Skelefighter

"You have him!" Amram exclaims, as he clambers out from the shredded wood and cushions of the alcove. His eyes are lit with excitement; excitement that dims slightly when he sees Havek. "Give me the key," he commands imperiously. "No." Havek replies bluntly. "Why not?" Havek turns to you instead of answering. "This man cannot be trusted." [["He's helped us so far."->BroughtKey2]]

(if: $monster is "nightwolf")[The $monster (either: "strikes and parries with inhuman speed,", "cuts and stabs,", "lunges and cuts at your neck,") and you (either: "counter desperately, barely holding on.", "block and dodge with all your skill.").](else-if: $monster is "skeleton")[The $monster (either: "lurches and blocks methodically", "cuts and stabs", "attacks you forcefully", "launches a series of blows"), and you(either: "'re forced to give ground.", " block and dodge as you can.", " defend yourself perfectly, seeking an opening.")](else:)[The $monster (either: "attacks with great sweeping blows", "thunders forward", "lurches forward"), (either: "forcing you backward!", "swinging with terrific strength!", "and you dodge around it, looking for an opening!", "and you escape death by a whisker as it's weapon slams into the floor!")] { (if: $myweapondm's bonusvs is $monster or $myweapondm's type is $myskill)[Your (print: $myweapondm's type) gives you advantage as you press a counterattack! [[Keep Fighting->FightWinAdvantage]]](else:)[ \  (if: $fightturns < (random:($fightth)))[[[Keep fighting!->FightLoop]]](else:)[[[Keep fighting->FightWin]]] ] } (set: $turns to $turns + 1) (set: $fightturns to $fightturns + 1)  (set: $fightloop to "FightLoop")

You leap to engage the skeleton. Your $myweapon slices through the air. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $loopth to (random: 2)) (set: $myweapondm to $duelingsaber) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapondm to $bluntmace)

(if: $fightth > 1)[Finally the $monster makes a mistake. As](else:)[You see an opening! As] the monster makes a (either: "terrific strike", "plunging strike", "lunging attack"), you step (either: "deep", "neatly", "quickly") inside its guard and: {(if: $monster is "skeleton" and $myweapondm's type is "mace")[[[Blast the cursed bones apart->BlastWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is not "knives")[[[Slam your $myweapon into its skull->SkullSlamWin]] ] (if: $monster is not "skeleton" and $myweapondm's type is not "mace")[[[Shove your $myweapon deep through its heart->HeartStabWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is "knife" and $monster is not "skeleton")[[[Slice through its neck from the back->NeckSliceBehindWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is not "mace")[[[Punch your $myweapon straight into its ribs->PunchRibsWin]] ] }  (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)   (if: $monster is "skeleton" and $Mackenzie's following is true and $Mackenzie's weapon is not "chair leg")[(set: $fightloop to "MackenzieKillsSkeleton")]\ \ (if: $monster is not "golem" and $Mystics's following is true)[(set: $fightloop to "TarissaKillsCreature")]\ \ (if: $monster is "nightwolf" and $Countess's following is true and $Countess's weapon is not "none")[(set: $fightloop to "CountessKillsNightwolf")]

You stumble away from $monstername's swinging $monsterweapon, abandoning your position. The creature doesn't chase you... (link-goto: "Continue", $retreatpsg) <!-- if retreatpsg defined, person you're protecting is killed!->

(if: $turns >= 50)[[[Look around suddenly->TimeoutDieToHorde]]](else:)[Your breath comes hot through your throat as you (either: "finally have time to", "take a breath and", "worriedly", "hurriedly") look around. (if:visits is 1)[$R1str](else-if:visits is 2)[$R2str](else-if:visits is 6)[$R3str](else-if: visits is 10)[$R4str]  { \ (if: not $Mackenzie's tried)[Mackenzie (if: $Mackenzie's seen is false)[dodges around a banquet table, harried by a pair of clattering skeletons. She clutches what looks like a broken-off table leg in both hands.](else:)[ lingers behind a banquet table, still harried by a pair of clattering skeletons.] (set: $Mackenzie's seen to true) [[Help Mackenzie->HelpJournalist]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 10 and $turns < 25 and not $Mystics's tried)[(if: $Mystics's seen is false)[A](else:)[The] small group of white-robed mystics (if: $Mystics's seen is false)[stand barricaded behind a pair of tables.](else:)[is holding their own.] (if: $turns > 20)[Only three remain standing, and they're surrounded by skeletons.](else:)[As you watch, a burst like sunlit fire shoots out, decapitating a skeleton. (set: $Mystics's seen to true)] [[Help them!->HelpMystics]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 12 and $turns < 22 and not $Mev's tried)[You spot Mev, lurking near a nest of potted plants with fronds that are taller than he is. (if: $Mev's seen is true)[The same](else:)[A] speckled golem pokes at the plants with a three-meter pike, though you're not sure it's seen Mev yet. (if: $Mev's seen is not true)[(set: $Mev's seen to true)] [[Help Mev->RescueMevP1]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 23 and $turns < 35 and not $Countess's tried)[You see the countess, (if: $turns > 28)[with a single guard and](else:)[surrounded by guards, but](if: $Countess's seen)[ still] stalked by a triplet of nightwolves. (if: $Countess's seen is not true)[(set: $Countess's seen to true)] [[Help the countess->HelpCountess]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 9 and $turns < 40 and not $Angry's seen)[A man in a rigid night jacket dodges a skeleton around a round table. He's holding his own, but only for the moment: he doesn't have a weapon, nor does he look like a fighter. (set: $Angry's seen to true) [[Help him!->HelpAngry]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 18 and $turns < 40 and not $Pretty's seen)[A pretty partier stumbles as she dodges the mace of a looming golem!. (set: $Pretty's seen to true) [[Defend her!->DefendPretty]] ] \ (if: $turns >= 28 and $turns < 40 and not $Flutist's seen)[A golem smashes a table, frightening a member of the band from his hiding place! (set: $Flutist's seen to true) [[Defend him!->DefendFlutist]] ] (if: $turns > 25 and $turns < 40 and not $Peevish's seen)[A woman with elaborate hair dodges past a table nearby, pursued by a skeleton as tall and wide as a golem! (set: $Peevish's seen to true) [[Help her!->DefendPeevish]] ] (if: $turns > 32 and $turns < 40 and not $Arrogant's seen)[A man cries suddenly for help as a nightwolf leaps after him; his elegant shirt torn and bloody, and he flees like a frightened hare. You recognize him: the man who called you a fool in the countess's circle. (set: $Arrogant's seen to true) [[Defend him!->DefendArrogant]] ] (if: $turns >= 6 and $turns < 40 and not $Drunk's seen)[A pair of skeletons lurch nearby in the direction of a huddled group of partiers. (set: $Drunk's seen to true) [[Attack them!->AttackRandSkeleton]] ] (if: $visits >= 3 and $Mackenzie's following is true and $seenportal is not true)["Wait a minute," Mackenzie says beside you. "We're missing something." (set: $seenportal to true) [[Talk to Mackenzie->MackenzieSeePortal]] ] (if: $seenportal)[The portal shimmers with dark light near the stage. As you watch, another (either: "skeleton", "golem", "wolf-creature") steps through and turns its red-eyed head. (if: $havecrystal)[[[Attack the portal->AttackPortalSuccessCrystal]]](else:)[[Attack the portal->AttackPortalPreFailDeath]] ] (if: $needcrystal is true)[(if: $Mystics's tried is true)[You see the mystics, holding their own with their backs to an alcove in the wall. A skeleton lumbers too close and receives a blast of sunlit fire. [[Help them!->BackToMystics]] ] (else-if: $turns > 25)["Over there," Mackenzie says, and there's a hard edge to her voice. "The mystics are down." With a shocked glance you look in the direction she is pointing. There little to see beyond a cluster of grey-clad forms on the ground. [[Investigate!->FindDeadMystic]] ]] (if: $Countess's following is true)[(if: $Mystics's following or $havecrystal is true)[(either: "\"The duke and his mage are //there//\",", "\"This only ends with the duke,\"") the countess reminds you, pointing towards a spot on the wall (either: "a good hundred paces away from you.", "perhaps fifty paces away.") You recognize the large hanging tapestry of the four-winged red shrike. [["You're right. It's time to end this."->PreDukeDoorCountess]] ]](else-if: $seenspyroom)["Gotta get that other mage," Mackenzie reminds you, waving her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) vaguely at the far wall. [["You're right. It's time to end this."->PreDukeDoorCountess]] ] (if: $needcrystal is true and $Mystics's tried is true and $turns < 25)[You see the mystics, holding their own with their backs to an alcove in the wall. A skeleton lumbers too close and receives a blast of sunlit fire. [[Help them!->BackToMystics]] ] (if: $turns >= 24 and $turns < 41 and not $needkey)[(if: $Havek's seen)[Havek remains in his alcove, harried by a pair of nightwolves!](else:)[You recognize Havek, framed by two nightwolves into a shallow alcove! (set: $Havek's seen to true)] [[Defend him!->DefendHavek]] ] (if: $needkey is true)[(if: $Havek's seen is false)[After an extended glance, you recognize](else:)[With a quick glance, you spot] the spymaster Havek - framed by two nightwolves into a shallow alcove on the far wall! (if: $Havek's tried is false)[[[Defend him!->DefendHavek]] ](else:)[[[Return to Havek!->ReturnToHavek]] ]] \  (link-goto: "Catch your breath", (shuffled: ...$idlepsgs)'s 1st) } ]  (set: $fightturns to 0)

You throw yourself forward, dragging your $myweapon low behind your torso. The nearer skeleton doesn't turn around quickly enough - and you whip your blade inside its shoulder socket with all the strength you can muster. It hisses like a stepped-on viper, whirling to attack you. You catch Mackenzie's eye for a moment, but there's no time to engage - both skeletons turn to face you as the greater threat, lumbering forward... [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedJournalistAlt") (set: $Mackenzie's tried to true) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 2) (set: $monsterweapondm to $bluntmace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $fightturns to 0) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

(set: $mycolor to "Blue")  (set: $kingdom to "Empire") (set: $myclothes to "close-fitting")  (set: $myskill to "none")  (set: $triedkillduke to false)   (set: $followpsg to "LookAround") (set: $retreatpsg to "GenericRetreat")  (set: $seenportal to false)  (set: $portalkilled to false)  (set: $needcrystal to false)  (set: $havecrystal to false) (set: $exitopen to false)  (set: $needkey to false)  (set: $seenspyroom to false)   (set: $promisedkillduke to false)   (set: $turns to 0) (set: $fightturns to 0)  (set: $meetturns to 0)  (set: $countinnocents to 0)

And from the shimmering surface, monsters begin to pour. The first are skeletons - shambling bone, bleached and armored with ancient, bronzing armor; weapons more clublike than sharp, eyes an unnatural red glow. Next are creatures of fur and claw, upright on backwards-facing knees, snouts like wolves and eyes like evil incarnate. And finally - a pair of mages, one bald, one with hair as fair and bright as the sun. "Kill them all," says the fair-haired one, her voice a melodious minstrel's. The room dissolves into chaos. [[Next->GetWeapon]]

Dropping your drink, you rush for a weapon - any weapon. "Guardians! To me!" Cries a soldier-looking partier, and he kicks a chest from under a white-clothed table. On the other side of the room. You'd have to pick your way around a half-dozen skeletons, and worse. Meanwhile, there are sharp knives on the buffet table, and a lantern pole could be used as a staff. [[Go for the chest->GoForChest]] [[Get knives->GetKnives]] [[Get staff->GetStaff]] (set: $fightturns to 0)

Screams and cries rise around you as you duck your head and run for the soldier and his chest. You're not the only one - a fine-dressed partier falls with a grunt beside you, struck down by something invisible. Another trips over a smear of spreading blood, and a skeleton's blunt weapon sinks into his back. You charge to the chest - it's nearly empty. The soldier's are fanning out around you in an arc. You see: [[A short, curved sword->GetSword]] [[A fat-bladed spear->GetSpear]] [[A dueling saber->GetSaber]] (set: $turns to $turns + 3)

You reach the buffet in two steps, and yank the stilleto from the still steaming pig roast. The scent is impossibly conflicted with the skeletons pouring into the room. Another figure steps in - hunched and full of malice. You've barely time to take it in before a skeleton spots you - lumbering forward with a great bronze mace - [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $myweapon to "stiletto") (set: $myweapondm to $stiletto) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapon to "great bronze mace") (set: $monsterweapondm to $greatbronzemace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

You reach the nearest lantern-pole in a single step, yanking it off its base and dousing the lantern in a shatter of glass on the floor. You sense more than see another shape stepping through the purple haze - hunched and full of malice - but a closer skeleton spots you, and you grip your new staff in both hands. Its mace is bronze and covered in evil-looking spikes. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $myweapon to "staff") (set: $myweapondm to $lanternpole) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapon to "spiked mace") (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Adrenaline runs through your arms as you grip the sword in your hand. You turn to take in the room. Another figure steps through the portal - hunched and full of malice. You've barely time to take it in before a skeleton spots you - lumbering forward with a great bronze mace - [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $myweapon to "short, curved sword") (set: $myweapondm to $shortcurvedsword) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapon to "great bronze mace") (set: $monsterweapondm to $greatbronzemace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Adrenaline runs through your arms as you grib the long spear in your hand. You turn to take in the room. Another figure steps through the portal - hunched and full of malice. You've barely time to take it in before a skeleton spots you - lumbering forward with a great bronze mace - [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $myweapon to "flat-bladed spear") (set: $myweapondm to $flatbladespear) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapon to "great bronze mace") (set: $monsterweapondm to $greatbronzemace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Adrenaline runs through your arms as you grib the saber in your hand. You turn to take in the room. Another figure steps through the portal - hunched and full of malice. You've barely time to take it in before a skeleton spots you - lumbering forward with a great bronze mace - [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $myweapon to "dueling saber") (set: $myweapondm to $duelingsaber) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monsterweapon to "great bronze mace") (set: $monsterweapondm to $greatbronzemace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Rushing across the floor, you nearly stumble over the body of a bloody soldier. His arm is several steps away on the floor, a mess of blood pooling on the wood around it. His throat and chest are red and ripped as though by claws. The countess and her group are just ahead. Three creatures stalk them, and your breath catches hard in your throat as you lurch around the blood. They are wolves, if wolves walked on two legs and clutched weapons in hands with four long, clawed fingers. Each claw is night-black and as long as your thumb; the fangs in their canine jaws shine yellow in the torchlight. They stalk the Countess and her tiny group, herding them like wolves trying to cut a wounded yak from the herd, and as you watch - shaking now, hurrying and trying to keep your hand steady - one of the wolves lunges forward and swipes - [[Attack!->AttackToHelpCountess]]

You turn with the mire of skeletons on your $myweapon, breathing hard, and look - a little wildly - for Mackenzi. She stands with her chair-leg-club raised in defense, looking a little bit wild. "Well. That...//fuck//." She huffs a breath. "Behind you!" She cries, and you whirl- A skeleton with an ancient curving sword attacks - [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedJournalist2") (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapon to "curving sword") (set: $monsterweaponbonusvs to "nightwolf") (set: $fightth to (2)) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

You let the $monster fall. Several breaths pass as you both look around. The clang of metal on metal rises as loud as the music from moments before. A partier screams as he dies beneath a living skeleton's mace. "Fuck", Mackenzie says again. Abruptly she reaches up to the back of her head. She pulls her hair out of its twist with a single clawing motion, and her dark hair tumbles down over her shoulders. She shrugs out of her high-collared jacket and tosses it onto the nearest table. Catching your eye, she smirks a knowing smile. "I'm with you," she says confidently. [["Follow me."->JournalistJoins]] [["We need to save everyone."->Cant]] (set: $followpsg to "LookAround")

Mackenzi smiles, a sultry smile that lights up her dark-rimmed eyes and takes your mind far away from the room for a moment. "Time to kick some asses," she declares. And then, conversationally: "Take your pick." [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $turns to $turns + 1) (set: $Mackenzie's tried to true)  (set: $Mackenzie's saved to true) (set: $Mackenzie's following to true)

"You can't." She says flatly. "I know how these go. Some people will die, no matter how good you are." She looks over your shoulder. "It's happening already." [["Stay close."->JournalistJoins]] [["You're on your own."->MackenzieReconnect]]

"Fine." She straightens, and looks around. "Fuck. See you on the other side." She crouches behind a table, chair-leg clutched in her hand. You step away into the room. [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $Mackenzie's saved to false)

Music thumps from a band on a raised wooden stage. Wine flows from a row of decanters on two tables by the south wall; the sandstone floor is stained with droplets small and large from the partiers. The music rises, and you (dropdown: 2bind $mydance,"dance with abandon","nod absently","sway gently") as it rolls over your eardrums. It's difficult for you to relax; your job isn't done. As junior ambassador from the (dropdown: 2bind $mykingdom,"Blue","Red","Yellow","Green","Silver","Black","Golden") (dropdown: 2bind $kingdom, "Kingdom", "Duchy", "Barony", "Republic", "Empire", "Country"), your job here is to mingle. To make friends, and secure allies. A tall, thin, bald man clasps your forearm in greeting. "Relax," he tells you. [[Continue->S2]]

Zagreb, the senior ambassador from the $mykingdom $kingdom, grins at your frown. "No one's going to talk to you with that expression," he says with a note of truth. "Come on. It's a party. You're hot. Do what you're here for." If there's some impropriety in Zagreb calling you 'hot', it comes from a place not of the $mykingdom $kingdom. Here, it's just an asset. And anyway, he's right. Your (dropdown: 2bind $myclothes,"conservative","close-fitting","frankly provocative") clothes do nothing to hide the fact that you have a body that draws the eyes. [["What do you want?"->S3]] (set: $mycolor to $mykingdom)

"Less wine, for one." Zagreb says comfortably. He pours most of his crystal-clear glass into an artfully green potted plant. [["That can't be good for it"->S35]] [[Wait for it->S4]]

"They have too many plants," Zagreb says, though he looks a little abashed. He swirls the remaining two fingers' liquid in his goblet thoughtfully. And shrugs, consternation disappearing like a morning fog on the dells. Great thinker, is Zagreb. [["So what are you actually doing?"->S4]]

"Playing chicken with the duke," Zagreb says calmly. You don't have to follow an eye or gesture to see the duke - a dark-haired man well into his twenties, fit and richly dressed in gold that clashes magnificently with his hair - holding sway in a small circle of admirers. This is classic Zagreb. Be seen, but keep yourself occupied. Wait for the target to become annoyed, or curious, or both. Start the battle on your own terms, if you will. [["Glad I could help."->S5]]

"You can help," Zagreb says cuttingly, "By chatting up one of the marks like we discussed." You frown. [["They're not 'marks'->S57]] [["Why?"->WhyHelp]]

You spot Mackenzi in a small circle, dancing more than talking. Sucking in a breath, you make your way over. Up close, her expression is serious, though she smiles with painted lips and a few polite words. Her jacket is dark and brocaded richly up to a high and open collar; her blouse beneath is cream, and her pants are wide and flowing over her legs. The drink in her hand is neither full nor empty. Her eyes track you before you've covered half the distance and she disengages from the circle with a polite and sad smile. "Ambassador!" She greets you with a professional smile. "Here to soften me up?" [["Uh, what?"->MM25]] [["You caught me."->MM2]]

"Oh, come on. I know you didn't come over for my good looks and charm." Mackenzi shakes her head at you, and tilts her head at the drinks table nearby. You don't really need a drink, but you walk a few steps anyway. "Your boss is just shameless," she says. She looks you up and down rather brazenly. "Dressing you like that." [["He doesn't choose what I wear!"->MM35]] [["What, you don't like it?"->MM3]]

Her smile grows a fraction, and she tilts her head at the drinks table nearby. You don't really need a drink, but you walk a few steps anyway. "Your boss is just shameless," she says. She looks you up and down rather brazenly. "Dressing you like that." [["He doesn't choose what I wear!"->MM35]] [["What, you don't like it?"->MM3]]

Mackenzi snorts. "Touchy subject," she banters. "Not sorry. So what are you offering? Exclusive access? Priviledged distribution?" [["I'm just talking."->MM4]]

Mackenzi snorts. "Nice try," she replies. She picks at a cracker. "So what are you offering? Exclusive access? Priviledged distribution?" [["I'm just talking."->MM4]]

"Alright. So what are you here for, then? If he's the negotiator - that makes you security, right? His bodyguard?" You freeze - just for a moment. She's guessed right. [["No." (lie)->MMend]] [["That's a secret."->MM5]] [["Sure."->MM5]]

"Hm. Ok. Well, nice talking to you." Mackenzie drifts away, with more skill than you will ever have at these kinds of things. You let out a breath. Time to reset. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Look around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Look around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Mackenzie's talked to true)

(either: "Drifting among the dancers,", "Moving closer to the stage,", "Not forgetting your mission,") you cast your gaze around the room. Zagreb's 'marks' are easy to pick out. - A dark-haired woman with a stylish jacket, mingling near a table full of strong drinks: Mackenzie Zora, a well-connected tableteer. (if: $Mackenzie's talked)[(I've already talked to Mackenzie.)](else:)[[[Talk to Mackenzie->MeetMackenzi]]] - An auburn-haired woman in a gauzy dress, close in the circle around the duke: the Countess Nadinia Nova, the duke's current lover and rumored to be smart as an arctic wolf. (if: $Countess's talked)[(I've already talked to the Countess.)](else:)[[[Talk to the Countess->MeetNadiniaP1]]] - A white-haired man with a close shave and a large, dark jacket, standing by himself without apparent concern: Havek 'Hav' Gilmash, rumored spymaster for the duke. (if: $Havek's talked)[(I've already talked to Havek.)](else:)[[[Talk to Havek->MeetHavek]]] - A large, laughing man with a black beard that touches his wide yellow collar: Mev Shokov, the powerful head of the financial guild. (if: $Mev's talked)[(I've already talked to Mev.)](else:)[[[Talk to Mev->MeetMev]]] [[Let yourself dance.->JustDance]] [[I've talked to all I want to.->TriggerMain]] (set: $meetturns to it + 1)

"Oh, come on. It can't be //that// secret. So what are you, then. A mage? Blademaster? Epic kung-fu artist?" [["I'm best with a sword."->MMSword]] [["I'm good with knives."->MMKnives]] [["I'm great with a spear."->MMSpear]]

"Good." Mackenzie turns away, artfully putting distance between you. "Now go bother someone else. I don't want to be working right now." You nod - but she's already fully turned. One day you might be as good at that as she is. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Look around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Look around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Mackenzie's talked to true)

"No more questions." Mackenzie turns away, artfully putting distance between you. "You gave me something. I gave you back. Now go bother someone else. I don't want to be working right now." You nod - but she's already fully turned. One day you might be as good at that as she is. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Look around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Look around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Mackenzie's talked to true)

Nodding to yourself, you pour yourself another drink. Alcohol is what you need to get you through the rest of the night. It's as you are pouring - a thick, aromatic red wine - you feel the single pulse through the air, like breath blown out of a giant pair of lungs. Every door to the room slams closed at the same time. And from the dais with the band, from an alcove just behind the stage, a dark-robed figure waves their hand in a snakelike motion. A ball of purple light spins through the air. It stops two steps away from the man you recognize as the duke. And snaps into a mirrored shape - flat on one side, oval on another, taller than the duke by half his body-length. The base of it dips impossibly into the sandstone floor. The lights in the entire room flicker. You take a breath. [[Breathe->PortalOpens]]

"Boring, but acceptable." Mackenzi chooses a wine, then sets it back. She speaks at the decanter: "But a fact for fact. Fair warning, and all that. The duke has new help too - a mage, maybe an occultist." She picks up the decanter again. "Details are sketchy. But there've been some changes in his court, and a lot of it traces back to him. A lot of us are laying low, for a bit." She holds your eye for an extra moment, kohl-rimmed but crystal clear despite the time of night. [["I get it."->MM6]] [["What's his name?"->QDenied]] (set: $myskill to "sword")

"Hmmmm, nasty." Her smile grows to that of a wolf in her lair. "That just drips of skull-duggery. Perfect." Mackenzi stops on a particular decanter, rich and unopened. She rests her fingers on the stem. "Interesting fact for interesting fact," she says. "Fair warning, and all that. The duke has new help too - a mage, maybe an occultist." She picks up the decanter. "Details are sketchy. But there've been some changes in his court, and a lot of it traces back to him. A lot of us are laying low, for a bit." She holds your eye for an extra moment, kohl-rimmed but crystal clear despite the time of night. [["I get it."->MM6]] [["What's his name?"->QDenied]] (set: $myskill to "knife")

"What, are you doing fieldwork?" Mackenzi asks drily. She sets her fingers on a decanter, rich and white and halfway empty. "But I do have a fact for you. Fair warning, and all that. The duke has new help too - a mage, maybe an occultist." She picks up the decanter. "Details are sketchy. But there've been some changes in his court, and a lot of it traces back to him. A lot of us are laying low, for a bit." She holds your eye for an extra moment, kohl-rimmed but crystal clear despite the time of night. [["I get it."->MM6]] [["What's his name?"->QDenied]] (set: $myskill to "pike")

You have little time to think. A skeleton lurches after a pair of drunk partiers. One stumbles, giggling, dodging death by a blithe finger's breath. The other pulls him forward, her makeup running with tears. You launch yourself at the animated creature, and it whirls to meet you with preternatural awareness. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "LookAround") (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $hookedpike) (set: $fightth to (random: (2))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1) (set: $Drunk's saved to true)

"Ambassador!" (if: $metamram)[Amram](else:)[The barrel-chested priest] heaves a breath after his words. His eyes are glittering and bright, and seem to have trouble focusing on you(if: $Mackenzie's following is true)[ and Mackenzie]. The ring of bones and shattered skeletons seems beneath his notice. He eyes your $myweapon, and nods with the approval of a man who's never touched a weapon. "Your help was unnecessary. There are others in greater need." [["Right. I'll be going then."->SA25]] [["That's not what I saw."->SA2]] (set: $Mystics's talked to true)

"Blessings of - well - " Amram splutters, and you shake your head. The acolytes shift like sheep behind you. You've no more time to dally. A triplet of skeletons singles you out - armed with the long, hooked scythes designed to rip trained soldiers to shreds. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedAcolytes2") (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 3) (set: $monsterweapon to "scythes") (set: $fightth to (random: (2,4))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

