's only this way with you. This makes the news that his father sent Zander of all people to come and retrieve you even more perplexing.
"He did?"
Zander nods. His gaze is a weighted thing as his eyes drop to the paper in your hand. You clear your throat and hastily place the picture back in your pack.
"Tell him I'll be there in a few."
"Alright." He says, but he doesn't move. Instead, his eyes linger. Turning towards him, you frown.
[[You okay?|you okay?]]
[[What's the problem?|whats the problem]]
[[Do you have something else to say?|something else to say]]
[[Why is he acting so wierd?|acting weird]] "Are you oaky?
You turn towards him, frowning. He's acting even more distant than usual. Not doubt his farther likely had to force him into delivering the message.
<<set $ZanderAffection += 1>>
[[Continue|parting gift]] "What's the problem?"
You turn towards him and cross your arms. If he has a problem with you, then he should just say it. He's acting even more distant than usual. Not doubt his farther likely had to force him into delivering the message.
[[Continue|parting gift]] "Do you have something else to say?"
You turn towards him and cast a questioning glance in his direction. He's acting even more distant than usual. Not doubt his farther likely had to force him into delivering the message.
[[Continue|parting gift]] You clear your throat and turn towards him. He's acting even more distant than usual. Not doubt his farther likely had to force him into delivering the message.
[[Continue|parting gift]] "Here." Zander reaches into his pack and hands you a packet of purifying tablets. You gape. There's nothing more valuable out here in this barren wasteland. With the radioactivity that still lingers in the atmosphere, it's impossible to drink the water outside the dome without them.
The Stratum rations them like gold. Soldiers and scavengers get one allotment a week. You've seen what happens to those foolish enough to blow through their rations outside of the dome. In the sweltering heat, death had taken them in a matter of days.
You...
[[Accept the tablets.|accept the tablets]]
[[Refuse the tablets.|refuse the tablets]]
[[Ask if he's sure.|you sure]]
[[Tell him you can handle yourself.|you can handle yourself]]
You accept the tablets. "Thank you."
He only nods. He stands there for a moment, like he wants to say something more, but he turns away instead.
[[Continue|Meet Jax]] You shake your head and refuse the offer. Even so, he reaches around you and places the tablets in your pack. "Hold on to them for me. You can give them to me when you get back."
[[Continue|Meet Jax]] You ask if Zander's sure. He nods his head, resolute. "You might need them. They're saying your mission might take almost a week. You'll be cutting it close as it is."
<<set $ZanderAffection += 1>>
[[Continue|Meet Jax]] "I can handle myself." You say, chin squared.
"I know you can." And he means it. You can tell by the way he looks at you. Even so, he reaches around you and places the tablets in your pack.
[[Continue|Meet Jax]] "Why are you giving these to me?" You stare at him, puzzled.
He only shakes his head and turns away from you. "Don’t tell my father I gave them to you." That's all he says before he steps through the doorway. His father isn't just another dweller. He's Commander Russel- your Commanding General for the mission your due to depart on in an hour. You don't suppose he would be too pleased to learn his only son has given you the very lifesource that will sustain him if he encounters trouble out scavenging.
[[Continue|clothes]] Turning to your left, you shuffle through a wicker basket and lay out the few clothes you own. Four pairs- more than most. You should change before you head to The Gate. Your clothes are already dripping with sweat, and you need to find something sturdy enough to provide you with enough protection if you encounter trouble, and light enough to keep you cool when you pass the radioactive zones and have to wear the suit.
The colors are simple and clean- mostly. Beiges and browns. Something that will help you blend in among the swathes of sand and desert.
You choose..
[[Robes, light and free flowing. |Robes]]
[[Salvaged metal and hard leather, thick and heavy. |metal]]
[[A soft leather tunic with a loose fitting shirt underneath.|tunic]]
[[You stay in what you're already wearing.|don't change]] <<set $thirst += 2>>
You grab your Robes, light and free flowing, tranditionally only worn within the dome. They won't afford you much- if any- protection if you have to fight, but they'll keep you cool, which means you'll stay hydrated for longer. You'll also be able to wear the radioactive suit for longer stretches if needed.