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"Blessings of Ra and all his chosen - " You tune him out. Your breath comes hot in your chest. A triplet of skeletons singles you out - armed with the long, hooked scythes designed to rip trained soldiers to shreds. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedAcolytes2") (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 3) (set: $monsterweapon to "scythes") (set: $fightth to (random: (2,4))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Decision made, you throw yourself forward. The skeletons form a ring around the 3 grey-robed mystics, who hold them off with bursts of sunlike energy that blast bones off of frames and some ways beyond. You almost think they'll be all right without you - when a skeleton steps straight through a blast to its ribs and stabs a barrel-chested priest right through his heart. A charging cry escapes your throat, and the skeletons and mystics turn almost as one. You've barely time to register their faces. Four skeletons level spears at you. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedAcolytes") (set: $Mystics's tried to true) (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 3) (set: $monsterweapondm to $flatbladespear) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Panting, you nearly whirl as a hand comes down on your shoulder. It's Aarmas, his expression grave. "Blessings of Ra -" You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"roll your eyes","nod solemnly","wait stoicly")

"Your new friends, then," Zagreb says too easily. "Who will just coincidentally be whispering our case into the duke's delectable ear." He shrugs. "How you do it is up to you. Just make sure they're on our side by the end of tonight." [["Why?"->WhyHelp]]

As casually as you can, you cast your gaze around the room. - A dark-haired woman with a stylish jacket, mingling near a table full of strong drinks: Mackenzie Zora, a well-connected tableteer. - An auburn-haired woman in a gauzy dress, close in the circle around the duke: Nadinia Nova, the duke's current lover and rumored to be smart as an arctic wolf. - A cuttingly lean man with a close shave and hawkish eyes: Havek Gmon, the long rumored to be the duke's spymaster. - A large, laughing man with a black beard that touches his wide yellow collar: Mev Shokov, the powerful head of the financial guild. Zachab turns away, in search of another drink. You decide to seek out: [[Find Mackenzie->MeetMackenzi]] [[Speak to Nadinia->MeetNadiniaP1]] [[Talk to Mev->MeetMev]] [[Catch Hav->MeetHavek]]

"Because right now a dozen $mykingdom $kingdom travellers are languishing in the lovely duke's prisons, for no other crime than crossing the duke's border." Zagreb says, with surprising strength. "Because the duke has laid a total embargo on all $mykingdom $kingdom traders. Because it's in the $kingdom's best interest." Zagreb looks back around the room. "Don't be fooled by the display," he says comfortably. "This pack of rats is all here for the same reason." [["You're a cynic."->IsCynic]]

"I am," Zagreb agrees comfortably. "But I also know what I'm doing." He sips comfortably from his goblet. You're pretty sure he's only pretending to drink; his eyes are the dark and watchful eyes of a predatory bird. "You should probably start soon," Zagreb prompts you. You sigh. Your glass is nearly empty anyway, and unlike Zagreb, you //have// been drinking.  [[Look around casually->LookAroundForMeets]]

You quickly crouch and lift the $monster's (print: $droppedweapondm's label) in your hand. It's heavy and cold, and you swing it twice experimentally. This weapon will give you advantage against //(print: $droppedweapondm's bonusvs)s//. (if: $Countess's following is true and $Countess's weapon is "none" and $droppedweapondm's type is "pike")["I require a pike," the countess reminds you. [["It's yours."->PikeToCountess]]]\ (if: $Mackenzie's following is true and $Mackenzie's weapon is "chair leg" and $droppedweapondm's type is "mace")["I'll take that," Mackenzie says firmly. [["You can have it."->MaceToMackenzie]]]\  \ [[Keep your $myweapon->KeepSameWeapon]] [[Switch to this (print: $droppedweapondm's type)->EquipNewWeapon]]

You let the (print: $droppedweapondm's type) fall. You rise to your feet in practiced motion - the fighting growing around you. [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

(if: $myweapontype is not "none")[Nodding to yourself, you set your $myweapon carefully on the ground. Perhaps someone else will use it. ] Gripping the (print: $droppedweapondm's label), you swing it twice more through the air. You look around for something to fight. [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $myweapon to $droppedweapondm's label) (set: $myweapontype to $droppedweapondm's type)  (set: $myweaponbonusvs to $droppedweapondm's bonusvs)  (set: $myweapondm to $droppedweapondm) (set: $droppedweapondm to $noweapon)

Help them? I suppose we need to chain these together. You need a trigger - - Mackenzie says,

You charge without hesitation, your soft-clad feet pounding hard on the polished dancing floor. The golem thumps forward, shattering a low wooden table in the way. Struck by a spinning baulk, the partier scrambles for her feet. The golem swings a heavy fist at her head - And your $myweapon gets in the way, a jarring clang runing up your elbows and into your arms and back. You bodycheck the massive creature with your outside shoulder, and it stumbles not a single step - but you do succeed in grabbing its attention. The skull turns unreasonably far on its neck, flat black eyes showing no sign of life at all. It grunts, as if in sudden thought. You throw yourself back into a ready stance, and only just in time. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedPretty") (set: $triedpretty to true) (set: $monster to "golem") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapon to "cleaver") (set: $monsterweaponbonusvs to "skeleton") (if: $myweapondm's bonusvs is "golem")[(set: $fightth to 1)](else:)[(set: $fightth to (random: (2,3)))] (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

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A hand falls on your shoulder - you whirl, checking your weapon just in time, and with a curse. The pretty partier looks down at your outstretched (print: $myweapondm's type). Her fingers are warm on your arm. Her eyes meet yours - rich purple inside deep brows; an oval face with generous and quirking lips. "Don't die tonight," she commands in a melodious voice. "I'll want to find you later." Her eyes look you over invitingly. [["I'd like that."->PrettySetDate]] [["Sorry, not interested."->PrettyNoDate]]

The second golem slumps across the floor. Its clay form softens, arms and legs and heads becoming little more than blobs. Whatever magic held it together is clearly gone. You turn around only briefly - the partier you just saved is safely disappeared, at least for the moment. You suck in a breath. You have a moment to view the scene: [[Look around->LookAround]] [[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]] (set: $Pretty's saved to true) (set: $Pretty's tried to true) (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

(set: $Duke to (dm: "killedmage", false, "ismage", false, "isalive", true, "isarrested", false, "toldstory", true, "ending", "in power"))  (set: $Mackenzie to (dm: "talked", false, "tried", false, "seen", false, "saved", false, "following", false, "weapon", "chair leg", "leavingwith", false, "ending", "none", "zapped", false))\ (set: $Countess to (dm: "talked", false, "tried", false, "seen", false, "saved", false, "following", false, "weapon", "none", "toldstory", false, "killedduke", false, "zapped", false))\ (set: $Mev to (dm: "talked", false, "tried", false, "seen", false, "saved", false, "following", false, "weapon", "serving knife", "zapped", false))\ (set: $Havek to (dm: "talked", false, "tried", false, "seen", false, "saved", false, "following", false, "betrayed", false, "weapon", "punching dagger", "zapped", false))\ (set: $Mystics to (dm: "talked", false, "tried", false, "seen", false, "saved", false, "following", false, "weapon", "golden amulet", "zapped", false))\ (set: $metamram to false)   \ (set: $Pretty to (dm: "seen", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ \ (set: $Handsome to (dm: "seen", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ \ (set: $Angry to (dm: "seen", false, "talked", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ (set: $Flutist to (dm: "seen", false, "talked", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ (set: $Peevish to (dm: "seen", false, "talked", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ (set: $Arrogant to (dm: "seen", false, "talked", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))\ (set: $Drunk to (dm: "seen", false, "talked", false, "tried", false, "saved", false))

The monster chases you halfheartedly, but you're able to evade it by dodging around a pair of high tables. [[Continue->LookAround]]

Your sword gives you a huge advantage for fighting skeletons The skeleton fights with malice and purpose, but your mace gives you a solid advantage. With a mighty swing, you shatter it's forearm in a flurry of bone. Its weapon clatters to the floor, and you finish it with a solid club to the skull. With a lunge, the golem strikes with a cleaver as long as a table. You d The golem attacks with a cleaver as long as your arm. Each block rings . "Nice going," Kazak says rather breathlessly. "This is never going to end with //that// thing open," Mackenzie says, pointing at the shimmering portal. "You need to take it out." [["//I// need?"]] "You see anyone else who can?" Mackenzie asks, waving her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) at the glowing surface. As you watch, another pair of skeletons step through. They shake themselves as though waking from a winter slumber, and ripple their bony fingers on the grips of their long bronze swords. "They'll keep sending more. The longer we wait - " "Got it," you grunt, as a one-armed skeleton stumbles into the open and locks red eyes onto you with malicious intent. You raise your $myweapon in wary preparation. [[Fight!->Fight It's guarded by one of the mages - the bald one. (if: $seenportal)[[[Attack the portal->AttackPortalStart]]

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You find yourself with a moment to breathe. Your $myweapon shakes in your hand; your muscles are tight, your neck a constant swivel. Around you, skeletons and partiers and soldiers and wolf-things all dance in a swirl of violent terror. "This is never going to end," Mackenzie says, breathing hard and with her hair askew. "Not with //that// thing open." She points across the sea of living bones to the shimmering mirror near the stage. The mage's portal, purple like the last of twilight; defended by a bald mage shooting green balls of fire out of his palms. "We've got to take it out," Mackenzie orders. [["We?"->MSP2]] (set: $lookaroundpsg to "LookAround")

"You see anyone else who can?" Mackenzie asks, waving her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) as though circling on a map. Another pair of skeletons step through as you watch. Together they shake themselves, as though waking from a winter slumber, and ripple their bony fingers on the grips of their stubby bronze swords. "They'll keep sending more," Mackenzie points out. "The longer we wait - " "Got it," you grunt, as a one-armed skeleton stumbles into the open and locks red eyes onto you with malicious intent. You raise your $myweapon in wary preparation. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "LookAround") (set: $monster to "one-armed skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapon to "stubby sword") (set: $fightth to (2) - $vsskeletons) (set: $turns to $turns + 1) (set: $seenportal to true)

You charge at the bald mage. He sees you coming. With a fierce look he pivots to face you. His fingers glow, and tendrils of wriggling light flow from the tips of his nails into yarnlike balls of magic. There's one in each hand before he casts them. Your world flashes green - the magic splashes like rainwater against a window, splattering off an invisible shield a stride or so in front of you. Behind you, Tarissa gives a grunt, as though shoving off a great weight. You dare not look behind you. "Go! Now!" She commands, as though you are an idiot, and you're jolted away from watching the yarn-light slither and back onto the single mage in front of you. His startled look turns quickly into hate as he pulls his pale arms back to call down another spell. You have only seconds to move - [[Charge!->ChargeMagePortal]]

With a cry you launch yourself across the remaining distance. Your steps pound hard on the smooth wooden dance floor and your breath comes hard through your throat; something rips in your clothing as you push yourself to your absolute limit. Green light falls into the mage's right hand - And your $myweapon punches right through the base of his throat and clear out the other side. Your body slams into his and you tumble together on the floor. Something hot sears past your leg as you scramble to your feet. Hot blood sings through the air as you yank your weapon back from the fallen mage's neck. You suck hard on your breath, some animal instinct watching the mage on the floor, ready for him to rise again. But he doesn't. Red blood flows from his neck and spreads like spilled wine on the floor. The clang of metal weapons and the cries of terrified partiers are suddenly far away. "The portal!" Tarissa cries, running up behind you and stepping carefully around the blood. Her eyes are wide, the mascara run down from the corners like chalk in the rain; and the necklace on her chest seems to glow with light and power. "Quickly - cut it down!" She commands. [["How?"->KillPortal]]

Without further discussion you throw yourself into a run. The portal isn't more than thirty seconds away - but the bald mage sees you coming. With a fierce look he pivots to face you. His fingers glow, and tendrils of wriggling light flow from the tips of his nails into yarnlike balls of magic. There's one in each hand before he casts them. Your world flashes green - [[Blink->APFD2]]

"Break the ring," Tarissa says. "The boundary is fuzzy. But careful, it -" You shove your $myweapon into the portal's rim - just as she says, the boundary seems to waver, as though seen through smoke or a strong haze. A tremble passes through your weapon and up into your wrists. The fuzziness widens. Your (print: $myweapondm's type) seems to widen as well. It cracks, and a wrenching smell escapes. A deep-black hole, small enough to be plugged by your finger, appears where your weapon meets the portal. A high-pitched whistle cuts through the battle sounds around you, like steam from a kettle. Your (print: $myweapondm's type) twists violently, and then something //snaps//; the tension disappears, and with a great slurp the portal shrinks into itself, into a single point of dusk-bright light. And then that, too, disappears. In the sudden darkness you stare at your too-light weapon. Three-quarters of its length is gone, sheared neatly and with a new edge as clean and sharp as any a blacksmith could shave. You wave it around experimentally. It's little more than a knife. [["What the hell?"->PostPortalKill1]]

And with a cry and sear of terrible heat, a flash of pain so intense it wipes all thought from your mind, you find yourself thrown backward. For a moment you can see nothing. Then you open your eyes, looking down from what seems to be the ceiling. There is a body on the floor. It looks pristine, untouched by terrible magic, the grime and sweat and fear of this terrible night all wiped away. The body is you. That person is dead. You sigh your last breath and let yourself rise into the next life. //Game Over//

You make your way towards Mev, bouncing slightly to keep from looking like a total party-killer. Mev sees you coming, and with a slight turn, opens his posture to welcome you into his conversation. His conversation partner looks up in annoyance. "And?" Mev takes you in with a glance, one that takes in more than your looks. His thick and articulate eyebrows twitch and flutter as he talks. "As I was saying," he continues, to the man at his right. "There is no need for transfer-fees; the caravans will pass on costs as they see fit, regardless of what we do. You haven't though this through." "But -" protests the man with a wide mustache and the eyes of dog without its pack. "No 'but'", Mev says firmly. And then, with much more interest: "But now it seems I have a new proposal." He turns to you, expertly framing the mustached man out of view. His bow is slight, and seems to you slightly ironic. "You must be the understudy," Mev says. [["You could say that."->MMNice]] [["'Understudy?'"->MMNice]] [["'Ambassador', you mean."->MMCorrect]]

"Nothing," the merchant says, and in his eyes is the weight of a man who has already tried everything he knows. "I have already tried. The Duke knows my mind. You see me here - drinking valuable wine and arguing with guildmasters over basic economics." He gestures, and his drink does not spill; it seems a practiced move. "You ask what you can change. Ask instead what it is that is already changed." [[Raise your eyebrows->MMWho]] [["What changed?"->MMWho]]

"Why anything?" Mev asks, and a false smile returns to his face; false, and somewhat sad. "Fear and problem-blaming are as old as sand and rust. He is not the first Duke to adopt them." You frown, as the music changes around you - from an upbeat dancing tune to a slow and powerful ballad. [["What can we do?"->WhatDoFees]]

The merchant tucks his chin seriously. "I see your contemporary, hard at work on the Duke," he says. "I don't suppose I'm offended. Change the Duke's mind, and all my badgering won't count for a hair in a sandstorm. So you're the understudy." [["He hasn't got a chance."->MMInsultDuke]] [["You're more important. Not him."->MMInsultDuke]]

The merchant tucks his chin seriously. "I see the ambassador," he says. "Hard at work on the Duke. I've seen him many times, on previous visits. You, however, are new." He shrugs, a disarming smile on his face that doesn't come anywhere close to his eyes. "I don't suppose I'm offended," Mev continues. "Change the Duke's mind, and all my badgering won't count for a hair in a sandstorm. I'll consider myself lucky to get any treatment at all." [["He hasn't got a chance."->MMInsultDuke]] [["You're more important. Not him."->MMInsultDuke]]

"Careful." The merchant chuckles deep in his throat, but you can see that his eyes are wary. "I see that you meant it in jest. But jests about the Duke's relevance and importance..." he shrugs and settles his shoulders, like a turtle resetting itself after being tossed. "No matter. Your interest is in removing the tariffs, I presume?" [["Yes"->MMAskTariffs]] [["Actually, it's the prisoners"->MMAskPrisoners]]

"Our interests are in common," the merchant says comfortably. "Ours, and the those of the guilds - metalworkers', clothiers', and moneylenders' - those most of all. You most certainly have our vote of support." [["But?"->MMT2]]

"Ah. I cannot help you with that - beyond my scales, as it were. Best talk to...someone closer to the Duke, if that's your goal." You can see by his eyes - and his rather set expression - that he's telling the truth. You'll get nothing more from him about freeing the prisoners. [["Tariffs, then."->MMAskTariffs]]

The merchant lowers his voice. His eyes flit casually over the room as he speaks. "He fears foreign influence," the merchant says, and though his lips are moving, it's only your (dropdown: 2bind $myhearing,"exceptional hearing","training in lip-reading") that lets you pick out the words. "The fees and arrests and all the rest - it's meant to keep foreigners out. To keep you out." [["What can we do?"->WhatDoFees]] [["Why?"->WhyFearForeigners]]

The merchant waggles his eyebrows. You'd swear a smirk passes over his features, like a monster casting ripples through a lake. "Not 'what'," the merchant corrects you. "'who'." The last word you catch only by your $myhearing. You narrow your eyes. You sense this might be the end of the conversation. [[Nod seriously->MMExit]] [["Thank you."->MMThank]]

"Do not thank me; I cannot help you, now or later." The merchant's voice is full again, and though his eyes are bright, it seems his focus is back on the rest of the room. A drunken pair of partiers stumble close by his other shoulder; they don't notice Mev, but they definitely notice you. [["I should be going."->MMCleanExit]]

The merchant nods, as if in closure. "We're done, I think," he says, and as expertly as he brought you into his orbit, he now rejects you. You stare at the back of his shoulder for a moment, wondering if you can get more out of him. But before you can come to a decision, the merchant steps adroitly away, intersecting a rather wobegone councellor on her way to the well-stocked buffett table. You're left, once again, to your own devices. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Drift around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Drift around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Mev's talked to true)

"Of course," Mev says graciously, and almost before you can move, he's turned away, leaving you, once again, to your own devices. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Drift around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Drift around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Mev's talked to true)

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Let's see, fight loop faster? if your weapon has bonus vs. this enemy type, kill it in 1 (pikes/spears vs. wolf-things, maces vs. skeletons A new dawn peeks bright beneath the now-open doors. A dinosaur cries in the early morning light, a sound of mourning, and loss. Its feelings echo your own. "Klekker," breathes Melissa almost in your ear. "Just a rumor." The countess touches your arm as you turn to go. The countess holds your eyes, eyes rimmed with painted gold, gold like the rims of her ears and a short stripe just beneath her lower lip. Beneath the gold her eyes are pale, almost small - but they are human. "I have questions," she says in a voice that does not carry well above the music, but the lock of her eyes is unmistakable. "Walk with me." It sounds odd - it shouldn't, but it does - those words coming from someone with such a soft voice. So unlike the tone of command you often here. [[Ignore her [["Of course." The countess doesn't wait for you. Her filmy dress flatters her legs as she strides completely in the other direction, and you're forced to walk very quickly indeed to catch up beside her. She glances in your direction, just a shift of her chin. "Your merchants sold him //izgan//," she says, as though updating you about the latest crop reports. "And spellbooks, from the libraries of Zad." She waits for your answer, as you rapidly try to remember what in the hells //izgan// is. [['izgan'? "Yes. Do not deny it, I have it in records. I can name the merchants, if it comes to that." There is fervor in her voice, the intensity of somewhat used to being ignored. [["I believe you. I meant, 'what is //izgan//'?]] [["Our merchants sell everything." "Oh. We call it 'planestone'." She continues to walk, faster than most of the partiers, fast enough that you're a little bit worried about causing a scene. "I don't know its other names. It is a purple powder with a large grain. Its uses are for magic - for spells." [["Is that illegal?" "No." the Countess admits, but there are layers to that 'no', layers of regret and annoyance and, you think you detect, the fires of judgment. "Not in your country, anyway. Most magic is discouraged here, except in service of the duke." A loitering knot of partiers gives the Countess a long and lingering look. She ignores them, bending her path just slightly. "My question is: if a buyer wants both a large quantity of //izgan//, and a particular spellbook, what would you think?" The answer is obvious. [["They're going to cast spells." "Spells from the book," the Countess prompts. "Sure," you agree. "What's in the book?" The Countess gives you a look, in the lower light near the farthest wall from the band. The glitter around her eyes shines out like a mask. "Summoning spells," she says softly, and the words send a shiver down your arms. "Summoning creatures from the other plane. Creatures of all kinds. Bound solely to the person who summons them." The Countess doesn't stop walking, though now she slows. You rapidly try to make sense of what you've heard. [["But it's not illegal." "Nothing he does is illegal," the Countess says with a much smaller fraction of bitterness than you would. "That makes it less dangerous, somehow?" She shakes her head, not waiting for your answer. "I tell you for a reason. These words are for your leader - your queen, not for you. They must reach her, as soon as possible." [["We're leaving in three days." "Leave sooner." The command is soft, but deep with meaning; her eyes catch yours once again, grey in the half-light. "Your ambassador is talented: he can make up a reason. If he were sober, I would have him leave tonight." //A testament to Zagreb's acting//, you think to yourself; for he is assuredly //not// drunk on a diplomatic mission to a frenemy. But that is beside the point, as you realize the Countess is waiting for an answer. [["I'll talk to him."]] "You must do more than talk." [["I'll do my best." [["I'll persuade him." The Countess nods. You watch her breathe in deeply through her chest, and let it out softly through her lips. She stares straight ahead, undistracted by the knot of conversation some ten paces away, even though there are a few eyes on her. She nods again, softly, firmly, as though setting herself on a new course. She lets out another breath, and the tension falls out of her shoulders like it was never there. "Good." she says. "I must go. You should stay here. Try and mingle. Maybe meet someone." Her smile is small but genuine, a break of sunlight after all the clouds. "I wish you well." She slips away, her golden dress clinging to her hips, and you're left aching a weighty and wishing you'd had more to drink tonight after all.

Double-click this passage to edit it.

The countess holds your eyes, eyes rimmed with painted gold, gold like the rims of her ears and a short stripe just beneath her lower lip. Beneath the gold her eyes are pale, almost small - but they are human. "I have questions," she says in a voice that does not carry well above the music, but the lock of her eyes is unmistakable. "Walk with me." It sounds odd - it shouldn't, but it does - those words coming from someone with such a soft voice. So unlike the tone of command you often here. [[Ignore her->MNSkipInteresting]] [["Of course."->MN2]]

The countess strides away from you, and you - conscious of appearances, and eager to get through Zagreb's 'marks', decide to break away. You don't dare look back. Losing yourself in a sweaty crowd of dancers, you weave you way through the deepest parts of the crowd and let the music wash away your guilt. High politics was never what you signed up for, anyway. After a dozen minutes, you duck your way back out again. The Countess is back with the group of gossiping hangers-on, and focused solely on the group. It's time to keep on mingling. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Drift around->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Drift around->MeetAmram]]] (set: $Nadinia's talked to true)

The countess moves quickly. Her filmy dress flatters her legs as she strides firmly away from you, and you force yourself not to hurry too much in catching up to her. Half a minute passes before you manage to drift back up to elbow distance. She glances at you from the corner of her eye. "Your merchants sold him //izgan//," she says, as though updating you about the latest crop reports. She doesn't stop walking, but the angle of her chin tells you she's waiting for your answer. You rapidly try to remember what in the planes //izgan// is. [['Izgan'?->DontDenyIzgan]] [["I don't know what you mean?"->DontDenyIzgan]]

"I see. We call it 'planestone'." She continues to walk, faster than most of the partiers, fast enough that you're a little bit worried about causing a scene. "I don't know its other names. It is a purple powder with a large grain. Its uses are for magic - for spells." [["Is that illegal?"->IsIllegal]]

"Yes. Do not deny it, I have it in records. I can name the merchants, if it comes to that." There is fervor in her voice, the intensity of somewhat used to being ignored. [["I believe you. I meant, 'what is //izgan//'?->WhatIsIzgan]] [["Our merchants sell everything."->MerchantsEverything]]

"Yes, and even things you would not sell to your own people," Nadinia replies. "//Izgan//, for instance, is restricted. Registered guilds and parcel limits and taxes. None of which are applied to exports." She shakes her head slightly, a mother disapproving of a child. "It would be silly, if it did not cause so much suffering." [["But what //is// izgan?"->WhatIsIzgan]]

"No." the Countess admits, but there are layers to that 'no', layers of regret and annoyance and, you think you detect, the fires of judgment. "Not in your country, anyway. Most magic is discouraged here, except in service of the duke." A loitering knot of partiers gives the Countess a long and lingering look. She ignores them, bending her path just slightly. Abruptly, she asks, "If a buyer wanted both a large quantity of //izgan//, and a particular spellbook, what would you think?" The answer is obvious. [["They're going to cast spells."->IzganImplications]]

"Spells from the book," the Countess prompts. "Sure," you agree. "What's in the book?" The Countess gives you a look, in the lower light near the farthest wall from the band. The glitter around her eyes shines out like a mask. "Summoning spells," she says softly, and the words send a shiver down your arms. "Summoning creatures from the other plane. Creatures of all kinds. Bound solely to the person who summons them." The Countess doesn't stop walking, though now she slows. You rapidly try to make sense of what you've heard. [["But it's not illegal."->Illegal2]]

"Nothing he does is illegal," the Countess says with a much smaller fraction of bitterness than you would. "That makes it less dangerous, somehow?" She shakes her head, not waiting for your answer. "I tell you for a reason," she continues. "These words are for your leader - your queen, not for you. They must reach her, as soon as possible." [["We're leaving in three days."->LeavingSoon]]

"Leave sooner." The command is soft, but deep with meaning; her eyes catch yours once again, grey in the half-light. "Your ambassador is talented: he can make up a reason. If he were sober, I would have him leave tonight." //A testament to Zagreb's acting//, you think to yourself; for he is assuredly //not// drunk on a diplomatic mission to a frenemy. But that is beside the point, as you realize the Countess is waiting for an answer. [["I'll talk to him."->PromiseTalk]] [["I'll persuade him."->PromisePersuade]]

"You must do more than talk." [["I'll do my best."->PromisePersuade]] [["I can't promise anything."->CantPromise]]

The Countess nods. You watch her breathe in deeply through her chest, and let it out softly through her lips. She stares straight ahead, undistracted by the knot of conversation some ten paces away, by the suddenly boisterous dance number, by the fumes of too many bodies and too many drinks in a room with not enough doors. She breathes again, and you watch tension fall out of her shoulders, rolling back and presenting like the woman you first saw. The countess nods to herself, softly, firmly, as though setting herself on a new course. "Good." she pronounces. "I must go. You should stay here. Try and mingle. Maybe meet someone." Her smile is small but genuine, a break of sunlight after all the clouds. "I wish you well." She slips away, her golden dress clinging to her hips, a vision in a room full of half-lit lamps and yellow light. The ache in your throat makes you wish you'd had more to drink tonight after all. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Continue mingling->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Continue mingling->MeetAmram]]]

The Countess sighs. "I wanted Zagreb," she says, and you sense her frustration. "Bloody drinks. He strengthened them all; he always does." This 'he' is the Duke. "What use is an ambassador if he's going to be bloody drunk?" She stares around for a moment, as though wondering what to do next. "I wish you well." She slips away, and the ache in your throat makes you wish you'd had less to drink tonight. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Continue mingling->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Continue mingling->MeetAmram]]]

You make yourself known meet nadinia placeholder [[Continue->MeetNadiniaP2]]

I have no memory of this place, said Gandalf as he staired at the passage before them. An arch of stone and wood and glass, half collapsed; the passage opening large enough for Hank to crouch-walk, maybe. Every instinct told him it would collapse as soon as he breathed on it. He could not believe this was the route Gandalf wanted. What do we arc? We freehand, of course. The fourth councillor - what's his name. Not elrond. Not elend. Journey, not destination. The creature did not run - it stalked. Backwards-folding knees gave it a forward bent; it needed no weapons (though it carried some), for the claws on its hand It might have been a wolf, from the snout except the eyes were round. Wolf. N Pikes vs. golems; swords (of all kinds) myweapon's type: sword (pike, club) myweapon's name: knives, stubby sword, bronze curved sword, mermaid sword Followers: if only 1 enemy, kill it in one round. Tarissa blasts its sternum with a burst of eldritch fire. Mackenzie whacks its shoulder with her chair leg. If more than 1 enemy, kill 1 backup enemy each time you kill an enemy I mean, better if: how about Tarissa just kills whatever (if more than one), OR if more than one round: hurry up already

(set: $curvedsword to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "curved sword", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $shortstubbysword to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "short stubby sword", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $shortcurvedsword to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "short, curved sword", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $sicklesword to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "sickle-sword", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $duelingsaber to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "dueling saber", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $stiletto to (dm: "type", "knife", "label", "stiletto", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $carvingknives to (dm: "type", "sword", "label", "carving knives", "bonusvs", "nightwolf")) (set: $spikedmace to (dm: "type", "mace", "label", "spiked mace", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $bluntmace to (dm: "type", "mace", "label", "blunt-spiked mace", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $squaretippedmace to (dm: "type", "mace", "label", "square-tipped mace", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $greatbronzemace to (dm: "type", "mace", "label", "great bronze mace", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $longspikedmace to (dm: "type", "mace", "label", "long-spiked mace", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $hookedpike to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "hooked pike", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $fatspear to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "fat-headed spear", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $flatbladespear to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "flat-blade spear", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $hooktippedpike to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "hook-tipped pike", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $shortspear to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "shortened spear", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $threemeterpike to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "three-meter pike", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $tassledspear to (dm: "type", "pike", "label", "tassled spear", "bonusvs", "golem")) (set: $lanternpole to (dm: "type", "staff", "label", "lantern pole", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $giantgildedaxe to (dm: "type", "axe", "label", "giant axe", "bonusvs", "skeleton")) (set: $noweapon to (dm: "type", "none", "label", "closed fist", "bonusvs", "none"))  (set: $myweapondm to (dm: "type", "none", "label", "open palm", "bonusvs", "none")) (set: $droppedweapondm to (dm: "type", "none", "label", "open palm", "bonusvs", "none")) (set: $monsterweapondm to (dm: "type", "none", "label", "open palm", "bonusvs", "none"))  (set: $myweapon to $myweapondm's label)

The wolf doesn't walk, it stalks. With a snarl the wolf-thing - why are there wolf things? Do there need to be wolf thigns? We do need variety, but on a theme. What is this world? The red $kingdom, merchants who sell everything, ok. The duke who's got hangars-on and a consort - perpetuating old stereoypes are we? Maybe. Man it does stick in your - sure, the world is more complicated. Forces you to accept some flexibility too. And it's valid, that you've had to struggle with this all the time - this much connection, vulnerability, emotion, You probably could. A transition for the inner self. A moment suspended in time.

With a cry you jump into the fray, attacking the closest wolf in a flurry of strikes with your $myweapon. It swirls with animal reflex and matches you blow for blow, and you quickly realize you're in for the fight of your life. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "HelpCountessSuccess") (set: $Countess's tried to true) (set: $monster to "nightwolf") (set: $monstercount to 3) (set: $monsterweapon to "sycle-sword") (set: $monsterweaponbonusvs to "nightwolf") (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3) - $vssoldiers)) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

Panting with effort, you turn to the little group behind you. Your $myweapon shakes in your hand; black ichor - you couldn't call it blood - drips from it's tip. The dead wolves lie in piles of fur and claw at your feet. Even now, you can't quite take your eyes off them. You step to one side, so you can see the bodies and talk to the countess. She's tending to one of her soldiers - a tough-looking woman who's still standing, with a deep rent through her left arm that now hangs limp and bleeding at her side. The countess is wrapping it in some kind of matted cloth. Her hands are as bloody as the soldier's arm. [["Are you alright?"->HCS2]]

"She needs bandages and a clean transfusion of blood. She'll pass out from blood loss if we don't stop the bleeding." The countess barely looks up; her fingers press and wind a long bandage around the soldiers shoulder. The soldier makes eye contact with you and grunts: shared resignation, satisfaction, and 'the-job's-not-done-yet' protest. "You need to kill the mage. Nynthos. He'll be close to the duke." the countess says as though prescribing treatment for infection. [["How do I get to him?"->HowGetNynthos]] (if: not $portalkilled)[[["What about the portal?"->AskPortal]]](else:)[[["I destroyed the portal."->AskPortal]] [["We destroyed the portal."->AskPortal]]] (set: $askeda to false)(set: $askedb to false)

The countess shakes her head, a firm, small motion. (if: $portalkilled)["The creatures are bound to the mage, not to the portal. To stop them you must kill the mage."](else:)["Nynthos won't stop summoning. Even if you close the portal, it won't be enough."] She looks up, as the clang of bronze and bone swells closer for a moment. "There aren't many soldiers left. Too few to destroy what's already in this room." (if: $askedb is not true)[[["How do I get to him?"->HowGetNynthos]]] (if: $askedb is true)[[["What about you?"->WhatAboutCountess]]] (set: $askeda to true)

"There's a spy-room on the west wall. He slipped inside when the portal open - I watched him do it. I tried to get there first." The countess shakes her head bitterly; she swallows. "I couldn't get there. These //things// came right after us. After me." She stares at the far wall, a curse between her narrowed eyes for a moment. "Bastard," she finishes, and you're not sure whether she means the mage Nynthos, the Duke, or something else. You suppose it doesn't matter. (if: $askeda is not true)[[["What about the portal?"->AskPortal]]] (if: $askeda is true)[[["What about you?"->WhatAboutCountess]]] (set: $askedb to true) (set: $seenspyroom to true)

You let yourself flow into the music, enjoying the thrum of the stretched-leather drums as they echo through your bones. Two singers trade off between songs - one a harmonious tenor, the other an emotional controlto. A woman plays a stiff-stringed instrument with the power and precision of an archer. It's easy music to dance to, and partiers school like fish in a dim and salty sea. Time passes like a current. Zagreb is nowhere to be seen. [[Look around->LookAroundForMeets]]

Because it's fun, of course. Because you can rescue or save or spare anyone you like. bBecause there are only thirty-seven ways out of this solution.

You burst out of the alcove, sprinting as fast as your (print: $myweapondm's type) will allow. You strain your eyes for the picture of the shrike that Havek references. "There!" Mackenzie cries, pointing at a spot in the far wall. You curve your path and charge. Skeletons lumber after you, dozens of clicking and clattering forms. A golem turns to gaze at you, munching on something in its jaws. A few small knots of partiers remain in corners fighting for their lives. (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa blasts a skeleton with a burst of sunlit yellow. Mackenzie clubs another who wanders too close. ](if: $Mev's following)[A golem turns and lumbers close, only to be driven off by Mev's wildly flashing pike.] The door is little more than a narrow line in the wall; a sliver of light shines out from beneath it. You pull up together in a tiny knot, harried and out of breath. The chaos of the room seems to pulse and slow, as dozens of red-glowing eyes turn in unision onto you. "This must be it," Mackenzie says with vigor false in her voice; she hefts her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) in both hands. "Time to //end// them. We'll hold them back; you go in, and be damned quick." [["We'll all go in."->SuggestAllGo]]

"Don't be an idiot," Mackenzie says. (if: $Mystics's following)[//She// can protect you from out here, right?](else:)[//"That// will protect you inside right?] You want us at your back. That's what you saved us for, wasn't it?" Her eyes are dark, her smile rueful, self-deprecating and with a hint of joy shining through at the end. The first of the skeletons takes a step back. Almost as one, two dozen others take a step towards you as well. [["You're right."->DontAllGoCynic]] [["It's about more than that."->DontAllGoEmpathy]]

You shove your shoulder as hard as you can against the wall. The door slams open. The room is small enough that you could toss a chair from one end to another. It's empty, except for three men. The Duke. The mage(if: $Countess's saved is true)[, who must be Nynthos.](else:)[.] And Zagreb. [["Boss!"->BossIsIn]] [["Boss???"->BossIsIn]]

"Wait!" Zagreb leaps forward, throwing himself between you and the mage and duke, and you check yourself before your $myweapon runs through him of its own accord. You heave yourself into a standstill, tense as a frightened cat, while three pairs of eyes all try to size you up and take you down at once. "You've got this all wrong. Stand down, //please//. That $myweapon - you won't need that here." [["I'll keep it, thanks."->KeepWeapon]] [[Tighten your grip.->KeepWeapon]] [[Set your $myweapon down."->Dumb]]

You set your (print: $myweapondm's type) carefully on the wooden floor. Zagreb's shoulders soften only a touch. "Ambassador," he says, and entreaty, admonishment, and command mix in his voice like a badly-made kabob. "I know this looks - well, it's exactly what it looks like. A coup, in the name of Duke Edze Narzaramm. We're on the right side. The side of the $mycolor $kingdom." Your breath comes heavy in your throat; adrenaline crashes like stormy waves as you try to process his words. [["You're in on this???->RevealZagreb]] [["So...we're in on this?"->RevealZagreb]]

Mackenzie snorts. "Good," she says, turning on the balls of her feet. The golems are moving now, their footsteps shaking the floor beneath your stance. (if: $Mystics's following)["Please hurry," Tarissa says, pinching her amulet tightly. ] (if: $Mev's following)["Knock 'em dead," says Mev, raising his (print: $Mev's weapon) in salute that becomes a ready stance. ] [[Break down the door->BreakIntoBossRoomActual]]

"Of course it is," Mackenzie says. "But if you make this a sob story, I swear I'll kill you myself." The golems are moving now, their footsteps shaking the floor beneath your feet. One grabs a skeleton from behind and tosses it out of its way. (if: $Mystics's following)["Please hurry," Tarissa says, pinching her amulet tightly. ] (if: $Mev's following)["Knock 'em dead," says Mev, raising his (print: $Mev's weapon) in salute that becomes a ready stance. ] [[Break down the door->BreakIntoBossRoomActual]]

The mage falls back against the wall, skewered by your blade. Black magic flits from his arms like a snake into the summer grass. He sags. His arms fall limp, and the last vestige of magic leaves him as his eyes stare at yours with some last message. His mouth moves, but no words come out. As you pull your $myweapon back, you cock your head at the sudden lack of sound. No clang of metal. No cries of the injured or hisses of the summoned. In the corner, the Duke of Zterre watches you unmoving. His eyes lock yours, a question high in their brown surface. [[Kill him->TryKillDuke]] [[Talk->PostFinalFightOnlyDuke]]

The mage crumples to the floor, his head falling with a separate thump. Blood rushes to fill the gap, sinking into the polished wood of the floor. Black magic flees from his arms like snakes into the summer grass. The eyes on his head are still open. Behind you comes a sudden silence. No clang of metal, no cries of the injured or threatened. No thump of golems' feet or hiss of red-eyed skeletons. The Duke of Zterre stands silent in the corner. His eyes lock yours, a question high on their surface. He is unarmed. [[Kill him->TryKillDuke]] [[Talk->PostFinalFightOnlyDuke]]

Your (print: $myweapondm's type) handle connects with the mage's temple and sends him crumpling to the floor. Blood runs from his head and down his darkened jacket. Black magic flees from his arms like snakes into the summer grass. You watch his chest until you're certain he's still breathing. Behind you comes a sudden silence. No clang of metal, no cries of the injured or threatened. No thump of golems' feet or hiss of red-eyed skeletons. You let out a breath. [[Breathe->DukeKillsMage]]

"Ambassador," the duke "The duke will not meet you," the stewar "He won't meet you." The steward

They stumble to a stop behind you, breaking the silence and the lock of the duke's gaze in the same moment. His expression flattens into something deeply uncaring. The smell of fresh blood is suddenly loud in your nearly-empty stomach. (if: $Countess's following is true and $Countess's weapon is not "none")[[[Breathe->CountessKillsDuke]]](else:)[[[Breathe->PostFinalFight2]]]  (set: $dukestory to false) (set: $countessstory to false)

You let the duke march ahead of you as you leave the tiny viewing room. There is a ring of bones and clay and fur, about five paces diameter and centered on the door - the remains of the summons that rushed the door when you went inside. You stumble in recognition. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie gives you a smirk. "Thought we were pushovers, did you?" ] (if: $Mev's following)["We made it," says Mev with satisfaction that can't quite hide his own amazement. ] (if: $Mystics's following)["Creatures of smoke and ash," says Tarissa, as though that explains it. ] (if: $Havek's following)[Havek says nothing. ] [["I'm impressed."->POWD2]]

The countess rises from a group of walking wounded. Her eyes sit long on the bound and gagged duke; what thoughts stir in her mind, you could not say. When she turns to you, her words are short. "He can't come back." It isn't a question, or even an option. [["He won't."->CountessPost3]] [["He'll get a fair trial."->CountessPost2]]

"Good." The countess says firmly. She lets out a breath, looks - as though giving herself permission at last - around the room. "Kelek's blood," she mutters. "He's left a fine mess of it, hasn't he." She isn't really looking for an answer. You thank her for her time. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

The countess ignores this. "We will not take him," she says. "Tell her if he returns, we will put him to death." The duke's eyes glow bright with hatred. You both ignore him. The countess's arms are dark with dried blood; it's in her hair and on her dress up to knee-height. [["I'll tell her."->CountessPost3]]

"Don't be." Mackenzie says. You pick your way forward. The wreckage of the room - what were once banqueted tables and rich wines - intermingles with spattered islands of carnage and death. Partiers lie singly or in small groups, bloody and with fear and pain written in their open eyes. There are very few wounded. Someone pushes open the doors, and a flood of warm evening air roils into the grisly room. Soldiers charge into the room in phlanx, swords glinting and clean, armored heads looking for all the world like shiny pilbugs. They stumble over each other in a half a dozen steps. Their captain strides from the front row directly to your little group. (if: $Havek's following)[His eyes fix on Havek, drawing him immediately off for some discussion. There words are terse and hard. It's not clear who's giving who orders. [[Look around->LookAroundPostRoom]]](else:)[His eyes fix on you. "Ambassador," he says formally. "You killed the mage." [["...Yes"->YepKilledMage]]]

"We got into his room," Mev says idly, as you serve yourself soup from a giant pot. You find yourself behind him in a short line, queued up to pull soup from a pot wider than Mev's shoulders. The room is small, filled mostly by a giant wooden table meant for a committee. A dozen other survivors stand behind you, looking mostly punch-drunk. More sit at the table, eating and drinking and trading their experiences; the noise is enough you have to lean close to hear Mev at all. The smell of heavy food tugs like a thread at your attention, making this even harder. [["And?"->MC2]]

"Ambassador," Mackenzie greets you on the rooftop. She's changed. Her top is sleeveless, wrapped around her neck and flattering in the extreme. There is a humor in her eyes that you never really noticed before. She leans beside you on the sandstone wall of the the upper keep; the dusty plain begins a hundred feet below her wrists. "What will you do?" Mackenzie asks, and her eyes hold a question. [["Sleep."]] [["What do you mean?"->WhatMeanDukeDead]]   (set: $toldescapeplan to false)

A half an hour has passed, and you take a last look over your shoulder. The fortress of Zterre glows sandstone yellow with just the barest hint of pink. Its square towers cut rigidly into the cloudless sky, and in the northwest corner, the flag of the Duke no longer flies. Its pole stands bare and poignant. You bow your head and watch the Duke's cart role on the dusty path before you. //The end// [[See stats->SeeStats]]

Your find yourself packing in the cell they called your room; your worldly belongings, somehow small enough to fit in a single walking-pack. Your cot looks narrow and bare without your trusted blanket. The stony walls are stifling, and you think more than once that you might never be able to sleep in stone again. A woman knocks on your open door. Her hair is long and gold, and her smile is the kind of warm and loving that your life with Zagreb had killed entirely. Her vest is a flattering white, and her pants are long and loose in the seductive Zaelish style. "Found you," she says, and it takes you some long seconds to recognize her: the pretty partier you defended, for half a moment half a lifetime ago. The one who told you to find her, later. "Can I come in?" [["I'm sorry, I'm not interested."->SkipPostPretty]] [["Please do."->SleepPostPretty]]

She smiles, though it's a sad smile. "I understand." "It's not you," you insist like a teenager. She giggles, and you find yourself giggling too. "I'm sorry," she says finally. "I shouldn't laugh. I know you lost a lot today. We all did." She waits for a moment, but you find you have nothing left to say. "Be well," she wishes you; and then she leaves your doorway and is gone. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

(if: $Mackenzie's leavingwith)["Too easy," Mackenzie says, as you make your way around an impatiently-stamping camel. It's hock is level with your shoulder. A pile of what it ate for breakfast adds a scent your empty stomach didn't need. "It's almost like he isn't even watching." ](else:)[You walk among the camels and carts, smelling the coarse hair and warm grease, feeling the dust and grit and dry taste of the air, presaging the journey ahead.] One cart is square and covered with a wooden roof. "For the body," says the scrawny ferrier as she hooks a pair of camels to the cart. "The big honcho guy from $mycolor $kingdom. They're sending him back //pickled//." The thought of it makes you squeamish. "All up!" Calls the caravan-master, in a high, clear voice that's good for the desert. You know from experience you'll be hearing too much of that voice. You nudge your camel - named 'Sabetha' - and she lurches to her feet. You wrap your desert turban high across your nose. Your allies stand inside the gate. (if: $Mackenzie's following and not $Mackenzie's leavingwith)[Mackenzie waves, something glittering in her fingers.] (if: $Mev's following)[Mev gives a stiff and rather serious bow, at least for him.] (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa closes her eyes and touches her throat in benediction, raising her fingers in an L.] (if: $Countess's saved)[Even the countess is there, trying to look busy, but failing utterly with nothing to do but watch a dozen camels in the dust. She catches your eye and nods slightly, regally. It strikes you that she'll likely be the next duchess.] (if: $Duke's ending is "killed")[[[Blink->EndingPassageDukeKilled]]](else:)[[[Blink->EndingPassageDukeInPower]]]

She sits on the edge of your cot. Her hand rests easily on your knee. You talk of other things for half a minute before she's pulling your neck into hers. Her breath is warm and her lips taste of honey and fear-sweat not fully washed away.  [[Blink->PostSleepPostPretty]]

You wake early and warm, comfortable on a soft, spongy surface. A warm, soft figure lies hard in the crook of your arm. Her hair is as scattered as a spider makes its web, and her breath is warm and even on your chest. Sharp morning light pokes through a narrow window and paints a narrow rectangle on the wooden wall. Memories rise as the sun slowly climbs. A walk on the walls, and dinner in the northwest tower, looking out over the darknening plain. Returning together, not to your narrow cot but to her own rooms in the southwest tower. You leave her room late, the morning sun high in the sky. The caravan is near ready and itching with energy for the long desert. You think of her name and how you gave her your address in the $mycolor $kingdom. [[Join the caravan->ToCaravan]]

(set: $posts to (a: "StartPostMevConspiracy", "StartPostCountess", "StartPostPretty")) (set: $postCounter to 0) (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeLate") ]] [[TestHandle->StartPostCountessOld]]

You wake late, the next morning after a fitful night's sleep. You make your way down to the kitchens and build a rich breakfast of bread and meat and fruit. The kitchen staff make you a pack to add to the top of your saddlebag - good food for the desert, pulled from the duke's own stores. You're not sure who to credit for that, and you decided not to ask. You hike your worldly belongings up onto your back and make your way down to the stables. [[Join the caravan->ToCaravan]]

"In on //what//, exactly," Mackenzie says in a very dangerous voice. You realize she still has her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) in one hand, and her eyes are sharp and hard. "These three in one room, protected, out of all of us," Mev snorts. "That one doesn't take a genius." "I have an explanation," the duke inserts. (if: $Countess's following)[ "So do I," the countess replies. [["The Duke's first"->DukeStory]] [["Countess?"->CountessStory]]](else:)[[["Let's hear it."->DukeStory]]]

"Explain," Mackenzie says in flat disbelief. "I can explain," the duke inserts himself, stepping finally from his place against the wall. His eyes land lightly on your allies as he talks. His words fall smoothly into the silence. "Zyxos first came to my court three months ago. He brought with him a store of //ignaz//, and promised he could protect my soldiers with it. There was trouble with the Xervai; whole garrisons were disappearing, and the lives of my people of course are paramount. I gave him permission. Funding. He came to my court, and for three months gave me updates. Then one day two weeks ago, he came with a new proposal. Summoned beings, he said, could become my new soldiers. Replace them entirely, if I wanted. He suggested a demonstration. I knew from my own knowledge that summoning was dangerous. I told him to stop - in fact, I ordered him banished from the court. But Zyxos in that very room called down a summoning, a terrific creature - and he pointed at me and said, if that man speaks a word out of turn, then you kill him. And he snapped his finger, and the creature disappeared - but I knew he could call it back again, just as easily as the first time. So I became a prisoner in my own court. Zyxos quickly moved past summoning: it was he who ordered traders and travellers imprisoned, and he who ordered the ridiculous tariffs on all imports; I was but the enforcer, the signature behind the pen. He was quite a fearful man. I am glad you stopped him." This last to you, with a small bow that would probably seem sincere, to someone who wasn't a professional diplomat like you. "$myname?" Mackenzie asks. [["He's innocent."->CoverForDukeDoubleDown]] [["Horseshit."->DontCoverDuke]]

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"//Thank// you." Mackenzie's smile is that of a lioness, come upon a clean kill. She shakes her head, clearing her eyes. Her gaze takes in the duke. "Here's what I think," she condemns him. "I think Zyxos worked for you, start to finish. You ordered him to do exactly...//this//...and if the ambassador hadn't bolted in here, you'd have let those summons eat every single person." Her voice is confident and sure. She rests her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon)'s tip on the floor. "Did I?" The duke asks softly. "It's so old it's almost stupid," Mackenzie continues, turning to you and the rest of your allies. "Throw a big party for your enemies, then lock them in a room and kill them. He's not the first to come up with the idea. Not even close to first." The duke says nothing. "Tell me I'm wrong," Mackenzie challenges him. "You're wrong," the duke says, with so little sincerity you blink in surprise. (if: $Countess's following and not $Countess's toldstory)["He's lying," the countess says quietly, but with steel in her voice. [["Countess?"->CountessStory]]](else:)[[["Mackenzie's right. The duke is guilty."->DukeGuilty]] [["He's innocent."->SaveDuke]]]

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Mackenzie smiles a smile so wicked she might have grown fangs. Tarissa lets out a small "//hmm//" of satisfaction. Mev chortles like a soloist, bubbling in his throat. "You're going to regret this," says the duke, as you move forward to tie his hands. Mackenzie, Tarissa, Mev all keep their eyes and weapons on him while you tie a series of careful knots. The duke doesn't struggle, though his eyes flip between glaring and besearching with embarassing lack of fervor. You shake your head. The knots are tight. [["Tell that to the queen."