[[Continue|Meet Jaxx]] <<set $stamina += 2>>
You throw on your combat gear, a mix of salvaged metal and hard leather that protects your center with bracers built into the forearms. You'll be prepared if you have to fight, but wearing the heavy gear under the blaring heat- especially when you pass through the radioactive zones high enough to warrant putting on your suit- will be grueling. You'll become dehyydrated more quickly, and you'll need to make sure you don't overheart. Good thing you have those extra purifying tablets from Zander.
[[Continue|Meet Jaxx]] <<set $thirst += 1>>
<<set $stamina+= 1>>
You grab the soft leather tunic with a loose shirt to go underneath. It's a decent compromise between something that will provide you a bit of protection, and something that won't have you sweating bullets.
[[Continue|Meet Jaxx]] <<set $thirst -= 2>>
<<set $stamina -= 1>>
You can't be bothered with changing. What's the point when you'll be covered with sweat again within the hour anyways.
[[Continue|Meet Jaxx]] Sighing, you hoist your pack over your shoulder and walk through the door. You only make it a couple steps when you hear someone calling your name.
"<<print $playerName>>"!
You turn and see Jax running towards you, hand raised. His warm brown eyes find yours from under a mop of dirty blonde hair as he comes to a stop in front of you, breathless.
"You okay?" You ask, biting back a smirk.
"Yeah...had to make sure...you hadn't left yet." He rasps between breaths.
"Careful Jax, you almost sound like you're going to miss me." You tease.
Your best friend shoots you a roguish grin. "I always miss you <<print $playerName>>. Even when you don't bother telling me you're leaving for a week."
"Must've slipped my mind." You smile innocently.
He shoots you a look that tells you he doesn't believe you in the slightest, but he lets it go. "Let me walk you to The Gate. Figured you might need the distraction."
"Oh? And how are you planning to accomplish that?"
"However you want me to." He flashed you a suggestive smile. "I'm a man of many talents."
You roll your eyes, snickering. Jax was always a flirt, even before The Templars made him a breeder. "You're also a man of insufferable arrogance." You remark.
"Confidence." He corrects.
"Which reminds me, shouldn't you be putting those god given talents to use at this very moment."
He shrugs, a little too casually. "What they don't know won't hurt them."
"Jax." You shoot him a warning glare.
"What? I couldn't let you leave without at least saying goodbye."
"The Templars will punish you if they find out."
"Worth it." He grabs your pack from you and insists on carrying it the rest of the way. Jax isn't like most of the others- he wasn't born in Dome-IV. A scanvenger unit found him on the outskirts of The Wastes, just barely clinging to life, with no signs of how he'd gotten there or what he was doing so far out.
He was still a kid back then- he'd had to work hard to acclimate and gain acceptance from a people that had learned that anything unfamilar was dangerous. Maybe that was why the two of you had bonded so easily. He was an outsider- and back then, you were newly orphaned. Both of you were lost and scared, you'd needed something to anchor you.
You'd found it in one another.
Or, at least you had- until The Templars made him a breeder.
"I can carry my own pack you know."
"I know. I just wanted an excuse to show off." He makes a show of pulling himself up to his full height and stretching his muscles. He's well built with broad shoulders and long, sinewy abs- and the self satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he knows it. "Have to have some way to remind you I'm not just a pretty face. I'm good for picking stuff up and hauling things around too."
"Very useful. Like a camel."
"A very hot camel. Give me a gun and you could add loyal protector to the list. You should keep me around more often." He winks.
You laugh in spite of yourself. "Don’t you get enough attention from the people The Templars pair you with?"
Jax's smile falls. He turns away, like he doesn't want you to see. "That's different."
You're about to ask how how when Russel steps forward. The two of you share a final glance before Jax whispers "Miss you already" and dissapears back into the crowd.
Russel watches and regards Jax with a disapproving look, but he doesn't comment. You're sure he knows Jax isn't supposed to be here.
"You're early."
"Only as early as you asked me to be."
Russel frowns, expression puzzled. "What?"
"Zander told me you sent for me."
"I didn't send for you. Haven't seen Zander all morning."
You frown, confused. You're tempted to ask, but think better of it. You don't want to get Zander in trouble, especially after he was kind enough to give you his ration of purifying tablets for the week.