"Huh," Mackenzie says. "Funny that, seeing as he was in the room the whole time." "I can explain," the duke inserts. "This should be good," Mackenzie replies. [["Let's hear him out."->DukeStory]]

You watch Zagreb's eyes tighten. He tries to hide it, but you know him so well; and his hands come up, entreating, right on cue. "$myname. I know this looks - well, it's exactly what it looks like. A coup, in the name of Duke Edze Narzaramm. We're on the right side. The side of the $mycolor $kingdom." Your breath comes heavy in your throat; adrenaline crashes like stormy waves as you try to process his words. [["You're in on this???->RevealZagreb]] [["So...we're in on this?"->RevealZagreb]]

You gesture, with your weaponless hand, to the chaos outside. You can see it clearly on your left: through some trick of glass and mirrors, you can see the banquet room, a vision as though looking through a dirty window. Skeletons, nightwolves, and golems stalk the remaining partiers across the mess of tables, bodies and blood. Zagreb actually rolls his eyes. "Did you think I could have missed it?" He asks, and the old Zagreb smile is back - confident, all-knowing, and blind. "When I came here last it was a morass. A duke hemmed in by his own councillors; condemned at every turn. Our merchants were only a hoof on the camel." Zagreb lowers his hands. He holds your eyes with a sympathetic gaze. "Our citizens rot in terrible prisons. The Duke doesn't want them there - after tonight, they'll all be released." Zagreb clears his throat. "How can you be against that?" You feel the weight of your $myweapon. The room is hot, stuffy, even, and the walls mute the sounds of the carnage beyond. Sweat breaks on your brow, and runs cold down from under your arms. [["You might be right."->ConcedeALittle]] [["This isn't the way."->PushBack]]

You're disturbed by how much the Zagreb relaxes at your words; disturbed, because you hadn't realized quite how keyed up they were. A light you didn't know was there disappears from the mage's left hand. The room is suddenly a lot less warm. "We all get what we want," Zagreb says, in his aren't-we-all-reasonable-friends voice that seems totally out of place in this small room. "The duke gets his problem councellors dealt with. We get our merchants out of prison, and the embargo lifted." Zagreb narrows his gaze. "This is what's best for the $mycolor $kingdom," he asserts. [["I'm with you."->Concede2]] [["The queen would never agree to this."->PushBack]]

"Don't be naive," Zagreb admonishes, and his tone is friendly, almost guiding. "We serve our queen as her agents. That means choosing what is best for the $mycolor $kingdom. Diplomacy is more than traded words and promises - sometimes //action// is needed." A terrible clang rings loudly through the doorway behind you, followed by a grunt of pain and the //shick// of blade on flesh. Your heart thumps in your throat as you don't dare turn around; Zagreb watches your face and his expression softens even farther. "We can save them," he says, with a quick confirming glance to the still-silent duke. "They're not important - none of them were targets tonight." You can feel your hands begin to shake. [["So get rid of the monsters."->MageBetrays]] (if: $portalopen is true)[[["So close the portal."->MageBetrays]]]

"Shit." Zagreb curses, and you never hear him curse. "Wait. This doesn't have to - " But the mage shoves past him with a snarl, black magic pooled in his hand like a nightwolf's very claws - you've time to raise your (print: $myweapondm's type) and not much else - [[Blink!->ChargeAll3]] A wall of black magic sweeps over you like a superheated pool, blocking out everything - every light, every motion, every sensation except heat. Something sizzles just in front of your nose. You blink your eyes open, and a spot of pure sunlight narrows your vision down to a single point. The point expands, like an iris opening back into the world. Black magic drops wriggling to the floor like a hundred flash-fried worms. Yellow light clings to your fingers and trails from the tip of your $myweapon. You step back into the world, untouched, but warm as though bathing in the summer sun. You take a swift step forward. The mage drops a curse as foul as any you've ever heard. He shoves his fists down like a child throwing a tantrum, and black tendrils grow fat from his fingers like a dozen terrible claws. You can't let him cast another spell. [[Punch him->FightFinalMageOptB]] [[Backhand him->FightFinalMageOptB]] T

Zagreb's face turns to something hard and calculating; a side you've seen before, but never so cynically. You watch his eyes flip between you and the doorway behind you, your hidden allies waiting to rush to your defense... And behind him, behind the mage's vision, the Duke of Zterre catches your eye and nods just once. You shift your stance and can't quite hide a smirk. Zagreb takes one more second to decide you actually mean what you say. "Fine." He snaps, and turns on his heel - And a black ball of mage fire billows into his chin; billows fat around his neck and over his head, and before you can blink it sinks like smoke into his skull, and a pulse passes through the air of the little room and through the hollows of your chest, like a drumbeat on a drum set too low for hearing. And as Zagreb crumbles lifeless to the floor, the mage strides forward in three power-hungry steps. "Be fucked," he snarles in your face. And he casts black magic with his palm right in front of your eyes. [[Blink->FightFinalMage1]]

"Release the summons," you insist. Themage - zyxos [["The mage has to die."->DealToTurnMage]]

before he can finish another spell, and the words are lost in a harsh cough and a gasp and quick and muttered very nasty curse indeed. You lunge forward before he can recover - swinging your (print: $myweapondm's type) to cut him down - but he scrabbles out of the way, on all fours for a moment in his haste. A golem roars from what sounds like just outside the doorway. Metal clangs on metal, somewhere just out of sight. You're suddenly aware that you have no time at all to spare. You lunge forward - the mage is pulling black magic into his fingers once again, it coils around his wrist like a snake, great pulsing ropes of it, and with a last effort you: [[Stab him through the heart->StabMage]] [[Lop off his head->LopMage]] [[Strike him with the butt of your (print: $myweapondm's type)->KnockoutMage]]

The world shines dark with unholy light for a long and interminable breath. It takes you that long to discover that you aren't dead. (if: $Mystics's following)[To hear Tarissa's emphatic grunt and muttered, gutteral curse; to ](else:)[To ]see the rush of gold that shines bright against the darkness, until the darkness all at once disperses into smoke, leaving the mage standing there in front of you with a rather startled expression on his face. "Wha-" he begins, but you [[Punch him->FightFinalMage2]] [[Backhand him->FightFinalMage2]]

"For fuck's sake," the courtier spits, shaking the bone fragments out of his clothes. "The least you could do is not spray me with his detritus." He tugs at the rims of his stiff, deep-cut collar; his suit is formal, rigid in the collar and shoulders, and textured like the green scales of a fish. The skeleton's bones lie scattered like the crater of a skyfall. [["You're welcome."->SAC2]] [["It was nothing."->SAC2]]

Mackenzie crushed the skeletons skull with a and Mackenzie crushed its skull with a two handed swing from her hips; her mace caught its jaw from below, and the skull snapped off its head like a rock kicked off a cliff. And Tarissa blows it away with a spell and a flash of brilliant yellow light. Scorched bones bounce and scatter as she favors you with an unsettlling look of expectation. And Tarissa blasts fire with her fingers two paces from its chest. The nightwolf Tarissa send Tarissa blows its spine out of its ribcage with a shot of sun-bright light. The skeleton collapses from its top down, the glowing light leaving its eyes. and Tarissa shot the skeleton through the pelvis, shattering its hips and knocking the bones of both legs off separately in different directions. and Mev stabbed the nightwolf hard from the back. can help with skeletons. can't help with nightwolves. Mackenzie and Mev distract the golem, (set: $smallpsgs to (a: "DefendPretty", "DefendAngry", "DefendFlutist", "DefendPeevish", "DefendRandom" (set: $smallpsgs1 to (a: "DefendPretty", "DefendAngry", "DefendFlutist")) (set: $smallpsgs2 to (a: "DefendPeevish", "DefendRandom", "None")) r1: mackenzie r2: a) from psgs1, b) from psgs2, countess r3: coutness, a) from psgs1, b from psgs 2, mystics, havek r4: mystics, a) from psgs1, b form psgs 2, kickportal (kickportal, if not so far) actually, just do do r1, r2, r3, r4, r5 as separate lookaround psgs, with semi-random inside. removes duplicates, allows better progression r3:

"//Thank// you," the courtier snaps, and scarcasm drips from his words. "Now excuse me. I need to find some //real// soldiers to keep me out of this //shit//." [["Try over there." (Point to a nearby golem)->SAC3Golem]] [["Try over there." (Point to a group of harried soldiers)->SAC3Saved]] [["Good luck."->SAC3Abandon]]

"Oh yes, thank you." He barely looks in that direction before he hurries off. The golem looks up hopefully. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

"Oh yes, //thank// you." He barely looks in that direction before he hurries off. One soldier sees him coming. The look on her face is a mixture of resignation, worry, and annoyance. She gives you a nod of understanding as the courtier safely reaches her group. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $Angry's saved to true) (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

"Yes, yes, thank you. Now go away." He makes a shooing motion at your shoulder with both hands. "You're attracting the big ones over here." With a (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"roll of your eyes","shrug","angry grimace"), you allow yourself to be shooed. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

The man barely sees you coming; he's too busy dodging around a single wooden table, keeping a skeleton carefully on the other side. The skeleton seems unable to decide on a direction. Each it takes a step, the man moves in opposite, and the lights in the skeleton's red eyes glare viciously while the creature itself stands still. You fling yourself on the skeleton from the back. For once, one doesn't react in time - your $myweapon slams neatly into (dropdown: 2bind $monsterloc,"the crest of its skull","the small of its back","the arch of its spine") and clear through the other side. A spray of bone and shards spring out and over the table and the courtier. The skeleton falls like a cut tree. [[Breathe->SavedAngryCourtier]] (set: $Angry's tried to true) (set: $turns to it + 1)

You make your way discreetly towards the countess's group. Her back is to you, giving you a fine view of her mostly-backless dress and her elegantly-tucked-up hair. The other counselors - three others, in a small circle of gossip and position, are less finely dressed, but only by a whisker. The gold and silver bangles and bracers and hair pieces make them look a little like statues. [[Approach->MeetNadiniaHelper]] (set: $Countess's talked to true)

"//Something// had to get your attention," says the first, the man named Hagrev. His hair is buzzed short, his nose is narrow and long, and his lips twist down in a sneer. "Damned $mycolor sellers on every corner. Cutting out our native-born merchants. Flooding our market." You manage a glance at the Countess. Her posture is bored, her eyes not meeting yours. She sways slightly, as though feeling only an echo of the music. It's the woman beside her who says, "the tariff's aren't changing. You'd best give up." [["What about the prisoners?->AskPrisoners2]]

"//Something// had to get your attention," says the first, the man named Hagrev. His hair is buzzed short, his nose is narrow and long, and his lips twist down in a sneer. "Damned $mycolor sellers on every corner. Cutting out our native-born merchants. Flooding our market." You manage a glance at the Countess. Her posture is bored, her eyes not meeting yours. She sways slightly, as though feeling only an echo of the music. It's the woman beside her who says, "The tariff's ain't changing. You'd best give it up." [["What about the prisoners?->AskPrisoners2]]

"Insurance," says Hagrev. "A message, for any that try to get past us." "What Hagrev means," says the second courtier, "is that they broke the law. They will be tried in our system, when the courts are open again." Hagrev snorts. "Never happen." The courtier flicks him a glance, and your practiced diplomat catches the warning beneath the layers of paint. "The courts //will// open," the courtier says firmly, turning to you. [["What happened?"->AskCourtsOpen]]

You sense the group change. Hagrev looks suddenly angry(er). The courtier grows tense as a caught cat. The blunt woman shines with something like carefully-shielded satisfaction. And the countess shifts her posture so slightly you'd have to be an expert to catch it. The silence stretches. Hagrev starts to say something, and the second courtier cuts him off with a sharp grunt. [["And you blame the $mycolor $kingdom?"->ProvokeAndMeetNadinia]] [["Alright. What about getting the tariffs down?"->RedirectToTariffs]]

"Careful, ambassador," says the second courtier with honeyed menace. "It's not a good night for throwing bricks." He glances significantly at the woman with the blunt demeanor. She snorts. "Don't give me that look, Halcom, honey," she says easily. Her smirk is bland and dangerous. "I'm just here to enjoy the party." This is so patently unbelievable that you have trouble keeping your mouth closed. Hagrev has no such skill, and he says bluntly, "Kelek's breath, you're here to protect //her//," with a naked and venomous glance at the countess. Like a clockwork piece the blunt woman turns to him and says, "And if I am?" "Then I'd be very careful - " You almost miss it. The countess raises her eyes, and they meet yours at last. Her chin tilts just a single finger's breath. [[Leave the group->MeetNadiniaReal]]

"Not gonna happen," says Hagrev with the quick certitude of a man with no control whatsoever. A partier passes behind him, her eyes glancing at the courtier's backs as she gives your little group an exceptionally //wide// berth. You feel a moment's sympathy as the second courtier says, "The Duke wants to diversify," he says easily, spreading his hands with palsm up as though sharing the greatest gift of economics. "He can't do that with $mycolor merchants covering everything. They need to stay out." [["What about your merchants?"->RTT2]]

"In $mycolor territory, you mean?" the second courtier asks. He shrugs one eloquent shoulder. "There aren't very many. And your queen won't imprison them, either. At worst she'll kick them out." He shrugs again. "So what?" [["Trade helps us both."->RTT3]]

"No, it doesn't." says the second courtier. "Look. I know I'm not going to convince you. But the tariffs are here to stay, alright?" He holds your eyes, and a quick glance around the little group shows there's not much more to be said. [[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]

Let's see, the central forks. Make random pairs? Pull 2 randoms from list (prevent I kind of like a bit better the turns. Get the line-levelling (so you don't get extra lines in there) Add some variation to the fight messages The fight drags long. You skip and dance around the skeleton, your weapons ringing off each other; parry for strike, block for thrust, and your arms shake with each impact. Sweat builds in your hands as you feel precious moments passing. A partier falls in the corner of your vision, a quick scream quenched into silence. Finally you find an opening. The skeleton repeats itself, and as it readies a mighty swing you: Shatter its bony skull! Stab it through the heart! Blast it into pieces! (set: $turns to $turns + 2)  Slice its head clear off its neck! Club its head clear off its bony vertebrand shatter the skeleton's sword arm in one blowa lucky strike shatters the skeleton's sword-arm, and as it steps back in dismay you finish it with a rapid  - You skip and dance around the skeleton, your weapons ringing off each other; parry for strike, block for thrust, and your arms shake with each impact. Sweat builds in your hands as you feel precious moments passing. A partier falls in the corner of your vision, a quick scream quenched into silence. Finally the skeleton makes a mistake: it repeats a move you've already seen, and as it winds up a mighty blow you: (2 turns) - You throw yourself against the skeleton, your strikes quick and flurried, catching the skeleton on its side before it has time to turn. Before it can do more than hiss you land a lucky strike on the small of its back. Bones fly out like ice from a spilled drink. And the skeleton falls to the floor. (1 turn)

You land a heavy blow (either: "squarely on its skull", "where it's ribcage meets its neck") (either:"- and the skeleton simply explodes. Long limb-bones scatter in a clattering pile. The skull bounces and rolls loose among the tables.", "- and the skeleton shatters into a hundred separate bones!") (if: $monstercount > 1)[(set: $monstercount to $monstercount - 1)(set: $fightturns to 0)You've no time to think: it's companion darts into the gap- (link-goto: "Fight!", $fightloop)](else:)[You steady your $myweapon, sucking in great gasps of air. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)] (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)

With a mighty swing, you slam your $myweapon squarely onto the monster's skull. (if: $monster is "skeleton")[The blow shatters the ancient bone into a thousand tiny shards. Tiny flecks of them flick off your face, and you blink in the sudden puff of dust. You rub your eyes with one sweaty hand. The skeleton is nothing but bones.](else-if: $monster is "golem")[Your $myweapon barely penetrates. The golem lets out a roar that echoes through your own lungs in response. And then it takes a single step - and falls motionless to the floor.](else-if: $monster is "nightwolf")[The nightwolf falls in an instant, and the sound of your weapon on fur and skin and bone is a memory you'll keep to the end of your days.] (if: $monstercount > 1)[(set: $monstercount to $monstercount - 1)(set: $fightturns to 0)But its companion darts into the gap- (link-goto: "Fight!", $fightloop)](else:)[You let your $myweapon hang loose, rubbing the sweat from your eyes once more. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)] (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)

With a lunge you shove your $myweapon deep into the $monster's heart. (if: $monster is "golem")[Grey skin seems to suck in your blade as you push and push and push. You stare up in wonder and sudden shock at the great mass of the golem looming over you. You needn't have worried. With a shock that pulses the air, the golem dies on your $myweapon.](else-if: $monster is "nightwolf")[The nightwolf dies in an instant, growl dying suddenly on its lips. You feel a moment of empathy as the doglike creature falls off your blade.](else-if: $monster is "skeleton")[Your blade skips right through its ribs and punches out through its back. A single bone the size of your fist skips out from its back and clatters on the floor. And the skeleton falls apart in pieces, long arms and shoulders and $monsterweapon falling in an untidy pile at your feet. You feel a moment's confusion that so many bones could come from one body.] (if: $monstercount > 1)[(set: $monstercount to $monstercount - 1)(set: $fightturns to 0)But then its companion darts into the gap- (link-goto: "Fight!", $fightloop)](else:)[You yank your $myweapon free, spinning to face any new threats. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)] (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)

A quick feint is all it takes. Your $myweapon (if: $myweapon is "knives")[slice](else:)[slices] cleanly through the $monster's exposed neck and out the other side. (if: $monster is "golem")[The golem lurches forward, tumbling to the floor like a pile of loose and unconnected rocks.](else-if: $monster is "skeleton")[The skeleton collapses in a breath, bones clacking over each other.](else-if: $monster is "nightwolf")[The nightwolf collapses in swathe of black-curry blood. A glimmer of it splatters on your (if: $myclothes is "frankly provocative")[bare ]shoulder.] (if: $monstercount > 1)[(set: $monstercount to $monstercount - 1)(set: $fightturns to 0)It's companion darts into the gap- (link-goto: "Fight!", $fightloop)](else:)[You yank your $myweapon free, spinning to face any new threats. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)] (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)

(if: $monster is "skeleton")[The $monster shatters in a flurry of bones and dust!](else-if: $monster is "golem")[The golem seems to shudder. A great pulse of sound ripples out from somewhere deep in its chest, like the world's largest drum struck just once. The red light falls from its eyes, and it falls like a rockfall to the floor.](else-if: $monster is "nightwolf")[The nightwolf snarls in your face. Dark blood soaks onto your buried $myweapon. For a moment you're suddenly close to its jaws. And then the creature falls.] (if: $monstercount > 1)[(set: $monstercount to $monstercount - 1)(set: $fightturns to 0)It's companion darts into the gap- (link-goto: "Fight!", $fightloop)](else:)[You yank your $myweapon free, spinning to face any new threats. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)] (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)

"Protection?" "You know what mages do, right?" Mackenzie asks. "You've never fought a mage before?" Mackenzie asks, half surprised, half serious. [["Of course I have."->HaveMage "Then you know," Mackenzie concludes. "I've only seen one piece of magic tonight that could do it." She holds your eyes, and doesn't wait for you to ask. "The mystics," she says. //Shit//, you think (because the myst [["Nope"->ExplainHowKillMagePortal]] "Right," Mackenzie says, stepping closer as a skeleton clatters to pieces nearby; the soldier who killed it twirls her mace in satisfaction. "You need magical protection. ages have magic," Mackenzie explains. "You need magical protection "Ambassador." The mystic bows low, even as he stepped in front of you and squarely blocks your path. His head is shaved, and what hair remains is grey - but his face has the lines of a much younger man. "If I might have a moment of your time." [["Of course." The mystic bows again. He wears a simple robe of grey, with a thick belt of brilliant red and gold and purple. You notice a loop of leather around his neck, suspending something hidden under his robe.

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You make your way to the spot. Three grey-robed mystics lie dead where they fell. Blood blots the wooden floor like great dregs of terrible tea, though their robes hide the worst of their injuries, it's clear to you what happened. The bones of several skeletons lie scattered in a circle around them. Many of them are charred black. Mackenzie clears her throat impatiently. Her eyes are glittering, but her voice is rough. "Take a crystal," she commands. "Any of them." (if: $Mystics's talked is true)[[[Take Amram's crystal->AmramDeadCrystal]] [[Take another crystal->TarissaDeadCrystal]]](else:)[[[Take a mystic's crystal->TarissaDeadCrystal]]]

Amram's dead eyes stare up at you. He lies on his back, his head at an odd angle. A bloody wound where his neck meets his shoulder makes no secret of what killed him. You crouch, and with (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"shaking","steady","hesitant") fingers pull the leather strap away from his neck. The strap holds a crystal - dull white, seven-faceted, and sharpened to a point on the bottom. A simple frame of bronze caps the crystal and provides a loop for the leather strap. (if: $myweapondm's type is "knive" or $myweapondm's type is "sword")[[[Cut the strap.->CutStrapDeadCrystal]]] [[Lift his head.->LiftHeadDeadCrystal]]

You crouch next to the nearest mystic. Her dead eyes are open, dark and staring upward. Her mouth is closed in grim pain. A bloody wound where her neck meets her shoulder makes no secret of what killed her. You crouch, and with (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"shaking","steady","hesitant") fingers pull the leather strap away from her neck. The strap holds a crystal - dull white, seven-faceted, and sharpened to a point on the bottom. A simple frame of bronze caps the crystal and provides a loop for the leather strap. (if: $myweapondm's type is "knife" or $myweapondm's type is "sword")[[[Cut the strap.->CutStrapDeadCrystal]]] [[Lift her head.->LiftTarissaHeadDeadCrystal]]

Using your $myweapon, you carefully cut the strap that holds the crystal. You reach out carefully and lift the crystal up in your fingers. It's lighter than it looks, and warm to the touch, like a stone left in the embers of a fire. "That's it," Mackenzie says from behind you. "That's what we need. Now for the portal." She rocks on her feet slightly, swinging her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) slightly. Her white blouse stretches across her chest. "Let's go," she prods you. [[Head for the portal->ChargePortal]] [["There are others to save."->HesitatePortalSaveOthers]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

Amram's skin is still warm. His neck is unnaturally, terribly limp. His bristly hair is rough in your hand as you lift his head and pull the crystal's strap over his nose. You let his head fall (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"gently","harshly"), and lift the crystal by its strap. It's lighter than it looks. "That's it," Mackenzie says from behind you. "That's what we need. Now for the portal." She rocks on her feet slightly, swinging her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) slightly. Her white blouse stretches across her chest. "Let's go," she prods you. [[Head for the portal->ChargePortal]] [["There are others to save."->HesitatePortalSaveOthers]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

You gather your strength as you stand. The portal glows purple, halfway across the room. Your $myweapon rests heavily in your fingers. As you watch, another bony skeleton steps through the glimmering surface. It swivels its skull on its neck, like a soldier readying for battle. A bald man in simple clothes seems to talk to it for a moment - the mage. Your blood runs cold as you watch green fire glow from his fingers. "The crystal will protect you," Mackenzie says behind you. [["Are you sure?"->DoubleCheckPortalCrystal]] [[Charge the portal!->AttackPortalSuccessCrystal]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

"Look around," Mackenzie snaps. "Who's left to save?" She continues before you can look. "Best thing we can do is close the portal. Using //that.//" She points to the crystal, still pinched in your fingers. [["Alright, let's go."->ChargePortal]] [["No. We're saving others first."->KeepWithCrystal]]

"For the love of - " Mackenzie hisses, but she rises to follow you as you look around the room. [[Look around ->LookAround]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

The mystic's pale skin is still warm. Her neck is unnaturally, terribly limp. Her hair falls everywhere around your hand as you lift her head and tug the crystal's strap over her face. It takes several more tugs to loose it from her hair. Setting her head back (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"gently","harshly", "solemly"), you lift the crystal by its strap. It's lighter than it looks. (if: $Countess's following is true)["Hold it close to your skin," the Countess commands quietly. "The magic will protect you well enough." "It didn't protect //them//," Mackenzie points out. "It was not magic which killed them," the Countess replies. "Some talisman." "There is little time," the Countess presses you, eyeing the crystal in your fingers. [["Let's get the duke."->PreDukeDoorCountess]] [["There are others to save."->HesitatePortalSaveOthers]]](else-if: $Havek's following is true)["That's it," Havek confirms. "It should still have some power in it. Enough, maybe." (if: $Mackenzie's following is true)["Aren't you a mood-killer," Mackenzie adds. "Why lie." Havek replies. To you, he adds: ](else:)[He gives you a deliberate look. ]"Our odds are the best now that they will ever be." [["Let's go."->PreDukeDoorHavek]]](else:)["That's it," Mackenzie says from behind you. "That's what we need. Now for the portal." She rocks on her feet slightly, swinging her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) slightly. Her white blouse stretches across her chest. "Let's go," she prods you. [[Head for the portal->ChargePortal]] [["There are others to save."->HesitatePortalSaveOthers]]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

Without a further thought you charge. The skeleton patters far behind. Mackenzie's heavy footsteps fall behind you. You run a straight line, past golems and nightwolves and skeletons and terrified partiers, and in the last dozen steps the bald mage turns and sees you coming. He pivots instantly, his expression fierce, his eyebrows drawn in a mask of intelligence. His fingers are suddenly aglow. Tendrils of wriggling light flow from the tips of his nails, forming yarnlike balls of magic. There's one in each hand before he casts them. Steps pounding, you're not quite close enough. Your world flashes green - the magic splashes like rainwater against a window, splattering off an invisible shield a stride or so in front of you. The crystal flares hot in your hand - hot like a warm mug of tea. You clutch it with a smirk of grim triumph. You don't stop running. The mage's startled look turns quickly into hate as he pulls his pale arms back to call down another spell- [[Charge!->ChargeCrystalMackenzie]]

"Should." Mackenzie shrugs eloquently. There's a blur of red blood on her shoulder. "What else can we do?" You take a deep breath. A skeleton sees you and lurches your way. "Run." Mackenzie commands. [[Charge the portal!->AttackPortalSuccessCrystal]]

With a cry you launch yourself across the remaining distance. Your steps pound hard on the smooth wooden dance floor and your breath comes hard through your throat; something rips in your clothing as you push yourself to your absolute limit. Green light falls into the mage's right hand - And your $myweapon punches right through the base of his throat and clear out the other side. Your body slams into his and you tumble together on the floor. Something hot sears past your leg as you scramble to your feet. Hot blood sings through the air as you yank your weapon back from the fallen mage's neck. You suck hard on your breath, some animal instinct watching the mage on the floor, ready for him to rise again. But he doesn't. Red blood flows from his neck and spreads like spilled wine on the floor. The clang of metal weapons and the cries of terrified partiers are suddenly far away. "The portal!" Mackenzie gasps, running up behind you. She sinks her hands onto her knees, (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) resting on the floor. It takes her three breaths to get the next words out. "You have to. Break it. With $myweapon." [["How?"->KillPortalMackenzie]]

"Just. Put your $myweapon. Through edge." Mackenzie heaves out. "Should break." You notice the portal beginning to shimmer. Something moves on the other side, a shadow your eyes can't quite see. "Do it!" Mackenzie commands. [[Break the portal->KillPortal2]]

You shove your $myweapon into the portal's rim - just as she says, the boundary seems to waver, as though seen through smoke or a strong haze. A tremble passes through your weapon and up into your wrists. The fuzziness widens. Your $myweapon seems to widen as well. It cracks, and a wrenching smell escapes. A deep-black hole, small enough to be plugged by your finger, appears where your weapon meets the portal. A high-pitched whistle cuts through the battle sounds around you, like steam from a kettle. Your $myweapon twists violently, and then something //snaps//; the tension disappears, and with a great slurp the portal shrinks into itself, into a single point of dusk-bright light. And then that, too, disappears. In the sudden darkness you stare at your too-light weapon. Three-quarters of its length is gone, sheared neatly and with a new edge as clean and sharp as any a blacksmith could shave. You wave it around experimentally. It's little more than a knife. [["What the hell?"->PostPortalKillNoMystic]]

"Amram-" You start. "Die in a fucking fire," Amram curses you. "You're fucking //dead//. And you can forget about my vote for your pathetic //prisoners//. They are all //fucked//." A golem blasts through a table not far away. Amram flinches. He doesn't take his hands down from his eyes. [["Let me help you hide."->HelpAmramHide]] [["Nevermind. Stay here."->AbandonAmram]]

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You turn your gaze to the portal, glowing purple, halfway across the room. As you watch, another bony skeleton steps through the glimmering surface. It swivels its skull on its neck, like a soldier readying for battle. A bald man in simple clothes seems to talk to it for a moment - the mage. Your blood runs cold as you watch green fire glow from his fingers. [["Are you sure?"->DoubleCheckPortalMystics]] [[Charge the portal!->AttackPortalSuccessTarissa]] (set: $havecrystal to true)

"Yes, a moment," (if: not $metamram)[the priest](else:)[Amram] says. He eyes you with the calculation of a merchant. "(if: not $metamram)[I am Amram, servant of the Goddess. ]Perhaps there is something you could do for me." "Is he serious?" Mackenzie asks, rhetorically. "Find a hole and hide. Or blast your way to doing something useful." Amram seems taken aback for a moment, then decides to ignore her. To you, he says, "The duke cannot know of this attack." [["What do you mean?"->MustFindDuke1]]

(if: $metamram)[Amram](else:)[The priest] shakes his head stubbornly. "Malfin lost the goddess's favor long before tonight," he says firmly. "He was making offerings and seeking her forgiveness. But she does not forgive easily." He eyes you, as though weighing for his goddess. "//We// are protected.(if: not $metamram)[ I am her high priest, Amram.]" The mystic behind him catches your eye. You have the feeling she'd catch every eye, every time. Her hair is dark, her skin pale, her eyes the kind of liquid that could melt a soul. Besides Amram, she's the only mystic left standing. Two others lie lifeless on the floor. Amram continues, "Clearly she has seen fit to send a cleanse. I have no doubt that once the unworthy have fallen - " [["Alright, we're going."->SA25]] (if: $seenportal or $needcrystal)[[["I need your help."->NeedHelpFromMystics]]] (set: $metamram to true)

"-will lift up - what?" You've surprised Amram out of his litany, and his eyes, for a moment, show sudden lack of fortitude. He hides it in a moment, but the moment stays with you. "Help? What do you mean, help?" [["There's a mage guarding the portal."->NeedHelpMystics2]]

"A mage. Ah yes. I see." Amram bounces on his feet, forming his fingers into a circle. "Unfortunately, We cannot help -" "I can," says the second mystic, from behind Amram. Her eyes are pools of midnight. Her thoughts are unreadable. "No," commands Amram, "your strength is needed here - " The mystic simply ignores him. With quick and careful steps, she crosses the space between you and Amram, with level chin and a brush of curling hair over her shoulder. She wears a pendant just like Amram's, tucked beneath her robe. Her belt is as wide as your fingers could spread, and cynches high above her waist. Its pattern is a simple weave of forest green and tree-plum purple. "Tarissa!" Amram commands like a petulant child. [[Continue->NeedHelpMystics3]]

"What?" Tarissa asks, her voice soft-edged and smooth. "We are going to die tonight. Better this way, than herded like cattle in a pen." She doesn't look at you. "What better way than this?" "The goddess will protect us!" Amram insists. "The goddess has chosen this ending," Tarissa replies. "We //must// stay here!" Amram exclaims. Tarissa sighs and shakes her head. She tilts her chin in your direction. "You have a plan?"  [["We need to close the portal."->NHM35]] [["We need to find the duke."->NHM35]]

"You will fail," Amram snarls as you turn. "You will fail, and she will not protect you - the goddess calls for us to //save//, Tarissa, you know that..." But Tarissa strides ahead of you, not looking back. Mackenzie shrugs and follows her, expression grim but determined. (if: $Mev's following)[Mev cracks his neck and gives you a glance.](if: $Countess's following)[ The countess eyes Amram with an impatient look and rolls her pale shoulders impatiently.] (if: $Havek's following)[ Havek smiles, though his eyes are flat. "I'll stay with the fool," he tells you. "Get to the duke. His mage must be stopped." [["We will."->HavekNods]]](else:)[[[Follow Tarissa->RemeetPlanNext]]]

"Minutes," Tarissa replies. "Fucking hell," Mackenzie says. "That's good as dead in here." Tarissa doesn't bother to answer. [[Direct Amram to safety->DirectAmramSafety]] [["You're right. Let's go."->AbandonAmram]]

Amram continues to curse you as you guide him - without touching him - into a hiding place in a collapsed wall alcove. "Ready?" Mackenzie asks, sardonic but without heat. Tarissa watches the fighting nearby, tapping a white crystal that hangs over her sternum. [["Absolutely." (Charge Portal!)->ToPortalWithTarissa]] (if: $founddoor is true)[[["To the spyroom!"->PreDukeDoorHavek]]] [["We should see how we can help."->LookAround]]

"And well you should," says Amram sanctimoniously. You shake your head. Mackenzie huffs beside you. As you step away from the alcove, you take a look around. [[Look Around ->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

"He cannot know," Amram repeats, "because otherwise, he would have called in all the guards! And the doors would not be locked." Mackenzie blows a raspberry and visibly starts looking around. "I am correct," Amram insists. "There is a door, here, in this alcove. It is secret. Known only to the protected. And yet it is locked." You eye the alcove behind him. You can just tell that it used to be a high table with a bench on three sides. What it is now is little more than fuel for a fire; at a guess, a golem smashed it. [["Is it usually locked?"->SecretExit1]]

"Never," says Amram firmly. "Who has the key?" Mackenzie asks. "Keys," Amram corrects. "The duke, of course. The captain of the guards. Havek the spymaster. There may be others." Mackenzie gives you a significant glance. You can tell what she's thinking. [["Where is the duke now?"->SecretExit2]] [["Where is Havek?"->WhereHavek]]  (set: $a to false)(set: $b to false)

"//That//", says Amram, "is what you need to find out." He shoves a finger at your sternum, and luckily he's far enough away not to poke you in the chest. Because you honestly think he might have. "I haven't seen him," Mackenzie says. (if: not $a)[[["There are other people to save."->SecretExitOtherPeople]]] (if: not $b)[[["Couldn't you just blast the door open?"->SecretExitCantBlastDoor]]]

"Find the key, and the door will be open for all," Amram says with the wolfish expression of a man who doesn't care. (if: not $b)[[["Couldn't you just blast the door open?"->SecretExitCantBlastDoor]]] [["Alright, I'll look for the key."->AgreeLookKey]] (set: $a to true)

"The door is of stone, as thick as these walls," Amram replies. "The goddess gives no magic that would do such a thing." (if: not $a)[[["There are other people to save."->SecretExitOtherPeople]]] [["Alright, I'll look for the key."->AgreeLookKey]] (set: $b to true)

"Look for the duke," Amram insists. "He //must// be informed." "What about you?" Mackenzie asks. You glance at the silent second mystic. She meets your eyes, radiating an unsettling confidence. "We will wait," Amram says firmly, "beneath the goddess's protection." "Close to the exit," Mackenzie says drily. Amram huffs but does not disagree. Instead he says, "Tonight is the night of her cleansing. Tonight she makes lambs into demons - [["Alright, we're going."->LeaveMysticsFirst]] (if: $needcrystal)[[["Actually, we need //your// help."->NeedHelpFromMystics]]] (set: $needkey to true)

Tarissa shifts her gaze across the room. Long and pregnant seconds pass. Mackenzie meets your eye and rolls hers, significantly. "The goddess will protect us," Tarissa pronounces. "She will //not//." Amram hisses malevolently. Tarissa gives you yet another expectant glance. [["Let's go."->NeedHelpMystics4]]

Mackenzie hesitates. "I don't like the look of that mage," she says. "I think we'd better get some more protection." [["How"->HowProtection]]

\ \ Hisses and screams rise behind you as you hurry back to the alcove that hides the two mystics. You leap over a large pool of blood that seems too much to have come from one person. Most of the remaining partiers are on this side of the room - by luck or by something more. They see you coming, and the mystic with the curly hair casts a ball of sunlit fire onto a nightwolf six paces away. The monster dies in a scream of singed fur and terrible smell, and at least two others lift their heads from nearby corners of the room. As you watch, they begin to lope towards the standing mystics like moths drawn to a deadly flame. [[Continue->BTM2]]

"Ambassador," Amram greets you. His cloak is unblemished, his eyes bright with something more than torchlight. "Have you found the duke or his key?" Behind him, the second mystic sights on a nightwolf, her left hand forming an 'L' in the air. Her right clutches whatever is on the end of her pendant. [["Actually, I need your help."->NeedHelpMystics2ndTry]]

"What's that now?" Amram takes a step back, surprised, and his eyes show a sudden lack of fortitude. "Help? What do you mean, help?" [["There's a mage guarding the portal."->NeedHelpMystics2]]

Havek looks up as you approach. His white hair is drawn back in a perfect knot, and his dark eyes are wise as he notes your approach. His jacket is looser and older than most, elegant in its frame and shoulders, not black but a deep and lasting midnight purple. Your professional training informs you he probably has a knife in that jacket. Your intuition tells you he probably knows how to use it. "Well," Havek says conversationally as you arrive, "You got what you wanted, didn't you?" [["What?"->Hav2]] (set: $Havek's talked to true)

Abruptly you find room for a perfect strike. Without hesitation, you: {(if: $monster is "skeleton" and $myweapondm's type is "mace")[[[Blast the cursed bones apart->BlastWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is not "knives")[[[Slam your $myweapon into its skull->SkullSlamWin]] ] (if: $monster is not "skeleton" and $myweapondm's type is not "mace")[[[Shove your $myweapon deep through its heart->HeartStabWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is not "mace" and $myweapondm's type is not "pike" and $monster is not "skeleton")[[[Slice through its neck from the back->NeckSliceBehindWin]] ] (if: $myweapondm's type is not "mace")[[[Punch your $myweapon straight into its ribs->PunchRibsWin]] ] }  (set: $droppedweapondm to $monsterweapondm)   (if: $monster is "skeleton" and $Mackenzie's following is true and $Mackenzie's weapon is not "chair leg")[(set: $fightloop to "MackenzieKillsSkeleton")]\ \ (if: $monster is not "golem" and $Mystics's following is true)[(set: $fightloop to "TarissaKillsCreature")]\ \ (if: $monster is "nightwolf" and $Countess's following is true and $Countess's weapon is not "none")[(set: $fightloop to "CountessKillsNightwolf")]\

Test sequence: Initializing: Your chosen creature is a (set: $koala to (dm: "name", "koala", "feature", "sharp claws", "limitation", "lazy")) (set: $lemur to (dm: "name", "lemur", "feature", "long tail", "limitation", "chatty")) (set: $mycreature to $koala) (set: $sarahscreature to $koala) [[Go!->TestP2]]

Alright! Your current companion is a: (print: $mycreature's name), limited by being (print: $mycreature's limitation). [[Keep this creature->TestP2]] [[Change to a lemur->PickUpLemur]] [[Chang to a koala->PickUpKoala]] [[Hand the (print: $mycreature's name) to Sarah->HandToSarah]]

You set your (print: $mycreature's name) carefully down. A chittering sound comes from the tree branch above your head. Leaves rustle. A lemur drops down onto your shoulders! (set: $mycreature to $lemur) [[Let's check!->TestP2]]

(set: $sarahscreature to $mycreature) Handover in progress... [[Continue->CheckSarah]]

Sarah's creature is now: (print: $sarahscreature's name) with the limitation: (print: $sarahscreature's limitation). [[Check yourself!->TestP2]]

You set your (print: $mycreature's name) carefully down. A rustle, and fragments of a leaf fall slowly on your head. You stretch out your arms, and a koala climbs firmly into your grip. (set: $mycreature to $koala) [[Let's check!->TestP2]]

"Ambassador." Havek smiles, stepping adroitly over the body of the fallen nightwolf. Remarkably, he looks untouched - a bit of grime on one cuff, dark against his darkened jacket. The knife in his left hand is long enough to skewer a golem. Its tip is stained with ichor. His smile could move a mountain. "Coordination in the face of a superior force," he says approvingly. "Turning their advantage against them." He takes in your expression. "But you didn't come for my praise." [["Just helping out."->JustHelping]] (if: $needkey)[[["We need a key for the side door."->NeedKey]]]

"Delicious," says the blonde mage - is that interestign? What's interesting here? Blonde mage helps you get a bunch of people out - and you get a completely different ending? "Delicious," says the blonde mage - it's a total tangent, isn't it? Mev stares down at the dead golem. He stares for a long time, or at least it seems long in the chaos around you. "I am in your debt," he says finally. [["Don't mention it." "But I will," he says seriously. "I don't know why the duke sees fit to kill me. But I will remember it was the $mycolor ambassador who stepped in the way." He bows, slightly. "I am at your service. You are forming a commandos, I see." [[ A man cries suddenly for help as a nightwolf leaps after him; his elegant shirt it torn and bloody, and he flees like a frightened hare. You recognize him: the man who called you a fool in the countess's circle. [[Defend him!->DefendArrogant]] Without further thought, you launch yourself forward. Your shoes are totally terrible for sprinting. The hard wooden floor plays murder on your unsupported arches. You sprint with all your weight forward and the nightwolf still pulls ahead of you; you're chasing from behind and it's running dead the other direction. You'll never catch it in time - [[Shout a challenge [[Throw your $myweapon [[Give up Your voice is half what it should be, and as threatening as a spitting cat caught wet in the rain. But the nightwolf turns in a too-fast-for-a-human perfect spin, and in its outside arm is a spear with a fat blade and blood-red tassle, and that spear is meant for your chest and it's only with the luck of the gods you manage to throw yourself to one side - As your hip sings loud with the pain, you push yourself up off the table that saved you. The nightwolf lets loose a short bark of frustration and anger. It gathers its spear and leaps forward. [[Fight->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SaveArrogant") Y You turn to the man you just saved, for a perfect moment his guilt and regret and desire for absolution run rampant across his face. His shirt is badly ripped, and there is a bloody bite on his arm. Steadying himself with visible effort, he bows to you and your companions (but mostly to you). "Ambassador," he says, and his voice is as silky as the moment you met him, whatever else has happened, "it seems I have misjudged you. And perhaps, all of the $mycolor $mykingdom as well." He looks around. "Whatever else happens tonight, you have bought yourself an ally." [["This is hardly the time." He shakes his head. "You'd be surprised," and there's a trace of the old arrogance back already. "You have your leverage. Use it." [["I want the merchants freed." [["I want trade reopened." "Of course," the man you rescued says. "Contact me afterwards. If we both survive." [["You should find a place to hide." "Your brilliance amazes," he says drily, but with a clasp of his hands that might have been a prayer, he ducks and finds his way among the scattered and overturned tables. [[Look around->LookAround]] [["There's an exit, in that corner." You might as well have told him...well, that there was a safe passage out. "My eternal loyalty," he says, with a clasp of his hands that might have been a prayer, he scuttles out in the direction of the hidden alcove with the exit. "Well that was fun," Mackenzie says, with a wrinkle in her nose that tells you what she thinks of him. [["Let's go."->SaveArrogant2]] "Yes, lets." [[Look around->LookAround]] s hiding place beneath a banquet table revealed His shirt is white and torn, an "Name's Sabea," the soldier says. "Key?" The soldier asks you with scared eyes. "Don't know - never heard there was a door there." She clutches her blade, and takes a visible breath to settle. "Halsa'd know." [["Who"->WhoHalsa]] "Captain Halsa. Doorkeeper." The soldier looks flighty as a bird, but her words are steady. Her eyes center on yours for only one moment in ten. "

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"A dozen $mycolor merchants in gulag. Putative tariffs on everything. A complete stop to all trade and with it, the flow of useful information." Havek catches your expression and smiles. His teeth are white, and his whole face softens. You judge he's either drunk, or very much doesn't care anymore. He looks you up and down and says approvingly, "At least you've got style." [[Smirk->Hav3]] [["Thanks?"->Hav3]] [["//Somebody// had to."->Hav35]]

"Sending two ambassadors to parley in the tiger's den," Havek clarifies, with a twitch of his smile that says 'gotcha'. "You knew it was his anniversery party, didn't you?" "His what?" "The anniversery of the his ascension to dukedom," Havek says, completely seriously. "Five years tonight. A period of uninterrupted improvement and prosperity." You mask your thoughts carefully. According to Zargrab, this duke's reign was a classic of petty cronyism, misdirected funds, and good old, run-of-the-mill corruption. But you're not sure what Havek thinks, or knows. [["Of course we knew."->Hav4OfCourse]] [["My compliments to the duke.->Hav4Sycophant]] [["That's a lie."->Hav4Lie]]

Havek chuckles. "I think you'll find competitors in the duke's court tonight," he allows. "But I will not be one of them. So tell me: what is your mission? You're here to jostle me, aren't you?" He swirls his glass, and the clear liquid inside spins nearly to its rim. It seems a practice gesture. He doesn't take a drink. His eyebrows wriggle at you expectantly. [["We're here to bring our merchants home."->HavMerchantsFull]]

"Of course," Havek agrees evenly. His smile remains on his face, but you sense he's getting bored. [["We're here to bring our merchants home."->HavMerchantsShort]] [[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]

"The duke has enough sycophants, I will not become one," Havek says with a smile that is noticibly less joyous. "You may tell him yourself, if you find it so necessary." He looks away, and you sense he would like to be done with you. [["We're here to bring our merchants home."->HavMerchantsShort]] [[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]

"But it's the official lie," Havek replies evenly, "so what then is the truth? Are you here to debate the success of the current reigning duke?" His smile is still there, but it's clear from his words that you should change the subject. [["We're here to bring our merchants home."->HavMerchantsFull]]

"And what makes you think he'll release them?" Havek asks, and his smile remains, like a painting left too long in the sun. "I cannot help them. The countess cannot help them. There is no voice that can change their fate, save that of the duke himself." He looks away, more prominently this time. "Perhaps you should speak to him directly." [["I will."->HMS2]] [["Zagreb will."->HMS25]]

Havek continues smiling. He doesn't say anything else. The silence wallows. You meet his eyes, and he wiggles his eyebrows with more dexterity than you'd have expected. They're clearly saying 'move along'. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Leave->MeetAmram]]]

Havek smiles blandly. "I am not surprised," he says. He doesn't say anything else. The silence grows, and when you catch his eye, he wiggles his eyebrows at you with far more dexterity than you'd have expected. His eyebrows are saying: 'move along'. [[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]

"Ah yes," Havek says. "Your butchers of mercy. Your wayfinders of war. Your malicious foreign influence. That is what we call the criminals now foundering in the duke's darkest dungeons. His words, you understand." [["I don't understand."->HavMerchantsFull2]]

"You mean you don't want to," Havek replies. "And I can see why. Selling ancient weapons to the highest bidder? That makes everyone nervous. Makes everyone wonder, what your $kingdom's real aim is." You frown again, and this one comes to your face. [["Our merchants don't sell weapons."->HavMerchantsFull3]]

"Of course not. Only the incredients, components, and schematics. It's not //your// fault a terrorist assembled them from a kit." Havek smiles again. It would be quite a smile, if you didn't listen to his words. "I'm not arguing. I am simply telling you - sentiment is against you. The duke personally ordered the arrest of all $mycolor merchants. For selling illegal goods." You stretch your memory. You're pretty sure that's //not// what had filtered back to the $mycolor $kingdom. [["Which illegal goods, exactly?"->HavWhichGoods]]

"How much do you know about golems?" Havek looks you in the eye, the beaded look of a very serious man who's smile has nothing at all to do with his emotion. You feel a trickle of something - not quite fear - in the pits of your arms as you respond: [["Plenty."->SkipGolemExplanation]] [["Actually, not much."->ExplainGolems]]

Havek nods. "Then there is little more to say," he says calmly. "The duke believes $mycolor merchants sell illegal items and components. I'm certain you had already heard of golems, and the rather specific spell-work and components required to create them." [["Of course."->Hav6]] [["Um...sure."->Hav65]]

"Ten foot tall, built from clay. Good at killing things that don't move very fast." Havek smiles, almost wistful. "They're not alive, so spells bounce off. They're not made of flesh, so swords won't stop them. They're big and they're heavy and they're damn hard to stop. One golem could take down a whole squad of soldiers." He trails off, expectantly. [["Were $mycolor merchants selling..."->Hav5]] [["What are you telling me?"->Hav5]]

"Not anything you don't already know," Havek says calmly. "You're here because the duke imprisoned your merchants. You knew he'd accused them of selling illegal items and components. I'm sure you've already heard of golems, and the rather specific spell-work and components required to create them." [["Of course."->Hav6]] [["Um...sure."->Hav65]]

"Of course," Havek agrees. In complete non sequitor, he adds, "Your senior ambassador has disappeared. I imagine that means there's more for you to do?" You look around in surprise. Zagreb is indeed not in easy view. Havek meets your questioning gaze with the kind of eyebrow-wiggle that very few men can pull off. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Leave->MeetAmram]]]

Havek gives you the look he'd give your slowest pupil. "Then you already know everything," he concludes with finality. "Now go away. Your senior ambassador has disappeared; I'm sure that means you have more work to do." You look around in surprise. Zagreb is indeed not in easy view. Havek meets your questioning gaze with the kind of eyebrow-wiggle that very few men can pull off. (if: $meetturns is not 2)[[[Leave->LookAroundForMeets]]](else:)[[[Leave->MeetAmram]]]

"Of course," says one of the four, his eyes on you as he talks to his neighbor, "that's not to say the //Foreign// influence is idle. Indeed, they even come to our parties." Four pairs of eyes turn to you like a nest of hungry snakes. They take in your clothes, your body, your posture, and lastly your face. An incredibly awkward half-breath passes, before one of them says smoothly, "Hagrev, you're wrong. We //welcome// the foreign connection." The speaker bows slightly. You recognize the total insincerity of it before he says, "After all, they jack up our prices with their //expensive// goods. Where would the common man be, if not for their merchants?" "Better off," the first courtier says. "Not to hear them tell it," says the second. You recognize a slight pause as your opening: [["You've banned our goods."->BannedGoods1]] [["And so you took prisoners?"->TookPrisoners1]]

You feel annoyingly alone as you leave the little group. No dancers, partiers or drunken wanna-get-laids will get within a dozen steps of these four. You walk across the open space, feeling the throb of a truly //slow// ballad rattle in your bones, and consciously quicken your step. You almost miss the brush of soft, quick fingers on your elbow. [[Turn->MN1A]]

The countess walks beside you. Her eyes are rimmed with painted gold; gold like the rims of her ears and the thick stripe painted down across her lower lip. But beneath the gold her eyes are pale, almost small - and very human. "Walk", she whispers, in a glance and a breath that will not lift above the music, and she sheets past you while your brain calls a complete halt to process her words. [[Follow her!->MN2]]

You backhand the mage across the face, and the force of it throws him back on his ass. Magic kicks out from his fingers like sparks of molten glass from a blower; the shatter on contact with the wooden floor. The duke shrinks back into the corner as you rest your $myweapon on the mage's neck. [["Release the summoned creatures."->OptSpareMage]] [["Drop the portal."->OptSpareMage]] [[Kill him->KillMageCold]] The mage holds your eyes for a moment rich with malice. He eyes something behind you - the doorway, Zagreb, you don't know. There's blood on his lips; the same blood that's on your knuckles. Your $myweapon shakes slightly in your grip. His lips move. He spits blood. "You'll kill me." [["Release the summoned creatures and I won't." [["Close the portal and I won't." The mage watches your eyes for a long moment. "You can't trust him," Zagreb says suddenly, from too close behind you. You turn - you can't help yourself - and he stands easily inside your reach. His eyes are on the mage, and then on yours. Rich with trust. Confidence. Meaning. "We have to kill him." "//Fuck// you," the mage says. To you, he says, "I'll take it." "No!" Zagreb cries. The duke's chin jerks sharply, as though physically hit. His eyes flick narrowly onto the fallen mage, before settling back on you. The duke's right hand, hidden close to the wall, makes an unmistakable horizontal flicking motion. //The duke wants him dead too//, you realize. [["Deal." The mage rises to his feet. No one else moves. He takes in your expression for a moment and snorts, one part humor, ten thousand parts malice. He swings his arms low and then wide, and then high and wide, extended towards the corners of the ceiling. He brings his breath in, filling his chest. And then in a single exhaling motion he tucks his arms and closes his fists and bows his head and blows what's left in his lungs out through his nostrils. A snap echoes through the wall from the room outside. A long and silent moment passes. Through the window, you watch a partier stumble out into the open. He looks, somewhat crazily, all around the room. He spreads his arms wide and throws back his head, and as his long hair hangs freely he laughs a thoroughly drunken laugh. Other partiers step out into view. Few laugh. A not so small number look unmistakably at the wall with the window, as though they can see right through to you. "And now?" the mage says conversationally. [["Hold on."