[[Continue|You Ready?]] "Let's just focus on the mission." You reply curtly. For a second, he looks like he might argue. But then, instead, he nods. At the very least, he seems to respect your commitment to the mission.
[[Continue |Peacekeeper]] Clearing his throat, Russel places a hand on your shoulder. A silent reminder to steady yourself. "My apologies, Templar. $pronounsSubject's just tired from $pronounsObject rounds. We shouldn't waste time. The longer we wait, the hotter its going to be. The trek to The Outpost will already take us several days as it is."
You keep your gaze fixed on Prophet. For a moment, both of you stand there, locked in a silent challenge. The tension in your frame eases only once Prophet steps back.
"Good. Let's suit up then." That's all The Templar says before turning and stepping into the nearby building that houses the radioactive suits.
You let out a harsh breath. The trip to The Outpost and back will take just shy of a week. If The Marked Ones or the elements don't kill The Templar, you might just do the job yourself.<<set $ProphetAffection += 1>>
"Do you want me to?" You level a hard glare at the intense blue eyes focused on you. Prophet is probably used to most people defering to him. But you have no intention of bowing to The Templar. Respect is earned through sweat and blood. And Prophet has probably never known a day of adversity in his life, sheltered by the protection of The Oracle.
Russel shoots you a warning look. "<<print $playerName>>-"
"Relax, Commander. If your soldier has a bone to pick with me, $pronounsSubject should say it. Get it out of the way before we leave the dome." Prophet makes no attempt to hide the challenge in his voice. He's goading you.
Testing you.
[[Continue |Peacekeeper]] Prophet stares at you for a moment. Then he does the last thing you expected- answers honestly.
"That depends who you ask."
[[Continue |Peacekeeper]]
"No problem, Templar." You voice is tight, posture stiff. It's clear he reads it on you. He doesn't believe you, but luckily he doesn't push.
[[Continue |Peacekeeper]] <<set $playerName = "">> <!-- Empty player name -->
<<set $pronounsSubject = "they">> <!-- Default pronouns -->
<<set $pronounsObject = "them">>
<<set $pronounsPossessive = "their">>
<<set $hunger = 5>>
<<set $thirst = 5>>
<<set $stamina = 5>>
<<set $temperature = 5>>
<<set $radiation = 5>>
<<set $maxStat = 10>>
<<set $empathy = 0>>
<<set $resilience = 0>>
<<set $wisdom = 0>>
<<set $bravery = 0>>
<<set $caution = 0>>
<<set $charisma = 0>>
<<set $personalityTitle = "">>
<<set $personalityDesc = "">>
<<set $previousPersonalityTitle = "">>
<<set $personalityChanged = false>>
<<set $HaydenAffection to 0>>
<<set $ZanderAffection to 0>>
<<set $JaxAffection to 0>>
<<set $ProphetAffection to 0>>
<p style="text-align: center;"><h2>Survival Stats</h2></p>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<<set _percent = Math.round(($hunger / $maxStat) * 100)>>
<p><strong>Hunger:</strong> <<print $hunger>> / <<print $maxStat>> (<<print _percent>>%)</p>
<<= '<div class="bar-wrapper"><div class="bar-fill" style="width: ' + _percent + '%;"></div></div>' >>
<<set _percent = Math.round(($thirst / $maxStat) * 100)>>
<p><strong>Thirst:</strong> <<print $thirst>> / <<print $maxStat>> (<<print _percent>>%)</p>
<<= '<div class="bar-wrapper"><div class="bar-fill" style="width: ' + _percent + '%;"></div></div>' >>
<<set _percent = Math.round(($stamina / $maxStat) * 100)>>
<p><strong>Stamina:</strong> <<print $stamina>> / <<print $maxStat>> (<<print _percent>>%)</p>
<<= '<div class="bar-wrapper"><div class="bar-fill" style="width: ' + _percent + '%;"></div></div>' >>
<!-- BODY TEMPERATURE -->
<<set _percent = Math.round(($temperature / $maxStat) * 100)>>
<p><strong>Body Temperature:</strong> <<print $temperature>> / <<print $maxStat>> (<<print _percent>>%)</p>
<<= '<div class="bar-wrapper"><div class="bar-fill" style="width: ' + _percent + '%;"></div></div>' >>
<!-- RADIOACTIVITY -->
<<set _percent = Math.round(($radiation / $maxStat) * 100)>>
<p><strong>Radiation:</strong> <<print $radiation>> / <<print $maxStat>> (<<print _percent>>%)</p>
<<= '<div class="bar-wrapper"><div class="bar-fill" style="width: ' + _percent + '%;"></div></div>' >><!-- Reusable stat bar component -->
<div class="bar-wrapper">
<div class="bar-fill" style="width: <<= (_value / $maxStat) * 100>>%;"></div>
</div><b>Info</b><br>
<<link "Personality">><<goto "Character Traits">><</link>><br>
<<link "Relationships">><<goto "Relationships">><</link>><br>
<<link "Character Traits">><<goto "CharacterTraits">><</link>><br>
<<link "Survival Stats">><<goto "Stats">><</link>><br><div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><b>Your Relationships</b></h2>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3><b>Zander</b><br></h3>
<<if $ZanderAffection >= 5>>
He watches you like he would walk through the Wastelands themselves if it meant keeping you safe.
<<elseif $ZanderAffection >= 3>>
He’s letting his guard down. Slowly. His presence is just as commanding as when you first met, but now it feels as if he looks at you instead of through you.
<<elseif $ZanderAffection >= 1>>
He's distant as always, but something about he way he looks at you- the way he tenses when you're near, like your very presence is enough to stir something in him- makes you think there's more to his avoidance than he lets on.
<<else>>
The distance between you two is as vast as The Wastes themselves. He avoids you when he can, talks only when necessary. He hates you. You're sure of it. You just don't know why.
<</if>>
</div>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3><b>Jax</b><br></h3>
<<if $JaxAffection >= 5>>
He flirts shamelessly, but there’s sincerity beneath the charm.
<<elseif $JaxAffection >= 3>>
He teases you more than anyone else.
<<elseif $JaxAffection >= 1>>
Lately, when he looks at you, his eyes linger a second longer than they used to. He walks just close enough for his hand to brush yours when you walk the streets togther. A touch just barely there, enough to pretend it's an accident. And if you didn't know him so well, you might just believe him.
<<else>>
He’s as flirtatious and blase as ever. He's still here for you, just like he's always been. But his obligations as a breeder has created distance between you two. You can feel it, despite his efforts to assure you otherwise.
<</if>>
</div>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3><b>Hayden</b><br></h3>
<<if $HaydenAffection >= 5>>
His eyes soften around you. His blade does not.
<<elseif $HaydenAffection >= 3>>
He’s begun to respect your strength—and your flaws.
<<elseif $HaydenAffection >= 1>>
You can't let go. There's a part of you that doesn't want to, because it feels like turning your back on him. Like a betrayal of the one person that made you want to dream of something more than just survival. Even if it meant risking the wrath of The Templars themselves.
<<else>>
You've mourned him. Grieved his loss. Buried what little you had left of him in a secret grave to the east. Will you finally be able to move on from your first love, or go chasing ghosts of the pasts- even if they lead you straight into The Wastes themselves?
<</if>>
</div>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h3><b>Prophet</b><br></h3>
<<if $ProphetAffection >= 5>>
He trusts you completely—and follows your lead without hesitation.
<<elseif $ProphetAffection >= 3>>
You're not sure what you enjoy more- the look on his face when you put him in his place, or the fire in his eyes when he realizes he likes that even more than winning.
<<elseif $ProphetAffection >= 1>>
You still hate him. And he still hates you. But now, his insufferable arrogance isn't just a nuisance- it's a challenge. Maybe even a game- one you're determined to win. He seems just as intent on besting you. You're not sure who will win, but you know one thing- you won't be going down without a fight.
<<else>>
You hate him, and it seems like the feeling is mutual. You push, and he pushes harder. You make no effort to hide your disgust of who he is and what he does, and he offers no apologies in return. He's everything you hate about Templars and The Stratum. You'll be lucky to finish the mission without burrying your dagger in his throat.