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The mage holds your eyes for a moment rich with malice. He eyes something behind you - the doorway, Zagreb, you don't know. There's blood on his lips; the same blood that's on your knuckles. Your $myweapon hovers in easy stabbing distance of his neck. His lips move. He spits blood. "You'll kill me." [["Release the summoned creatures and I won't."->OSM2]] [["Close the portal and I won't."->OSM2]]

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The mage watches your eyes for a long moment. "You can't trust him," Zagreb says suddenly, from too close behind you. You turn - you can't help yourself - and he stands easily inside your reach. His eyes are on the mage, and then on yours. Rich with trust. Confidence. Meaning. "We have to kill him." "//Fuck// you," the mage says. To you, he says, "I'll take it." "No!" Zagreb cries. The duke's chin jerks sharply, as though physically hit. His eyes flick narrowly onto the fallen mage, before settling back on you. The duke's right hand, hidden close to the wall, makes an unmistakable horizontal flicking motion. //The duke wants him dead too//, you realize. [["Deal."->MakeDealMage]]

The mage rises to his feet. No one else moves. He takes in your expression for a moment and snorts, one part humor, ten thousand parts malice. He swings his arms low and then wide, and then high and wide, extended towards the corners of the ceiling. He brings his breath in, filling his chest. And then in a single exhaling motion he tucks his arms and closes his fists and bows his head and blows what's left in his lungs out through his nostrils. A snap echoes through the wall from the room outside. A long and silent moment passes. Through the window, you watch a partier stumble out into the open. He looks, somewhat crazily, all around the room. He spreads his arms wide and throws back his head, and as his long hair hangs freely he laughs a thoroughly drunken laugh. Other partiers step out into view. Few laugh. A not so small number look unmistakably at the wall with the window, as though they can see right through to you. "And now?" the mage says conversationally. [["Just wait."->AlliesIntoRoom]]

In the corner, the Duke of Zterre watches you unmoving. His eyes lock yours, a question high in their brown surface. Zagreb paces behind you, nervous as a cornered cat, and just as untrustworthy. You can practically hear him scheming in your mind. Your allies stumble into the room. And you lower your $myweapon. [[Breathe->PostFinalFightOnlyDuke]]

"Well, fuck." Mackenzie is the first to speak, taking in the three ringleaders with one professional flick of the eyes, and zeroing in on you with a tableteer's instinct for a story. "Kelek's breath, $myname. When you set out to do a thing." "The $mycolor ambassador," Mev notes, deadpan and without particular opinion behind it. His eyes are for the duke. "My condolences." "Meverin," the duke says aloud, and you realize it's the first time you've actually heard his voice. It comes out boyish and rather uncertain. "I have been betrayed." "Hm?" Mev asks, without moving his expression an inch. "And if we asked, His eyes avoid yours. Your allies', however. They are all on you. [["The duke was in on it."->DukeWasIn]] [["He's right. It was all the mage."->CoverForDeadZagreb]]

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Hm... "Wait a minute," Mackenzie says, as you catch your breath for a bare few seconds. The noise is incredible, screams and cries and yells and roars and the clang of metal on metal. Your foot slips in a puddle of what used to be a plate of food. A severed arm lies lifeless not far away. [["What?"->PortalHook]] (set: $lookaroundpsg to "LookAround")

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"Against spells," Havek says. "You'll need a mystic. Or one of their crystals." (if: $Mystics's talked is not true)["I saw them," Mackenzie adds. "Far wall."](else:)["We know where they are," Mackenzie says. "By the alcove with the //escape door//."] Havek smiles. "I see. Then perhaps our course is clear." "Fucking gods, yes." Mackenzie repeats. "Yes." Havek agrees. He looks to you. "After you." (if: $Mystics's talked is true)[[["Let's go."->BackToAlcove]]](else:)[[["Let's go."->FindDeadMystic]]] (set: $Havek's following to true) (set: $Havek's talked to true) (set: $Havek's saved to true)

"Your lead," Havek says, and you are off. You cross the open dance floor at a loping, slipping run. Bodies and fluids and bones and dropped weapons are scattered in non-random piles. Partiers and soldiers are forming into groups along the walls, forming circles of protection that call larger groups of monsters in their turn. The few remaining stragglers are hiding; one catches your eyes as you run, and is quickly left behind. Your heart thumps loudly in your throat. The mystics's alcove is silent and empty. No robed figures appear among the wreckage. Panting, you arrive in a rush. And a nightwolf springs from its crouch. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "BroughtKey") (set: $Havek's following to true) (set: $Havek's saved to true) (set: $monster to "nightwolf") (set: $monsterweapon to "hook-tipped pike") (set: $monsterweapondm to $hooktippedpike)

You see the mystics, holding their own with their backs to an alcove in the wall. [[Help them.->BackToMystics]] (if:

"You see?" The man says, his white hair is drawn back in a perfect knot, and his eyes are wise as he notes your approach. His companion is a much younger man, dark-haired and frowning heavily. "I don't." "A moment." The man in front of you is nearly bald How do I force it? Do we need to? Rescue pretty, rescue arrogant, if Mackenzie following and turns > 8 I mean: Mackenzie to PortalNeedsAcolytes to GetAcolyte to portalkill to finalboss "Wait," Mackenzie pants, catching your attention. [[Talk to Mackenzie->MackenziePortalHook]] < .. > Countess to finalboss < .. > Acoyltes Save to key to Havek

"I have it," Havek confirms. "But I will not use it." "Why not?" Mackenzie demands. "There is a horde in this room. More come every moment. The mage stands undefeated, and so far, not even challenged." Havek replies. [["All the more reason to escape."->ShouldEscape]]

"And then the horde will follow," Havek replies. His smile is bland and bright. "And the carnage will grow from the highest tower to the darkest tunnel." Mackenzie says, "You're leaving them to die." "I have no doubt I will also join their fate," Havek admits. "I am certainly also a target. That I was not invited elsewhere makes that abundently clear." [["Invited elsewhere?"->InvitedElsewhere]] [["We need the key."->NeedKey2]]

"Clearly, this was a planned event," Havek replies, as a golem roars nearby, and a partier's cry of fear is cut short abruptly. "And I judge it's purpose to be exactly what we see now." "Murder," Mackenzie provides.  "And on a grand scale," Havek agrees. "I'm sure a select few were warned in advance. You won't find them in this room. That I am here, unwarned - well, that is an answer in itself." [["Who did it?"->Invited2]]

"I've told you my reasons," Havek replies evenly. You can't help but notice his knife is drawn and ready. [["It's the right thing do."->RightThing]] [["The door is narrow. Defensible."->PragmaticThing]]

"You'd save a few. And many more would fall. The garrison could handle some of the nastier pieces. But far more would die, than if we simply made our peace here." Havek shakes his head. "The answer is no. Kill the mage who called the portal. His summons will die with him. //That// is the solution you should offer." [["This mage. Where is he?"->WhereMageMain]]

"The door is behind his table, directly to the left of the painting of the lightning shrike. But no matter, if that is where you're heading, I will go with you." (if: $Mystics's following is not true)[He shifts, as though ready to go in a moment. "But you will need protection." [["Protection?"->NeedProtection]]](else:)[He shifts on his feet, ready to go in a moment. "It seems you have protection." [["Protection?"->TarissaProtection]]] (set: $seenspyroom to true)

"Her." He nods at Tarissa. "When you go to kill a mage, they'll always strike first. You need something that can absorb a spell or to, so you can get close enough to finish them. She'll do." Tarissa sniffs and says, "The mage is an unknown. I will protect what I can." "Better than before," Havek replies. There is a slight pause, as all eyes turn to you. [["I've made my decision."->MakeDecisionHavek]]

"People are dying," Mackenzie reminds you. "We can't guarantee we'll take down the mage." "The mage made this happen," Mev argues. "I say we kill him. Fast." (if: $Mystic's talked is false)[[["We'll head for the mystics."->FindDeadMystic]]](else:)[[["We'll head for the mystics."->BackToAlcove]]] [["We're going for the duke."->PreDukeDoorHavek]]

(if: $Mev's following)["Damn right," Mev says. He grips his (print: $Mev's weapon) in a determined grip. ] "The duke will have the mage, and perhaps a few guards," Havek informs you. Tension runs through your little group like rain through a cloth; Havek alone seems immune. "The room is small. Rush him, kill the mage, before he can stop you." You judge 'he' is the duke. "The rest we can handle ourselves." "Sounds risky," Mackenzie says. "Surprise is our best option," Havek replies. Mackenzie stretches her face into a grimace that might have been a smile. She swings her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) in a slightly incoherent pattern. "You're gonna make a story," she says. (if: $Mystics's following)["We are ready," Tarissa says solemnly.](else:)[You take a deep breath.] [["We go now."->BreakIntoBossRoom]]

Havek's smile tilts down like a mirror angled away from the sun. He pauses for a moment. "A gamble," he says. (if: $Mev's following is true)["Better'n here," Mev adds. ] (if: $Mystics's talked is true)[[["The mystics are guarding it."->PT25]]] [[Wait silently->PT2]]

"And they will help," Havek allows. He considers for one last moment. "Your words have merit. We should go at once. And together." (if: $Mackenzie's following is true)[Mackenzie makes a noise between a snort and a grunt.] A golem stomps through a row of narrow tables to your left. The alcove with the secret door is behind you. [["Let's go."->BackToAlcove]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

"But a better one than here," Havek allows. He considers for one last moment. "We should go at once. And together." (if: $Mackenzie's following is true)[Mackenzie makes a noise between a snort and a grunt.] A golem stomps through a row of narrow tables to your left. The alcove with the secret door is behind you. [["Let's go."->BackToAlcove]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

Havek shrugs, his smile open. "That is a question for a survivor. We have more pressing concerns, I think." "The key," Mackenzie provides. "Indeed." Havek agrees. "You have my answer. The key stay with me." [["It's the right thing do."->RightThing]] [["The door is narrow. Defensible."->PragmaticThing]]

Leaping to Havek's defense, you charge the pair of nightwolves with a bloodcurdling cry. The wolves turn as one, snarls dripping from their throats. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedHavek") (set: $monster to "nightwolf") (set: $monstercount to 2) (set: $monsterweapon to "short spear") (set: $monsterweapondm to $shortspear) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3)))

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"No." The mage answers that one; his eyes are dark, and firm and calculating. His fists are clenched at his sides, but you don't think it is anger. You sense he'd be ready to strike at a moment's notice. "A reasonable point," Zagreb allows. "Zyxos, if you would?" "I said 'no'." The mage's voice is an iron shard. You see Zagreb's eyes register the change. A dozen thoughts flash through his face, and your boss - the man who's been your mentor for over four years - you can read them like an open page. "Edze," Zagreb says slowly, not turning, and you realize he's talking to the duke. But Edze says nothing. Facing them both, you can see the duke's face. His eyes are alert, watchful, and calculating. No words leave his mouth. The mage chuckles. "The summons stay," he says. "Your targets are dead." Zagreb says, still without turning. "Not all of them," The mage replies, and in the silence that follows you feel the cold and deadly touch of fear. The mage's eyes glitter with hateful triumph; his gaze is fixed on Zagreb's back. And on you. You don't have to be a diplomat to know exactly who his remaining targets are. Zagreb tilts his chin. His hand is in front of him, visible only to you. He forms his fist in an unmistakable sign. A great weight seems to settle on his shoulders, and then slide off again. He smiles, and it's only because you've worked with him for years that you can see his sadness. "I see," your mentor says. "Our arrangement helps us both." You're not sure who he's talking to. The duke shows no sign of hearing him. The mage chuckles. "You're way too smart for your own good," he says. And he shoves black magic magic down into the floor. [[Attack!->AttackAndZagrebDiesToMage]] [[Do nothing->ZagrebDiesToMage]]

Throwing yourself forward, you're forced to dodge around Zagreb. He's fast, but not as fast as you. You're three steps from the crouching mage when black magic explodes from his hands. Zagreb grunts as if struck. You've barely time to look - black magic billows over your old mentor's head, so thick you can't even see his hair - and his body falls like a doll's as you cross the last two steps to the mage and- [[Punch him->FightFinalMage2]] [[Backhand him->FightFinalMage2]]

Zagreb turns faster than you've ever seen him turn. His punch-dagger is suddenly clasped in his grip, and he throws himself at the crouching mage from a distance of only three paces. The mage never has a chance. Dark magic explodes from his open hands. It billows over Zagreb's chin; billows fat around his neck and over his head, and before you can blink it sinks like smoke into Zagreb's skull. A pulse passes through the air of the little room and through the hollows of your chest, like a drumbeat on a drum set too low for hearing. And as Zagreb crumbles lifeless to the floor, the mage strides toward you in three power-hungry steps. "Be fucked," he snarles in your face. And he casts black magic with his palm right in front of your eyes. [[Blink->FightFinalMage1]]

"Good," Zagreb says. "Now, Zyxos - " The mage behind him clears his throat. "You didn't ask what I want," he says. Zagreb pauses. "Sorry?" "What do I get?" The mage repeats. "I know how this goes. Five minutes later you both pin this on me. Don't think I didn't hear the little stories goin' round." Zagreb's eyes turn distant. You can't believe he didn't think of this. You can see by his expression that he is surprised - and suddenly very wary indeed. "I presume Xephan paid you," Zagreb tries, without turning around. "Did," the mage agrees, and you realize Xephan must be the duke. "Doesn't mean he wasn't gonna leave me out like goose-bait. Got to figure, a mage has ears, you know? Listenin' to all your secret double-dealin'?" You watch Zagreb's expression turn from worry to outright, honest-to-the-gods fear. You feel a cold awareness settle on your own neck like a wet cloth. Your fingers tighten around the grip of your (print: $myweapondom's type). Zagreb stands directly between you and the mage. The mage casts black magic down into his fists. "Now!" Zagreb commands. [[Attack!->AttackAndZagrebDiesToMage]] [[Do nothing->ZagrebDiesToMage]]

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"Thank you." The duke steps finally away from his wall. His eyes pass lightly over your allies, as though marking them. His tone is humble and simple. "First, I must thank you all. Without you, the tragedy tonight - " he pauses for a sympathetic look through the window in the wall, "would be far worse than it already is. You have my sincere thanks, and gratitude." He bows, possibly the slightest bow you've seen this whole night through. He fixes you with a look. "Zyxos alone did this," the duke declares. [["He's lying!"->DukeCounterStory]] [[Stay silent->DukeStory2B]]

The duke fixes you with a look that's not quite innocent. "He brought a store of //ignaz//, and a spellbook as rare as they come. I confess I was tempted," the duke admits. "There was trouble at the border. Garrisons near the Xervai were losing men and women nearly every week. Zyxos claimed he could provide a solution." "Hmm," Mackenzie says, and there is a hunter's expression on her face. "And tonight? What did //Zyxos// get out of //this?//" Emotion trembles in her voice, and she gestures - a little too grandly, but how can you blame her - at the terrible scene beyond the window. "Power," the duke says after a moment. (if: $Countess's following is true and $countessstory is not true)["Liar," the countess says beside you, with so much hate in her voice you wouldn't be surprised if she stabbed the duke herself. [["What do you mean?"->CountessStory]]](else:)[Mackenzie coughs, and it's almost a sob, and it's fat with disbelief. "Ambassador?" she asks. [["He's full of shit."->DontCoverDuke]] [["I believe him."->SaveDuke]] [["We can't be sure."->AgnosticDukeEarly]]]

"Zyxos' feared another mage coming to challenge him," the duke says easily. "He wanted to prevent the flow of more //izgan//. When tariffs didn't work, he ordered your mages's arrest." He bows to you, just slightly. "Of course, they will all be released." You frown at his rather glib reply. Something here isn't right. [["How did he get so close?"->HowClose]]

The duke stares. His eyes flick to Zagreb's dead form, and then to you. Understanding follows, and in perhaps the most gratifying expression you've seen in this whole terrible night, you watch the Duke's careful confidence fail. "I didn't kill him," he protests. "Zyxos did -" "Zyxos, who was working for you." Mackenzie provides. "Ambassador," the duke tries to growl, "Don't make this mistake." But his is the growl of a cornered fox before a pack of wolves. [["What about our merchants?" "Released, within the hour. You can greet them tonight yourself." The duke shrugs. "They were always leverage." Your allies wait. [["And trade with the $mycolor $mykingdom?" "Open, of course." the duke replies, and his voice isn't quite smooth - as though the fox is all to ready to bite the hand that feeds it. "Released, within the hour. You can greet them tonight yourself." The duke shrugs. "They were always leverage." [["You're an asshole." "And you have no power to be anything else.Or be the one to release them You realize that your words He turns, once again, to you. Surrounded by your allies, rescued from his plot. Two steps from his dead mage and three from the dead ambassador of the queen who already doesn't like him. [["The duke stays here."->LeaveDukeAnyway]] [["We'll take him with us."->ArrestDuke]] Hm. Maybe...jury of those you saved judge him?

"My flute!" The flutists dives at the falling golem, dodging death by squishing by a moment. He scrabbles at the creature's sagging hide, uselessly. "//Damn// you," he says, not meeting your eyes, but cursing unmistakably in your direction. "My flute was a Taradge. They don't make them anymore. It's worth five thousand solemns." Climbing to his feet, he stares at your shoes. "You didn't have to kill it." [["Yes, I did."->YesMurder]] [["The flute or the golem?"->FluteOrGolem]] [["I'm sorry."->SorryFlutist]] (set: $Flutist's saved to true) (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

"Murder is only a failure of the imagination," the flutists informs you. "Devi Haman said that. She was talking about assassinations, of course. But I don't think a golem is much different." He scratchs his wrist. His performance shirt is smeared with something dark and gritty. "It would have been better if //I//'d killed it," the flutist continues. "So that it would be self-defense. Though Riea Jolar says that's just a fancy word for murder." [["I don't have time for philosophy."->DontPhilosophy]]

"No, you probably don't," the flutist agrees. "It seems like you'd be better at killing monsters." [["Speaking of..."->FlutistShouldHide]] [["You should hide."->FlutistShouldHide]] [["There's an exit."->FlutistShouldExit]]

"Obviously, the golem. A distraction would have been enough." He looks over your shoulder, taking in the chaos. "Though there are fewer distractions every minute." [["You should hide."->FlutistShouldHide]] (if: $needkey is true)[[["There's an exit."->FlutistShouldExit]]]

"Yes, I can see several dozen monsters. Someone is summoning them through a portal. You should really do something about that." [["//I// should?"->FlutistRequest]] (set: $flutistexit to "hide")

"An escape route." The flutist considers, looking where you're pointing. Amram catches your look and waves, a little desperate, and very obvious. "Yes. That seems worth the risk. There are really a lot of monsters," he informs you. "Someone is summoning them through a portal. You should really do something about that." [["//I// should?"->FlutistRequest]] (set: $flutistexit to "escape")

"Good." The flutist says with seems like honest satisfaction. (if: $flutistexit is "hide")[Without further ado, he walks three steps, then tucks himself under a half-collapsed table.](else:)[He leaves your side at a calm walk, heading for the alcove.] You shake your head and turn to survey the room. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

"I'm sure that's not true," the flutist says bluntly. Without another look, (if: $flutistexit is "hide")[he tucks himself under a half-collapsed table with a richly purple cloth strung over it.](else:)[he strikes out across the room, heading for the alcove.] You shake your head and turn to survey the room. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

"Of course. You seem well suited to it." The flutist looks you over without judgement. Gods know what you look like - your $myclothes clothes strained and torn and smeared with three different kinds of blood. There's grit in your hair and both hands are sticky with sweat and bone-dust and ichor. And your $myweapon is frankly medieval. You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"grin","snarl","crack your neck firmly","toss your hair") and twirl your (print: $myweapondm's type) with a flourish. [["You're damn right I am."->FlutistCompliment2]] [["I guess."->FlutistComplement]]

"Yes," the flutist agrees simply. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie snickers behind you.] The flutist looks back down at the fallen golem. "I'm sorry," he says solemnly. "I will always remember you." He lingers for a long and quite unmoving moment. The golem lingers like a slowly decaying lump of clay. "You should go," the flutist announces. "I'm sure you have more important people to save." [["Totally."->TotallyMoreImportant]] [["Everyone is important."->EveryoneImportant]] [["Goodbye."->FlutistGoodbye]]

"You are," the flutist repeats. "Most of the others are dead." You can't argue with his blunt logic. The band member looks back down at the fallen golem. "I'm sorry," he says solemnly. "I will always remember you." He lingers for a long and quite unmoving moment. The golem lingers like a slowly decaying lump of clay. "You should go," the flutist announces. "I'm sure you have more important people to save." [["Totally."->TotallyMoreImportant]] [["Everyone is important."->EveryoneImportant]] [["Goodbye."->FlutistGoodbye]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

With a groan you launch yourself after the lumbering golem. The flutist scrambles out of the monster's reach - he holds his hands out as he backs away slowly, as though trying to calm the summoned creature. It isn't working. Your nearly trip on a fallen partier as you close the final distance. The golem's head creaks far around as it turns to fix you in it's glare - a giant, bloody cleaver clutched in it's arm! [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedFlutist") (set: $monster to "golem") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapon to "giant, bloody cleaver") (set: $monsterweapondm to $giantbloodycleaver) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3)))

Rounds? Randomize: Mackenzie Countess Mystics (Havek) [ from mystics if alive ] Angry Pretty Flutist Random drunks CountessR2 - only 1 guard left fill 4 I mean, envision only hitting this 3 or 4 times. Primary path runs either: Mackenzie, 10 rounds fighting one way or another, portal hint, get mystics (dead), portal, soldierhint, dukedoor or Countess, get mystics (alive or dead), dukedoor I think it's fun just rto run it. To creatively fill in. Righ?

"Commendable, and ineffective," Havek critiques. "You should be going after that portal. If you're looking to stem the tide." He straightens his jacket with one hand. [["You're welcome."->JustHelping2]]

"For your assistance? Yes, yes, of course. But you are planting a board against the sand. There are far too many summoned already." He glances at your allies. He glances behind you. "You fight a losing battle, my friend. Whatever you're going to do, you had best hurry." [["How do I shut down the portal?"->HowShutDownHavek]]

"Any blade will do," Havek says. "Simply interrupt the boundary where the magic joins our world. The resulting singularity will collapse the portal's spell." He eyes your little group again. "The mage will get you first, though." [["What do you mean?"->HowShut2]]

"You've never fought a mage, or you wouldn't be asking," Havek says. "You charge that one, and he'll kill you before you ever get close enough to touch him. Mages kill with magic. Only way to block it is to have magical shield of your own." [["How would I get one?"->HowShut3HavekLies]]

Havek shrugs and spreads his hands. "If I knew that, do you think I'd be standing here?" [["Come with us, then."->InviteHavek]] [["Alright, we're leaving."->LeaveHavekFirst]] "Ask the mystics," Havek says. "Or one of their crystals. get one of the mages on your side." Mackenzie

Havek laughs at your suggestion. "While you fling yourself around and hack things?" He asks. "Come back when you have a plan. Until then, I'll keep my back to the wall." You sense his determination. His smile is firm and unyielding. "Let's go," Mackenzie suggests. [[Leave->LeaveHavekFirst]]

"Save yourselves," Havek suggests as you go. You don't turn to answer. In a few quick steps, you've left the little alcove behind. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

Hello! And welcome to this game! This game is meant to be played in first person. Your dialogue and action options will appear in gold. Options in quotes are dialogue choices: things you say! The next page of the story will continue as though the other characters just heard you say these words. Options without quotes are actions: things you do! Typically these are simple actions: breathe in, walk away, punch something. The next page of the story will continue as though you just completed this action. [["Yes!"->YesExample]] [[Turn in a circle->TurnCircleExample]] (set: $helperscount to 0)

Your voice echoes slightly in the large and nearly-empty room. It doesn't disturb the three musicians, warming up on the permanent wooden stage. You're sure their discordant notes can be heard throughout the whole fortress. (if: $helperscount < 1)[[[Turn in a cirle->TurnCircleExample]]](else:)[[[Continue tutorial->ExplainDropdowns]]] (set: $helperscount to it + 1)

You feel slightly dizzy after your spin. You feel glad of your soft-soled shoes on this well-oiled dance floor, even if it's lit by pitch-burning torches and smells of unwatered wine. (if: $helperscount < 1)[[["That was a mistake."->YesExample]]](else:)[[[Continue tutorial->ExplainDropdowns]]] (set: $helperscount to it + 1)

That's it! You're ready to play the game. You take a deep breath. Warm air fills your nostrils, carried from the open desert. A faint tremble rumbles through the wooden floor beneath your feet. Three uneventful hours pass... [[Begin Story->MusicOpening]] [[Back to Settings->Initializing]]

[[How to play the game->HelperOpening]] [[Synopsis (no spoilers)->Synopsis]] [[Disclaimers & Content Warnings->ContentWarnings]] [[Play Game!->Initializing]]

The Duke of Zterre is throwing a gala. Counselors and courtiers and hangers-on of every kind are all in attendance. The night is young, the liquor is flowing, and the music is perfect for dancing. It's just too bad you're here on assignment - as junior ambassador, you're here to persuade the duke and his followers of the error of their ways. Ways like imprisoning your queen's merchants and travelers for no reason at all. But there's more than diplomacy on the soft desert wind. You'll need your weapons as well as your wits to survive what the duke has planned - and your choices will determine who lives and who dies. Good luck! [[Back to Settings->SettingsIntro]] [[Begin game->Initializing]]

This game contains: - a fair amount of blood and violence. "You plunge your sword into the monster's neck" and "Black blood pools under the corpse" are pretty representative. - fantasy monsters: golems, animated skeletons, and "nightwolves" (think werewolves), who do lots of fantasy violence. "The golem gnaws on a torn-off limb as it raises its giant bronze cleaver" is a pretty good example. - mild sexual themes and innuendo. "Her lips taste of sunshine and sweat" is as detailed as it gets. There are no images and no audio in this game. [[Back to Settings->SettingsIntro]]

Please take a moment as we portal you into a magical world. Characters initialized. Monsters constructed. Party commencing... [[Start!->MusicOpening]] [[I played the demo->JumpToDemoSettings]] [[How to play the game->HelperOpening]]

It's clear the Duke has something else up his sleeves. A strange new mage is making waves in his court. The counselors are worried. It's going to be quite a party. The party starts tonight. But something else is afoot. Clearly, you hav But something else is afoot. At least, it's supposed to be. Unfortunately you have a mission. You're here as a junior ambassador, and the wealthy duke has recently thrown you know something these partiers from Madrassa, youanother country You're the junior ambassador at a gala thrown by a foreign duke - a duke who's recently ordered the imprisonment of several merchants from your home country. Your boss has told you to 'work the room' - talk to various influencers in the duke's court, The world is pretty classic

"He's helped himself, and you have helped him." Havek's smile returns like a mask worn in a play. "I will open the door myself." The second mystic arrives from your left, silent, her eyes unconcerned. Where she was hiding you can't quite tell. "The goddess demanded that we remain," Amram protests. [["Why you?"->WhyHavek]] [["This is stupid."->KeyChoiceStupid]]

"Because when the time comes, I will close it." Havek answers you seriously, and you see his meaning in his eyes before he continues, "You can save some. Send all you can to pass through this passage. But when you are overwhelmed, and there are no more innocents to save - I will make sure the passage is closed. I will make certain the creatures in this room cannot escape." "Fool," Amram curses, and you're not sure he means you or Havek. His eyes are glittering with rage. "He is one of them, can't you see! He cares nothing for the innocents. He will let himself free and lock the rest of us inside." "There is little time," Havek reminds you. [["Havek keeps the key."->HavekKeepsKey]] [["Give Amram the key."->GiveAmramKey]]

Havek nods. He pushes past Amram's indignant splutter and ducks confidently into the shattered alcove. You don't quite see what he pulls form his jacket - but you blink when a crack appears in the wall of sandy stone that forms the back of the alcove. Havek shoves, using all his weight. And a portion of the wall swings backwards, stone blocks as large as your torso swinging together like a child's hinge-toy. There is a dark space just beyond, and Havek ducks inside. For a long moment, none of you move. And then Havek reappears. His arms rest out of sight on either side of the doorway. His glance is as heavy as a general ordering his soldiers to their doom. "I am sorry," he tells you seriously. And he shoves the stone door shut on you all. [[Leap forward->HavekKeepsKey2]] (set: $Havek's betrayed to true) (set: $Havek's following to false)

Havek gives you a look of purest condescension. He lets you hang long enough for another partier to die, somewhere not too far away; and then he pulls a narrow key from inside the chest of his dark jacket. Amram puts out his hand expectantly, and Havek tosses the priceless key rather than touch the mystic's hands. Amram catches it inelegantly. His fingers close firmly over the darkened piece of iron. He turns from your little group and clambers into the alcove. You all watch for a moment as he fumbles and mutters to himself. And then a crack appears in the wall of sandy stone. A portion of the wall swings backwards, stone blocks as large as your torso swinging together like a children's hinge-toy. You see a darkened passage just inside, and Amram returns. "We will defend this door to the last," he says. [["What now?"->GAK2]] "

You throw yourself forward, but you're already too late. Stumbling into the shattered alcove you push uselessly against the stone-block back wall. It doesn't give even an hair's breath. Your full strength is nothing more than a breath of wind for all it cares. Amram calls a curse so foul you barely believe he's a mystic. His glare rests on you as he says it, as though you're the one who's frozen him in here to die. "I //told// you," he finally manages, in the snarl of a wounded jaskar that doesn't do justice to the impotent rage in his eyes. "By Kelek, I //told// you." [["We need another key."->NeedOtherKey]] [["He lied to all of us."->HavekLiedAll]] [["We need to go."->NeedGoAmram]]

"Where? Why?" Amram snaps. "There is nowhere to hide. There are too many summons. Already they are hunting into the corners. How long do you think we have?" He clutches the crystal in his fist; raises his eyes skyward. "Great goddess protect us. She watches the worthy and protects that which is hers. She guides in service and sign. She-" [["We need your help."->NeedHelpMystics2FromKey]]

It's Havek. Your eyes meet for a long and thunderous moment. His smile is reflex only; it disappears like a startled rodent. You recognize a slight settling in his posture as a man getting ready to draw blood. [["You betrayed us!"->HavekPost2A]] [["You left us to die."->HavekPost2B]]

"What //about// me?" The countess asks testily, and her eyes are fixed on the wounded soldier's arm. [[Look to the soldier for help.->SoldierHelps]]

"Chief," the soldier says in a tone that's mixed like battlefield alcehmy - reproach, regret, and don't-be-an-idiot in one sloshing concoction. "No." The countess says firmly. "You're bleeding. We will stay here until the ambassador - until the portal - " She can't do it. "Come on, Chief." The soldier shifts under the countess's arm. "Y'know that's not gonna happen. Can't sit it out when we're losing the fight on the field." "I will not do it," the countess repeats. "I will not leave you to be eaten by one of his //creatures//." (if: $dooropen is true)[[["We found an exit."->SoldierToFoundExit]]] [["You can both come with us."->SuggestBothWith]] [["We have to kill Nyxos."->RemindKillZyxos]]

The countess's looks up. Her eyes are bright inside dark shadows; a pillar of purpose shines out of them. "Which one?" You point, and her glance takes only a second. "Bastard," she says again, and who exactly she's insulting you're not sure. But she turns to the wounded soldier and says, "It's open." "Take it." "//You'll// take it." The countess corrects. The soldier huffs. "My priority's protecting you," she says. "My job, and all that. No way you're getting me out without - " "You'll go for the palace guard," the countess commands, not looking for argument. "//They// will solve this problem. //I// will be here, with the ambassador." "Chief!" "He's sending the creatures after //me//," the countess says firmly. "If I go, they will only follow - and discover our only escape. Go, and bring the soldier back with you." "Fuck, chief." the soldier says. [["We'll escort you over."->ProposeEscort]]

The soldier snorts and shakes her head. "I'd only slow you down," she says. "You're better off with them, chief. The ambassador's got what it takes." Her look, up from the countess's arm, demands that you live up these stakes. [["We're going for Nyxos."->RemindKillZyxos]]

"No." the soldier grimaces, but pulls herself up with only a little support from the countess. "She's right. There's no time. Go for the duke, and kill his mage. You don't do it soon you're gonna be overrun." She looks over your shoulder. "Shit." She says. [[Spin!->SpinToPreCountessFight2]]

You spin, your $myweapon high. Three nightwolves stalk forward like the desert hunters they are. Their sickle-swords are dark with human blood. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "RescuedCountess") (set: $monster to "nightwolf") (set: $monstercount to 3) (set: $monsterweapondm to $sicklesword) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

You turn a quick cicle in the sudden space, checking your shoulder. Adrenaline pulses through your neck and fingers. "She's gone," the countess says, and her golden dress trails in black ichor. "Vanessa has gone for help. I suggest we buy her time." (if: not $havecrystal and not $Mystics's following)[[["What now?"->WhatNextCountess]]](else:)[[["What now?"->WhatNextCountessToDuke]]] (set: $promisedkillduke to true) (set: $Countess's following to true)

The countess nods once. A command. She turns to the injured soldier. "Vanessa - " "I know, chief." The soldier sits up under her own strength, wincing terribly; it's clear she's in no state to move far. "I'll just set up here. Stab anything that comes too close. You go do your thing." The countess stands, back straight, knees and legs doing all of the work. Her eyes meet yours. No words escape her painted lips; too much emotion pours from her naked eyes. [["Let's go."->MoveWithPromiseKillDuke]]

The countess looks up. Her eyes are bright inside dark shadows; a pillar of bloody purpose shines out of them. She takes in your face for a long and weighted moment, and shifts only as far seconds to your little group. Some calculation passes behind the glitter on her skin. "You'll have to kill //him//," she says. "The duke." Mackenzie clarifies, with a tableteer's eye for detail. "Yes," the Countess agrees. [["Yes."->PromiseKillDuke]] [["Why the duke?"->WhyKillDuke]]

Another nod. You roll your shoulders. You open your mouth to choose a direction, but the wounded soldier cries out in sudden alarm - "Behind you!" [[Spin!->SpinToPreCountessFight2]]

"//He// did this," The countess replies, her words dripping with blood. "This is his plan. All of it. Nyxos is only the weapon he chose to use." "Hmm," Mackenzie says beside you, not quite convinced. The countess fixes you with a glare. "He'll be in the room. With Nyxos. Standing back and watching it happen." [["Then he needs to die."->PromiseKillDuke]] [["We'll have to see what we find."->DontPromiseKillDuke]]

"You need a talisman. You won't survive a mage-fight without one." "And you don't have one?" Mackenzie asks, a little sharply. "I do not." The countess replies. She shakes the bangles on her wrist with something close to irritation; they tumble off her wrist and to the floor. "Ornaments, only." She turns to you. "I require a pike," she adds matter-of-factly. [["What?"->WhatIsPike]] [["We'll find one."->QuickPike]] (set: $needcrystal to true)

"A weapon with reach and a weighted blade," the countess replies. She stretches her arms, a rolling-shoulder motion that triggers a piece of your memory. It looks fit and practiced, and decidedly out of place on the countess. Behind you, Mackenzie snickers at some hidden joke. [["We'll find one."->QuickPike]]

"Quickly." the countess commands. "I dislike feeling useless." You pause to take a breath. The countess doesn't let you. (if: $havecrystal is true)["We have what we need," she says. "It's time to kill Nyxos." [[Head for the duke's door->PreDukeDoorHavek]] [["We have others to save first."->LookAround]]](else:)["The mystics have the only talismans that can challenge him," she reminds you. "Find them." [[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]] [[Look around->LookAround]]]

"Then you will see it without my help," The countess replies. "And he will get exactly what he wants. Which is everyone who could threaten him murdered, in this gods-damned room, all on the same gods-damn night, so that in the morning there's no one left to do a gods-damn thing about it!" Her words tumble over the bodies of her fallen guards. She draws her gaze back to the soldier in her arms. "Go," she commands you, without going up. "Kill the mage, at least. It's all for nothing if you can't at least do that." Mackenzie catches your eye and shrugs. [[Leave->LeaveCountess]]

You leave the countess and her injured guard, your heart still in your throat as you look around the room. Mackenzie shakes her head beside you. "You did the right thing," she says bracingly. "And we know where the second mage is." [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $seenspyroom to true)

The countess receives the (print: $droppedweapondm's label) with both hands. As you step back, she shifts it into an expert grip: one hand clamped near the end, the other gripping halfway up the shaft. She twirls the (print: $droppedweapondm's type) in a complicated stabbing pattern, as though testing it against some hidden metric. She rolls her bare shoulders again and this time your recognize it for what it is: a soldier's reset, practiced by professionals across the continent. She tilts her head slightly, then notices your (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"grim","disbelieving","open","admiring") expression. Her smile is as faint and pure as a winter dawn. (if: $Mackenzie's following is true)["We should go," Mackenzie says drily.] [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $Countess's weapon to $droppedweapondm's label) (set: $droppedweapondm to $noweapon)

Kinda probably. The countess - Narima? The countess, of course, stabs The countess Bright midnight. The single soldier falls, and falls, and falls through space. His armor is a patch of man-shaped black in a sky that glitters with the after-effects of the explosion Explosion doesn't do it justice, Lt. Malcom Fello things to himself. Ten thousand tons of leviathan-class Kekk battleship converted into heat and plasma in the space of less than a second. The shockwave has nothing to carry it, but the sear of light and heat makes midday sun on Mercury look like a candle. But gods-damned Wendall made it. His suit sends Fello's a ping of steady green - subtle as the wizards in the suit-mechs can make it I mean, some kind of sim would be fun. All about incentives (and events). We govern policy by: - Revenue: tax x, y, z - We want an incentive to include more people in wealth - anti-trust rules - strong financial rules (bankruptcy, intellectual property, contract enforcement) - anti-discrimination rules Our levers Merchants have grown Population growth! The latest generation has chosen to become merchants. Mix tax, subsidy, and direct investment - in military - we pay, we recruit - in university - we pay (some amount), ++ research development - in culture - we pay (some amount), more unique (chaotic) cultural effects (which make it harder to do deals with kingdoms that choose others). Includs: museaum (history), excavations, theater, colleseum - in health - we pay, citizen happiness/lifestyle: sewers, aqueduct, apothecary, public fountains, public square - in

The countess looks intense. "Zyxos must fall." [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

And the countess skewers it neatly with a triple-point thrust of her long (print: $Countess's weapon)! The $monster collapses (set: $mounstercount to it - 1)(if: $monstercount <= 0)[as she resets her stance, her eyes bright and alert for any new threat. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)](else:)[but she's barely time to reset, as the third $monster leaps into the gap- [[Fight!->FightLoop]]]

(set: $mounstercount to it - 1)\ A burst of sunlight flashes in your eyes, and you throw you hand up over them by reflex. As you blink tears from your eyes, you see no sign of the $monster - only a scorched pattern on the wood where the creature stood. Tarissa lowers her oustretched palm and whispers a word you can't quite hear(if: $monstercount <= 0)[- but another $monster leaps into the gap, and her arm isn't ready - [[Fight!->FightLoop]]](else:)[. Her expresion at your glance is unconcerned, and a little expectant. You recall you had a mission. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)]

And Mackenzie slams her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) hard into the skeleton's fragile shoulder, shattering its rib-bones and dropping its weapon-arm from its body. She kicks the still-standing frame to the floor, and twirls her mace round twice for effect.(if: $monstercount > 0)[ A flat glare fills her face as a third creature trundles forward to challenge her - (link-goto: "Fight", "FightLoop")](else:)[ A joy lights up her face that has nothing to do with your help. (link-goto: "Continue", $followpsg)]

Mackenzie picks up the (print: $droppedweapondm's label) and swings it around experimentally, judging its weight. She steps to one side, and with a flat-eyed look, swings it apruptly up over her shoulder and //slams// it down hard on the nearby buffet table. It buries itself in the mess of melons and dried meat and wood with a satisfying //crack//. You pick a chunk of melon off your cheek. "This'll work," Mackenzie says with obvious satisfaction. [["Let's go."->LookAround]] (set: $Mackenzie's weapon to $droppedweapondm's label) (set: $droppedweapondm to $noweapon)

(if: $Mev's following)["Damn right," Mev says. He grips his (print: $Mev's weapon) in a determined grip. ] Tension runs through your little group like rain through a cloth. (if: $Countess's following)["We have what we need," the Countess says, and it seems she might be convincing herself. "He cannot stop us. Not with magic." ] (if: $Mystics's following)["Kill him quickly," Tarissa instructs you. "You will not win a long fight."](else:)[You take a deep breath.] (if: $Countess's following)["Do //not// trust him," the Countess commands you. "He will lie, if you give him a chance. It's what he's good at." ] (if: $Havek's following)["Surprise is our best option," Havek replies.] (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie stretches her face into a grimace that might have been a smile. She swings her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) in a slightly incoherent pattern. "You're gonna make a story," she says.] (if: $Mystics's following)["I am ready," Tarissa says solemnly.] [["We go now."->BreakIntoBossRoom]]

You turn with the mire of skeletons on your $myweapon, breathing hard, and look - a little wildly - for Mackenzie. She stands with her chair-leg-club raised in defense, looking a little bit wild. "Well. That...//fuck//." She huffs a breath. "Bodyguard, huh?" [["It was nothing."->SJA15]] [["What the hell is going on?"->MackenzieGoingOn]]

The dead, I suppose. "Do you want a list?" asks Hyperion, from a space outside of time. [["Yes" "Kill him," The countess walks You have no warning. A glitter of gold and a waft of divine intention. The (print: $Countess's weapon) strikes hard and true and sinks deeply into the duke's chest. He lets out a cough. His eyes are locked on his killer. Something passes between them, more than words or guts or intuition could ever share. He passes with a single rattling breath. The Countess of Zterre pulls her weapon out of the duke's chest with a determined yank. Her own breath shudders through her chest. No one speaks. From beyond the narrow room come the voices of the few survivors. Consoling each other. Looking for the missing, and the wounded. Starting to question. The countess turns and leaves the room without a word. [[Continue-> Mackenzie laughs; it's gallows humor, cynical and bitter. "Beautiful," she says. "What?" " "The goddess has balance" Mackenzie says"Now what?" Mackenzie asks. "What do you mean?" "Your boss dead. "He did this," the countess says, and without waiting for an answer she takes her pike Not Mackenzie, though her eyes are narrow and watchful. Not Havek, though his knife is back in his hand. his reach an easy stride away. Not Tarissa, whose hand is on her crystal. You realize, with sudden weight, that the only person who knows the truth is you. [["The duke was guilty." Your voice is loud in the little room. "Proof," Mackenzie demands. pierces an very surprised duke through his unprotected

Double-click this passage to edit it.

You stare down at your (print: $myweapon's type). Everything the duke's magic touched is simply gone; what remains is a stump not long enough to pierce a skeleton's rib bone. It weight about as much as a dinner plate and is precisely just as useful. Your eyes meet the duke's. His expression is bland, his jaw relaxed. Only his eyes breathe deadly malice - malice that is quickly masked as Mackenzie says - "Well, //fuck//." [[Continue->PostFinalFightDukeMage]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

Mackenzie takes in the room with one professional flick of the eyes, and zeroes in on you with a tableteer's instinct for a story. "Kelek's breath, ambassador. When you set out to do a thing." (if: $Havek's following)["The $mycolor ambassador," Havek notes, deadpan and without particular opinion behind it. His eyes are for the duke. "Senior. My condolences."](else-if: $Mev's following)["Shit, the ambassador." Mev says.](else:)["The ambassador?" she asks, a loaded question cast into the air."] "He died well," the duke says aloud, and you realize it's the first time you've actually heard his voice. It comes out boyish and glib. His eyes lock on yours, the weight of all that's happened rich between you. Something sticks in your throat. [["He died defending me."->CoverForDeadZagreb]] [["Zagreb was in on it."->ZagrebWasIn]]

Flow 1 - Recruited countess, countess kills duke, new countess, of course grants release. - Recruited countess, countess tries to kill duke, mage-light saves, prove duke is mage. Flow 2 - Killed Zyxos, killed Zagreb, duke alive. then: -- pin it all on the duke -- don't pin. can't prove, don't arrest. duke stays in, releases your people Flow 3 - you tried to kill duke, you know he's a mage - it was the duke -- don't pin. can prove, but stability is better The "Shit," Mackenzie says into the ensuing silence. "You're the mage." The duke fixes her with a glare to melt sand. "I defended myself." But Mackenzie shakes her head. "I've seen other portals. That one was too big for one mage - I told the ambassador, right at the start. You've been

The duke looks her in the eye. "So what?" He asks. "I am the duke of Nverre. Not even the Council of Interests could stop me, not after tonight. Who are you to try? Who are you to judge me, when I've already won?" He looks between you, each set of eyes in turn, and you feel your voice go dry in your throat. But Mackenzie is ready for him. "The queen of $mycolor," she says. [[Continue->DukeGoesDown2]]

And that's ok! Tehe duke of Zterre has an agenda. Constrained by his council of advisors - Havek - industrialist, very competent, is he in on it? Maybe. Don't just tell - show. Countess says Duke is an asshole, liar and a problem. She will kill him if you give her a pike (somewhere in rescuing mystics, portal, mage, fight). Havek will let himself out through the exit and close it behind him. He's in on it. Who's in on it? - Havek (prove by he had a key, and locked the door behind him) - Zyxos the mage (obviously) - The duke (prove he's a mage too, by trying to kill him) "Guilt," Mackenzie repeats. "What do you mean?" "The duke was in on it." "And Zyxos?" "I had to kill him. "He killed Zagrab. "He was responsible." Mackenzie purses her lips into a frown. "One mage that no one's ever heard of," she says. "It doesn't hold up." "Meaning?" "Motive," Mackenzie clarifies. "Killing "Did he have help?" Mackenzie poses the question. " "There was another mage, near the portal." Tarissa suggests. "You killed him." Mackenzie replies. Tarissa shrugs. "Yes." "And the portal stayed open," Mackenzie shakes her head. "No. It must have bee"He fled." And the Duke of Zterre walks out of the room without another word. Proof, Mackenzie snorts. "What proof? I'll say one thing for that bastard, he knows how to cover his tracks." "Ninety-seven," the healer says matter-of-factly. "And some thirty summoned creatures." "I did," Mackenzie says lightly. " "I have no idea." "A lot." "$golemskilled golems, $skeletonskilled skeletons, and $nightwolveskilled nightwolves," Mackenzie says cheerfully.

The Duke of Zterre is quick as a cat. You sense more than see the flicker of gold in his fist. His blade flicks through flesh like a sickle through a blade of grass. Red blood spurts high from the fallen mage's neck. It spatters your clothes from shoulder to hip. Shock holds you senseless as the duke makes the knife disappear behind his back. And your allies press into the room, their voices tumbling over each other... [[Talk->PostFinalFightOnlyDuke]]  (set: $Duke's killedmage to true)

The duke reacts in only the last moment - his hands come up, and it's not a weapon but a glowing ball of light that fills his fist. Your $myweapon plunges into his upraised arm and a strange sensation runs through the hilt - as though you are plunging your thumb into butter. You watch with startled eyes as your (print: $myweapon's type) sinks deeper and deeper into the duke's glowing hand. But it doesn't pierce him. The duke blinks. His mouth twists with effort. His ball of magic seems to grow - and then suddenly it vanishes, just as quickly as it appeared, as your allies stumble into the room. [[Talk->PostFinalFightTriedKillDuke]]  (set: $Duke's ismage to true)

"Well, fuck." Mackenzie is the first to speak, taking in the two dead bodies on the floor and the duke standing in the corner in one professional flick of the eyes, and zeroing in on you with a tableteer's instinct for a story. "Kelek's breath, ambassador. When you set out to do a thing." (if: $Havek's following)["The $mycolor ambassador," Havek notes, deadpan and without particular opinion behind it. His eyes are for the duke. "Senior. My condolences."](else-if: $Mev's following)["Shit, the ambassador." Mev says.](else:)["The ambassador?" she asks, a loaded question cast into the air."] "He died well," the duke says aloud, and you realize it's the first time you've actually heard his voice. It comes out boyish and glib. His eyes lock on yours, the weight of all that's happened rich between you. Something sticks in your throat. [["Zagreb was in on it."->ZagrebWasIn]] [["He died defending me."->CoverForDeadZagreb]]

"I remember when Zyxos came," the countess says softly. "//He// didn't hesitate. He didn't send Zyxos away. These ideas - trade, imprisoning traders, provoking a crisis - these were //his//." It's clear she means the duke. It's also clear she hates his guts. "Zyxos was simply a mercenary," she continues. "He only told the duke it could be done. And how to do it." You look at the duke, but he remains silent. A confident half-smile remains on his face. "He's been planning this night for months. The spellwork, the //ignaz// stockpile...there are receipts, going back months." The countess lets out a shallow breath. "I knew he was planning something," she finishes, "but I failed to put it together. Not until the great portal opened tonight, and I saw the doors slam closed. But then it was too late." [["You have receipts?"->CountessHaveReceipts]] (if: $dukestory)[[["And the summoned creatures?"->AskCountessSawSummoned]]](else:)[[["Duke?"->DukeStory]]] [["I believe you."->BelieveCountess]]

You shift on your feet. "He held me under threat of death, death by one of the very creatures he summoned tonight," the duke continues. "A monster has slept in my rooms every day for the past half a year. It was his orders that set this night in motion - and his workings that brought so much death into these rooms." The duke shakes his head. "His power was terrible. It was not just I who was under threat - my family, those closest to me - they were also threatened. I could not act. He used his spells to see and hear everything I did." [["How did he get so close?"->HowClose]] [["What about the $mycolor merchants?"->GetMerchants]]

Leaping forward you try for the duke's heart - but his spell explodes in front of you, a blinding flash of light and sudden heat and just as quickly, quenching cold... you //feel// instead of see his magic scatter, deflected and reflected in a cacophy of light...you push forward and it's as easy as swimming up a spring-flooded river, you can barely see through the terrible bright flame that's just four steps ahead of you. Then three. Then two. Then one. You punch with all your strength. Heat builds over your fist, as though you've shoved your fingers into slow-roasting coals, and your glove is nowhere near thick enough. Spell-magic flows over your outstretched arm like a living summons itself. And the duke's light goes suddenly out, like a fire under sand. [[Blink->DukeMageKillAll]]

The duke looks her in the eye. "So what?" He asks. "I am the duke of Nverre. Not even the Council of Interests could stop me, not after tonight. Who are you to try? Who are you to judge me, when I've already won?" He looks between you, each set of eyes in turn, and you feel your voice go dry in your throat. The duke steps off the wall. He walks with the slow and measured gate of a man who knows you will not stop him. He passes you by with little more than a last uncompromising glance. [[Stop him->TryStopDuke]]

You step in front of the duke, and he gives you the levellest, most unflinching stare you've receieved in a night spent staring at courtiers. His shoulders are square, and his white shirt is the only clean bit of clothing in the room. A faint smile tilts at the corners of his mouth. "Ambassador," the duke says calmly, and there is import to his words - threat, condescension, and pulse-pounding arrogance all rolled into one. "You have //everything// to lose." The air in the tiny room turns as cold as a chilled Negrevi drink. You take a deep breath. (if: $Duke's ismage)[[["I know you're a mage."->AccuseDukeAsMage]]] [["You're not going anywhere."->StopHim]] [[Let him go->DontStopDuke]]

"Am I?" The duke asks you smoothly. "The portal closed when you killed him. The summons were banished when you killed him. That ties both to Zyxos, yes?" He lets the silence emphasize his argument. (if: $Duke's killedmage)[[["//You// killed Zyxos."->AccuseDukeKillingZyxos]]] [["You were giving him orders."->AccuseDukeGivingOrders]] (if: $Duke's ismage)[[["But //you're// a mage too."->AccuseDukeAsMage]]]

The duke inclines his head to you. Another moment passes. And then he begins, in a voice that is both fluid and persuasive and needling all at once: "The mage Zyxos first came to my court last year. He had a vision for the dukedom, he said. It was a vision I disagreed with. I dismissed him, and thought little of it." "He summoned a creature of the like you saw tonight. It appeared in my private study that very same night. Zyxos reappeared, and with his creature he laid out his demands. In fear of my life, and the lives of those closest to me," the duke manages a sympathetic look, "I acquiesced." The duke takes a breath, as though steeling himself. "He held me under threat of death, death by one of his many creatures," the duke continues. "A monster has slept in my rooms every day for the past half a year. It was his orders that set this night in motion - and his workings that brought so much death into these rooms." The duke shakes his head. "His power was terrible. It was not just I who was under threat - my family, those closest to me - they were also threatened. I could not act. He used his spells to see and hear everything I did." [["How did he get so close?"->HowClose]] [["What about the $mycolor merchants?"->GetMerchants]]

"So," the duke begins. "The mage Zyxos first came to my court last year. He had a vision for the dukedom, he said. It was a vision I disagreed with. I dismissed him, and thought little of it." "He summoned a creature of the like you saw tonight. It appeared in my private study that very same night. Zyxos reappeared, and with his creature he laid out his demands. In fear of my life, and the lives of those closest to me," the duke manages a sympathetic look, "I acquiesced." The duke takes a breath, as though steeling himself. "He held me under threat of death, death by one of his many creatures," the duke continues. "A monster has slept in my rooms every day for the past half a year. It was his orders that set this night in motion - and his workings that brought so much death into these rooms." The duke shakes his head. "His power was terrible. It was not just I who was under threat - my family, those closest to me - they were also threatened. I could not act. He used his spells to see and hear everything I did." [["How did he get so close?"->HowClose]] [["What about the $mycolor merchants?"->GetMerchants]]

"No, I wasn't." The duke says simply. "And you were witness. When you burst in - quite by surprise - was I in command? Was Zyxos giving heed to anyone but himself?" Annoyed, you examine your memory. What //had// the duke actually said? Or ordered? [["You stood back and watched."->DukeOnlyWatched]] [[Stay silent->DukeStory2B]]

"Yes," the duke admits, "and I will tell you why." The silence drips by slowly. [["Fine."->DukeStory2B]] [[Stay silent->DukeStory2B]]

"//How//", Mackenzie asks in disbelief. [["The portal went out when I killed the mage."->SDPortalOut]] [["The portal went out when he killed the mage."->SDPortalOutAlt]] [["Guilty until proven innocent."->SDProofBurden]]

The duke spreads his hands, the picture of innocence. "If he leaves," Mackenzie warns, "there will be no coming back." "He is better alive, and in place," Havek suggests. "An ally, you can rely on." Mev grunts and appears to struggle for words. "Kill him," the countess says quietly, but unmistakably. "Or he will kill you all, for this very moment. You //must// kill him here, before his guards come. Kill him now, before he decides to run." At her words, the duke's expression shifts, thought he catches it quickly -like a creature of the night, with fangs for ripping flesh - that is how he looks at the Countess. [[Kill him->TryKillDukeWithGroup]] [["He's guilty."->DontCoverDuke]] [["If he's not guilty, he's innocent."->PronounceDukeInnocent]]

"I do," the countess says seriously, and from the look in her eyes you believe her. (if: $dukestory)[[["And the summoned creatures?"->AskCountessSawSummoned]]] (else:)[[["Duke?"->DukeStory]]] [["I believe you."->BelieveCountess]]

"I saw none before tonight," the countess says damningly. "And I would have seen one. If lingered as close as he says." You watch the duke's eyes narrow. (if: $dukestory is false)[[["Duke?"->DukeStory]]] [["It seems clear to me."->PickStoryOutcome]]