<</if>></div>
<div class="stats-container">
<p style="text-align: center;">
<b>Personality Title:</b><br>
<span class="personality-title">$personalityTitle</span><br><br>
<b>Personality Description:</b><br>
<i>$personalityDesc</i>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Empathy:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $empathy>></span></div>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Resilience:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $resilience>></span></div>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Wisdom:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $wisdom>></span></div>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Bravery:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $bravery>></span></div>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Caution:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $caution>></span></div>
<div class="stat-item"><b>Charisma:</b> <span class="stat-number"><<print $charisma>></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<h2><b>Your Character</b></h2>
</div>
<p style="text-align: center; color: #1a2e57; font-size: 1.2em;">━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━</p>
<b>Eye Color:</b> <<print $eyeColor>><br>
<b>Hair Color:</b> <<print $hairColor>><br>
<b>Hair Length:</b> <<print $hairLength>><br>
<b>Skin Color:</b> <<print $skinColor>><br>
<b>Height:</b><<print $height>><<if $empathy > $resilience and $wisdom > $caution>>
<<set _newTitle = "The Desert Rose">>
<<set _newDesc = "Caring and thoughtful, you are guided by wisdom and kindness. You prioritize how your actions make others feel, and reflect deeply on your experiences to understand more about people and the world around you.">>
<<elseif $empathy > $resilience and $caution > $wisdom>>
<<set _newTitle = "The Heat of the Desert">>
<<set _newDesc = "You are driven by fierce loyalty and passion. You feel emotions strongly and temper your passion with a deep empathy for others. While you may at times be impulsive, your intentions are always pure and you go out of your way to be there for the people that you care for.">>
<<elseif $resilience > $empathy and $wisdom > $caution>>
<<set _newTitle = "Blade of Tempered Steel">>
<<set _newDesc = "Calculating, unyielding, and shaped by reason, you are inellectual and do not allow yourself to be swayed by your emotions. You do not suffer fools, nor are you one of them. You have lived long enough to see what becomes of those with bleeding hearts.">>
<<elseif $resilience > $empathy and $caution > $wisdom>>
<<set _newTitle = "A Kiss of Ash and Acid">>
<<set _newDesc = "Ruled by wrath and emotion, you are willing to do whatever is necessary to succeed. Your experiences have taught you that the world favors the one that draws first blood, and you make sure to do so in any interaction where it may be beneficial.">>
<<elseif $bravery > $wisdom>>
<<set _newTitle = "Acid Storm">>
<<set _newDesc = "Fearless to a fault, you, charge into fate’s jaws without a second though. You have a lion's heart, and face conflict head on. While this is sometimes to you benefit, allowing you the element of suprise, it can also lead you to impulsiveness that places yourself in precarious situations.">>
<<elseif $wisdom > $bravery>>
<<set _newTitle = "Seer of the Sands">>
<<set _newDesc = "Patient and observant, you prefer to gain knowledge and understanding before you act. Though this often gives you the upper hand, at times this can lead you to hesitate when action is necessary.">>
<<else>>
<<set _newTitle = "Whisper in the Sands">>
<<set _newDesc = "You are well rounded and prioritize balance and adaptation. A true chamelion, you adapt to the situation to ensure as is needed and are not afraid of change.">>
<</if>>
<<if _newTitle !== $personalityTitle>>
<<set $previousPersonalityTitle = $personalityTitle>>
<<set $personalityTitle = _newTitle>>
<<set $personalityDesc = _newDesc>>
<<set $personalityChanged = true>>
<</if>><div class="personality-profile-container">
<<if $personalityTitle != "">>
<div class="personality-title">
$personalityTitle
</div>
<</if>>
<<if $personalityDesc != "">>
<div class="personality-description" id="personality-desc">
<!-- The description will type out dynamically -->
</div>
<</if>>
</div>
<br>
<<link "Back">><<back>><</link>>
<script>
window.addEventListener('DOMContentLoaded', (event) => {
const descText = `<<= $personalityDesc >>`;
const descContainer = document.getElementById("personality-desc");
let index = 0;
descContainer.style.opacity = 1;
function typeWriter() {
if (index < descText.length) {
descContainer.innerHTML += descText.charAt(index);
index++;
setTimeout(typeWriter, 30);
}
}
typeWriter();
});
</script>