The countess smiles quietly. "Then your course is clear." (if: not $dukestory)[[["Let's hear the Duke's side."->DukeStory]]] [["It seems clear to me."->PickStoryOutcome]]

"Ambassador," the duke says, part challenge, part coy, part deadly threat. It's plain from his eyes he means deadly business. "You know what I think," Mackenzie says. (if: $Mev's following)[Mev frowns, silent. ] (if: $Mystics's following)["The goddess takes no sides," Tarissa pronounces. ] (if: $Countess's following)["Do not underestimate him," the Countess commands. ] [["The duke is responsible."->AccuseDuke]] [["We can't prove anything."->LetDukeOff]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

The duke looks you in the eye. "I see," he says calmly. And then - "So what?" He asks, and it is a different voice that returns. An arrogant voice, with no humility in sight. "I am the duke of Zterre," the voice proclaims. "Not even the Council of Interests could stop me, not after tonight. Who are you to try? Who are you to judge me, when I've already won?" He looks between you, each set of eyes in turn, and you feel your voice go dry in your throat. The duke steps off the wall. He walks with the slow and measured gate of a man who knows you will not stop him. He passes you by with little more than a last uncompromising glance. [[Stop him->TryStopDuke]] [[Let him go->DontStopDuke]]

The duke nods once. Perhaps in gratitude, perhaps simply in shared acknowledgement. but it doesn't much look like it. looks more to you like the nod of acknowledgement, a shared path to an expected outcome. I. It reminds you of a nod that Zagreb"No hard feelings," the duke says lightly, and before Mackenzie can do more than gasp, before the Countess can do more than tighten her already tense lips; before Tarissa can no more than rock back on her heel, and Havek can do more than nod - before all of that, the duke walks through the open door, an

"Asshole," the woman gasps, picking herself up. To say that her gown isn't built for running is the understatement of the night. She eyes you and your allies with the naked judgement only drunk nobility can manage. [["You're welcome."->SavedPeevish2Alt]] (set: $Peevish's saved to true) (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

"For what?" She snaps, adjusting a strap and straightening her dress over her breasts. "From that single apparition? There are hundreds more. Where are the soldiers? Where are the duke's private guards?" You focus on (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"a spot over her shoulder","her face","the fallen skeleton"). [["I don't know."->SavedPeevish3]]

"Find out, would you?" She finishes her adjustements, and looks around at the room at large. Her eyes widen rather comically. She shakes her head as though to change the view she sees. [["Come with us."->PeevishComeWith]] [["You should hide.->PeevishHide]] (if: $exitopen)[[["There's an exit - that way."->PeevishToExit]]]

"With you?" She laughs at the ridiculousness of it. "And //fight?// Oh, no. Let Herac and his type do the fighting. The guards will be here soon. I simply need to...stay out of the way for a bit." [["So hide."->PeevishHide2]]

"What, beneath a table?" She looks back at the table. "I think not. The soldiers will be here soon. I think I'll simply wait for them." A skeleton rattles after a fleeing partier to your left. "Gods, they're everywhere," the woman observes. [["So hide."->PeevishHide2]]

"Is there really?" the woman asks, peering where you point. "It's a rather long way." A skeleton clatters rather too close for comfort, charging after some unseen target. Whatever magic guides it doesn't seem to notice you. "Gods, they're everywhere," the woman says. "I don't think the palace guard will get here in time." [["Probably not."->PeevishToExit2]]

"You mean, 'Be a little less visible'," the partier reframes it. "And I suppose you're right. The soldiers really //should// get in here soon." She shrugs, an exaggerated motion in rejection of the obvious danger. "Go away. I'm sure you have other people to save, or more monsters to kill, or something." [["Obviously."->RudeHide]] [["Actually, yes."->PoliteHide]]

"No need to be rude about it," the woman says peevishly. She ducks under the same table you just fought a skeleton over, pulling up the long pink tablescloth and tucking herself childishly inside. Holding the tablecloth up, she makes one last request. "If you're really going around saving people - if you see Hercle or Tadri, would you save them, too, please? Tell them it's from Milena." [["I'll try."->TrySaveForPeevish]] [["I have //so// many better things to do."->MessWithPeevish]]

"I suppose that's good," the woman says, as though trying to convince herself. She ducks under the same table you just fought a skeleton over, pulling up the long pink tablescloth and tucking herself childishly inside. Holding the tablecloth up, she makes one last request. "If you're really going around saving people - if you see Hercle or Tadri, would you save them, too, please? Tell them it's from Milena." [["I'll try."->TrySaveForPeevish]] [["I have //so// many better things to do."->MessWithPeevish]]

"Good." She nods once to herself, satisfied of her good deed of the day, and lets the tablecloth fall. You're left staring at a well-stocked table for a moment. (if: $Mackenzie's following)["Time to go," Mackenzie says drily.] [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

"They aren't fighters either," Milena says, and with that she lets the tablecloth fall. You're left staring at an empty, lonely table. (if: $Mackenzie's following)["Time to go," Mackenzie says neutrally.] [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

"I'm leaving," she decides. She fixes you with a look, faces you with her shoulders back, and you abruptly fix your eyes back to $myatt. "If you really are saving people," she asks, "if you see a couple named Hercle and Tardri, would you please save them too? They're not really fighters either." [["Of course."->OfCourseSaveToExit]] [["I can't promise."->CPP2]] [["Fuck no."->FNP2]]

"Thank you," she says, and her eyes give meaning to the words. And then she turns and starts to run - as fast as she can in a dress that trails to her ankles - and you watch her back as she crosses the open floor towards the alcove. (if: $Mackenzie's following)["Time to go," Mackenzie says mildly.] [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $Peevish's saved to true)

"I wouldn't expect you to," she says with a tilt of her nose that masks a real fear. Before you can answer - and you try - she strides rapidly away. Her path takes her across the open floor and not //too// close to any rambling monsters. (if: $Mackenzie's following)["Time to go," Mackenzie says mildly.] [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $Peevish's saved to true)

She eyes you for a moment, then shakes her head. "Fine. But they've done nothing to you," she says. And she strides away before you can answer, walking confidently across the open floor in spite of the stream of monsters attacking everything that moves. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $Peevish's saved to false)

With a lurch you move to intercept them, holding you $myweapon in front of you as you charge between high tables. The woman sees you coming and turns //away// in fear, slamming into a table as she does so, and tumbling in a mess of fabric and glassware. The giant skeleton rattles to a stop and turns to face you. It's giant gilded axe is as long as you are tall! [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedPeevish") (set: $monster to "giant skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $giantgildedaxe) (set: $fightth to 4) (set: $Peevish's talked to true)

Your breath comes hot through your throat as you force yourself to look around the room. Skeletons rattle in trios and pairs. Strange, wolflike creatures stalk individual partiers. A single large golem lumbers with ground-shaking steps. And partiers flee and fight back in equal measure, their cries of fear and rage rising all around you. { (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[A weapon glitters on the floor nearby: the $monster's (print: $droppedweapondm's label). [[Pick it up->PickUpWeapon]] ] You see the countess, surrounded by guards, but stalked by a triplet of wolf-creatures. [[Help the countess->HelpCountess]] A man in a rigid night jacket dodges a skeleton around a round table. He's holding his own, but only for the moment: he doesn't have a weapon, nor does he look like a fighter. [[Help him!->HelpAngry]] A handsome partier stumbles as he dodges the spear of a looming nightwolf! [[Defend him!->DefendHandsome]] (set: $lookaround to "LookAroundR3") }

Your breath comes hot through your throat as you finally have time to look around. Chaos - little knots of fighting, shambling skeletons everywhere, partiers in small groups fighting with whatever weapons they have. { Mackenzie dodges around a banquet table, harried by a pair of clattering skeletons. She clutches what looks like a broken-off table leg in both hands. [[Help Mackenzie!->HelpJournalist]] (set: $lookaround to "LookAroundR2") }

You look around with your lungs in your throat. Creatures lumber in small packs across the floor; most of the surviving partiers have pulled into small groups for survival. A few scattered soldiers are holding their own. (if: $turns > 7 and $turns < 14 and not $Mystics's tried)[A small group of white-robed mystics stand barricaded behind a pair of tables. (if: $turns > 11)[Only three remain standing, and they're surroundd by skeletons.](else:)[As you watch, a burst like sunlit fire shoots out, decapitating a skeleton.] [[Help them!->HelpMystics]] ]

The duke watches you levelly, as though trying to stare you down. You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"stare right back","wink","make a coarse gesture","look to your allies"). Mackenzie huffs (to herself, at your standaoff) and steps from behind you to look more closely at Zyxos. She straightens after a pensive moment. (if: $Mev's following)["Well?" Mev asks.](else:)[You catch her eye.] "Throat's cut," Mackenzie says. "Knife, from the side." (if: $Mev's following)["No (print: $myweapondm's type) did that," Mev says. "Not a chance." Mackenzie agrees.](else-if: $Havek's following)["The ambassador could have a knife," Havek allows. Mackenzie snorts. "And he'd use that instead of that (print: $myweapon's label)?" She shakes her head.] You almost feel sorry for the duke. But he only shrugs. "Yes," he admits, "I killed Zyxos. And I will tell you why." [["Fine."->DukeStory2B]] [[Stay silent->DukeStory2B]]

"Lies," the duke says easily, but Mackenzie sucks in a breath behind you and and says in single harsh clarity: "//Motherfucker//." And the duke's eyes flick to her with the alert reaction of a creature caught in the act. (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa shifts beside you, some awareness channeling through her fingers as they touch the pendant on her chest. You watch the duke's eyes shift to her and his calculation change. His placid expression disappears into a mask of malice and hate. ] "That's it," Mackenzie says with a tone of revelation. "That's how you did it. I //knew// that portal was too big." (if: $Mystics's following)["It's true," Tarissa pronounces. ] The duke curses a curse worse than any you've heard tonight. A wall of shining silver flares suddenly over the only door into the room. "You cannot stop me," the duke snarls, and his fingers are suddenly dripping with light - bright white, whiter than the magic from the mystics' crystals; bright enough to cast the entire room sharply into light and shadow - and he continues, "And none of you leave this room." [[Fight!->BlinkDukeMageKill]]

Magic snuffs off your shoulders like a candle blown out by the wind, and in the sudden dark and cold you see the duke's body fall. His neck his limp, his eyes open and staring. A look of surprise still lingers on his face. Cold silence greets you. You turn, a terrible fear spiking your spine worse than any skeleton's axe. The room is empty. No long table, heaped with wine and food. No hanging tapestry, masking the door. No fallen bodies of Zagrab and Zyxos. No blood on the floor. And none of your allies, either. (if: $Mystics's following is not true)[[["Fuck!"->AlliesTotallyDead]]](else:)[[["Really?"->AlliesActuallyNotDead]] [["Fuck!"->AlliesActuallyNotDead]]] (set: $Duke's ending to "killed")

Your pulse pounds heavily in the your throat. Crashing awareness throws your thoughts into total disarray. And with a //pop//, three figures snap back to the room. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie] (if: $Countess's following)[Countess] (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa] (if: $Mev's following)[Mev] [["What just happened??"->AAND15]] [["Where did you go?!"->AAND2]]

"Elsewhere," Tarissa says maddeningly. "It seemed wise." She slips past your staring gaze and crouches, bent-kneed, before the duke. "That much magic is too much for one mage," she semi-explains. She pulls the duke's collar open, then rips his shirt from the collar until it passes his elbows. She nods to herself at a glint of gold on his upper-left arm. "Stand back," she commands without turning her head. With one hand she holds her own pendant, while with the other she unclasps the duke's bracer and pinches it in two fingers. No light flashes through the room; no sparks or smoke or any show of magic at all. "Hm," Tarissa says. [["What is that?"->DukesArtefact]]

"What is that?" Mackenzie snaps at the same time, and you share a glance of mutual indignation. "Something best not left in the hands of simple men," Tarissa replies opaquely. She stands. The bronze loop in her fingers shines with rather evil light, or so you like to think. You're so high on crashing adrenaline you're not sure you could put ten words together. Mackenzie narrows her eyes, but doesn't say anything. (if: $Countess's following)["It's done," the Countess says quietly. Her eyes are glittering, but not with sadness, and they rest only on the fallen duke.](else-if: $Mev's following)["I think we're done here," Mev says.] [[Leave->PostOutDeadDuke]]

(if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie cracks her neck and looks around. "Yeah, I'd like to know too." ] (if: $Mev's following)["Damn." Mev says." ] Tarissa tucks her crystal calmly back into her robe. "He was a mage," she says, as though that explains everything. [["Where did you go?!"->AAND2]]

It is a silent group that passes back out through the narrow door. You stop in a few steps, in the center of a ring of bones and clay and fur and blood. Perhaps a dozen summoned creatures lie dead and in pieces in that ring. A large and shapeless golem lies face-down as though struck from behind with a club. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie gives you a smirk. "Thought we were pushovers, did you?" ] (if: $Mev's following)["We made it," says Mev with satisfaction that can't quite hide his own amazement. ] (if: $Mystics's following)["Creatures of smoke and ash," says Tarissa, as though that explains it. ] (if: $Havek's following)[Havek says nothing. ] [["I'm impressed."->POWD2]]

The duke looks her in the eye. "I see," he says calmly. And then - "So what?" He asks, and it is a different voice that returns. An arrogant voice, with no humility in sight. "I am the duke of Zterre," the voice proclaims. "Not even the Council of Interests could stop me, not after tonight. Who are you to try? Who are you to judge me, when I've already won?" He looks between you, each set of eyes in turn, and you feel your voice go dry in your throat. The duke steps off the wall. He walks with the slow and measured gate of a man who knows you will not stop him. He passes you over little more than a last uncompromising glance. [[Stop him->TryStopDuke]] [[Let him go->DontStopDuke]]

The duke sighs. A pulse of frozen air drops through your chest and out the other side. Mackenzie cries out a curse as the only door to the room is suddenly covered by magical shimmering silver. "You cannot stop me," the duke repeats, and his fingers are suddenly dripping with light - bright white, whiter than the magic from the mystics' crystals; bright enough to cast the entire room sharply into light and shadow - and he continues, "And now, none of you leave this room." [[Fight!->BlinkDukeMageKill]]

You have no warning. A glitter of gold and a waft of divine intention. The (print: $Countess's weapon) strikes hard and true and sinks deeply into the duke's chest. He lets out a cough. His eyes are locked on his killer. Something passes between them, more than words or guts or intuition could ever share. His soul passes through his open lips in a single rattling breath. The Countess of Zterre pulls her weapon out of the duke's chest with a determined yank. Her own breath shudders through her chest. No one speaks. [[Continue->CountessKilledDuke2]] (set: $Duke's ending to "killed") (set: $Countess's killedduke to true)

From beyond the narrow room come the voices of the few survivors. Consoling each other. Looking for the missing, and the wounded. Starting to question. Mackenzie laughs, and it's gallows humor, cynical and bitter. The Countess meets your eyes. No words pass her painted lips. She passes you in six strides, bloody (print: $Countess's weapon) held ready in one hand, and the silence that follows her is the unsteady beat before a dancer's next song. [[Continue->CountessKilledDuke3]]

"//Well,//" Mackenzie says, after a moment. "That's a story, isn't it." "She'll kill you if you do," Mev warns. Mackenzie laughs again. Her voice is strained as she says, "Oh, no she won't. She //wants// this story to get out." [["What?"->CKD4]]

The duke of Zterre passes you by with little more than a last uncompromising glance. He pauses at the door. "The $mycolor merchants will be released in the morning," he tells you. "I trust you'll convey them safely to your queen." And then he leaves. [[Breathe out->DukeWalkedFree]]

"Well that's that," Mackenzie says in a voice that's studiously neutral. She avoids your eyes and looks rather too-blatantly around the narrow room. (if: $Mev's following)["Good call," Mev mutters, straightening his shoulders now that the Duke has left the room. ] (if: $Havek's following)[Havek nods, just once, as though he's already plotting for the next event. ] (if: $Countess's following)[The countess strides out of the room without a word. ] (if: $Mystics's following)["Interesting," Tarissa says. "I confess I did not expect to survive that." [["What do you mean?"->MysticsPostExplanation]]](else:)[[["What happened outside?"->PostOutDukeWalkedPre]]]

Tarissa watches the duke's last echo pensively. "There is too much magic in this room," she explains. "Now there is less. We will have trouble, later." Mackenzie stares at her for a moment. "Meaning what?" she demands narrowly. (if: $Countess's following and not $Countess's killedduke)["He is even more powerful," the Countess provides quietly. "Tonight he eliminated most of his rivals, and drew out and weakened the others."] Tarissa pauses, as though decideding whether to share. "We threaten him," She says aloud. "And now he knows it. His mage is dead, but the power that was in this room is not gone. He will threaten us, and any others who stand against him." [["What can we do?"->WhatDoDukeThreat]]

You look around, checking the corners. There's movement in the tables, partiers picking their way out of hiding places like flowers out of snow. There are shocked expressions on their faces. You recognize a couple, a warmth flows through your heart and you find you can swallow again. The soldier captain makes his way to you after perhaps a minute. You see Havek disappearing through the open doors, directly into what looks like a night full of stars. "Ambassador," the captain says formally. "You killed the mage." [["...Yes"->YepKilledMage]]]

"That's good." The soldier lets out a heavy breath. "Then the threat is over, and I can put my people on rescueing the survivors. Goddess's breath, but I didn't think it would be so easy." "Easy!?" Mackenzie demands. The soldier winces. "Sorry," he says. "No offense. But you've spared my team a fight they probably weren't going to win." [["Where were you?"->WhereWereSoldiers]] [["What now?"->WhatNowSoldier]]

"The duke wants us to help any survivors. Save anyone we can. The healers are getting extra beds ready(if: $Mystics's following)[ - and he's requisitioning the mystics," the soldier says, with a glance at Tarissa, who responds with intimidating silence. ](else:)[. ]"If you can walk, get yourself to the hospital quarters - fourth floor, east wing. If you don't need that, my recommendation's find a way to relax." (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Mackenzie lets out a huff of disbelief.](else:)[You let out your breath in a heavy //whuff//.] "I know. Perhaps a walk on the outer wall," the soldier suggests, as though he's made this suggestion a million times before. "By your leave," he continues, without bowing, and without much room for argument. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[[["Sure."->WhatNow2]]][[["Sure."->WhatNowSolo]]]  (set: $posts to (a:)) (if: $Countess's saved)[(if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[(set: $posts to it + (a: "PostCountessFled"))](else:)[(set: $posts to it +(a: "PostCountessDukeDead"))]] (if: $Havek's betrayed)[(set: $posts to it + (a: "PostHavekBetrayed"))] (if: $Mystics's saved)[(set: $posts to it + (a: "PostWithMystics"))] (set: $posts to it +(a: "StartPostMerchantsOut")) (if: $Mev's saved)[(set: $posts to it + (a: "StartPostMevConspiracy"))] (if: $Mackenzie's saved)[(if: $Duke's ending is "dead")[(set: $posts to it + (a: "StartPostMackenzie"))](else:)[(set: $posts to it + (a: "MackenziePostDukeInPower"]] (if: $Pretty's saved)[(set: $posts to it + (a: "StartPostPretty"))] (set: $postCounter to 0)

"Some kind of magic shield on the door. We tried everything we could." The soldier sounds defensive, but you're inclined to forgive him - having just fought your way past mages youreslf. The first stretcher leaves the room with a wounded partier. Soldiers work efficiently in teams of three or four, spreading like a salve across the room. [["What now?"->WhatNowSoldier]]

"What about you?" Mackenzie asks. "What will you do now?" You try to pull yourself together. Emotion and alcohol and adrenaline course through your veins like the world's finest cocktail. As your eyes drift over the room - soldiers helping partiers, warm night air rolling over the maelstrom of violence and terror, the rest of the night seems to pass in a series of blinks... (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Trust in the goddess," Tarissa says maddenly. And with that, she walks out of the room. Her steps are near silent on the wooden, bloodstained floor. [[Follow her->PostOutDukeWalked]]

"Let's find out," Mackenzie says grimly. [[Leave the room.->PostOutDukeWalked]]

The soldier nods once. You follow the duke's soldier down. Down stone steps, at first broad and well lit, softened by hanging tapestries, and then narrower and darker, until you come to a solid wooden door reinforced with a shield's weight in bronze. The soldier pulls a key from his pocket, and knocks three times before he puts it in the key-socket. It's rather an ordeal to get the actual cells open. There's chest-puffing, yelling and at one point, an actual waving of the (if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[the duke's](else-if: $Countess's following)[the Countess's] hand-signed and sigilled orders. But luckily you don't have to do any of it: the captain of soldiers cows the jailor back behind his desk, and in victory strides down into the cell-block to get the actual prisoners out. The $mycolor merchants come out slowly. They look all right, for the most part. Unshaven and dishevelled, eyes that are surprised and wary and blinking at the strange apparition in front of them. They're wearing whatever they were arrested in (mostly travelling clothes), and there's no sign of chains or other injury. You breathe a sigh of relief. It could have been much worse. The first of them comes up to you. Touches the $mycolor sigil on the corner of your jacket. Words seem to bubble in his throat without making it past his lips. You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"smile","wink","smile sadly","yawn"), and say: [["I'm the $mycolor Ambassador and I'm here to rescue you!"->SkywalkerOut]] [["It's over. You're released."->HoneyHome]] [["Let's go."->HoneyHome]] [[(Say nothing)->HoneyHome]]

"You're //who//?" Asks a woman with short black hair, and you get a few tired laughs. It's probably more than you deserve. The captain nods, and with lighter steps now you turn and lead your charges up the first set of stairs. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"You bet!" Says a woman with short black hair, and you get a few tired laughs. It's probably more than you deserve. The captain nods, and with lighter steps now you turn and lead your charges up the first set of stairs. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"Morek! I'm comin' in. Got one guest - ambassador somethin' or other. Got orders let the $mycolor bastards out." "Fuckin late," says a voice on the other side of the door. "Fuckin' duke's orders, asshole," the duke's soldier says, and the wooden door swings open on solid, well-greased hinges. The jailor is an absolute tank of a man, buzz-headed and with peering eyes that cross quickly into leering. "Is that right?" he growls at your face.

"Ambassador." The soldier captain finds you again, his expression formal, a freshly-sealed scroll held firmly over his chest. "I have here the orders for your merchants' release." You straighten - an effort, but the cause is worth it. The world rolls slightly as you steady yourself on the wall. [["Is it real?"->RealAs]]

The captain nods once. "With me, then." You follow him along the wall to a square-sided tower, and through a propped-open door onto a stairway. The air is immediately ten degrees warmer and twenty more stifling. You're not sure you ever want to be so surrounded by stone again. Fresh torches burn steadily in shallow braces on the wall. "It's a long ways down," the captain says bracingly, noticing your discomfort. [["I'm good for it."->FreeMerchants]]

Mackenzie's post - is which of the two? First - you killed the duke, and so she says "Dude." "What?" "You're trying to write in a coffee shop. Yes?" "Maybe." "Why?" ? "Because I'm trying to heal something. To do without walls what I've built walls on forever. Not needing to start a conversation, just needing to stand at a table with no labels or no other structure; just needing to write - is this worth my time? Yes. Is writing coming up later? Yes. oK, potential stays. Sure. And she says... "What the fuck. Basically." "yEAH, THAT's my voice." "Right, right." She's changed. She leans against the rail and speaks a language you're not that interested in anymore. What if you just left it? If we discovered that we didn't need to fork it. That we had the agency to do exctly what we wanted to do - which was plan. The next, I suppose. Can we?

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"Real as anything tonight," the captain says, which is nowhere near as comforting as he thinks it is. "Best to do it quickly, though. The duke thought you might like to be there yourself." You blink at the implications, and a tangled emotion wells in your throat. [["Yes, I would."->MerchantsOut2]] [["No, I trust you."->SkipMerchants]]

"Understood," the captain says, which is comforting, in its own way. "I'll see it done tonight. You just stay up here." He turns and walks away. You watch him disappear into the nearest square-sided tower, a web of emotion in your throat. You're not sure whether sleep or alcohol would serve you better. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Yes," Tarissa replies, and nothing else. "The duke's arm brace?" "We are investigating," Amram says importantly. His gaze softens. "We're not sure where it came from, or how the duke mastered it. We've managed to match the relic to our records. It's been lost for over two hundred years." [["Relic"->Relic]] "Relic," Amram says firmly. "The sigils inside the band are unique, as are it's other...characteristics. It's power is such...well, it would make dukes into kings, and countesses to queens." His expression tells you to think through the implications. [["And now you have it." "As is our sacred charge," Amram says as though there's no more significance than that. "It will not be used," Tarissa add, with a glance at Amram that hints at judgment. "The goddess has no need of warlords and despots." You're tired. Too tired for the hundreds of candles flickering in a cultlike glow. Too tired for the darkened eyes of Amram and Tarissa not to look mystical and otherworldly in the extreme. [["What will you do? [["What will you do with it?" "Balance," Amram says cryptically. "The duke has seen the goddess's power," Tarissa adds. "Even on a night with all the cards in his favor, she intervened. He will not try again." A candle sputters and goes out. The air is warm enough to make you sweat. They stare at you calmly, waiting for the goddess knows what. [["Thank you." "No thanks is necessary," Amram says immediately. "On balance - " "The goddess protected you, not I." Tarissa cuts across Amram with a glance that says she knows she's doing it. "It is her we owe our thanks to." [["Of course." "She showed her favor tonight," Amram says with the confidence of a man who's still alive. "The night is long," replies Tarissa, and you sense the continuance of a debate that you're not part of. "You should ask your questions," Tarissa prompts, with what might be a hint of a slight smile on her lips. [["What are these candles?->AskCandles]] [["You could have stopped the mages yourself."->CouldveStoppedMages]] "No," Tarissa says. She doesn't elaborate. Amram watches you, expectant. [["Why not?" "Because the goddess's blessing must not - //can//not be used for violence," Amram explains. "It is in her very nature. The gift she brings the world." [["But you killed skeletons." "And golems, but they are not living creatures." Amram agrees. "Mages, and their living creatures, not so much." "A crystal will shatter," Tarissa adds, "before it kills or harms a living creature." You nod slowly. [["That's why you were so scared." Amram splutters. "We were not //scared//," he insists. "The summons were overwhelming." "And neither of us can fight with a (print: $myweapon's type)", Tarissa adds. "Mages die best with bronze." Her teeth shine in a slightly feral smile. [["So, we needed each other." "Precisely," Amram agrees. "It was no small chance she sent us you," Tarissa explains. "We did not u "She needed you "It is a great secret," Tarissa says finally. "Which would serve us badly, if widely known." Amram adds. "It was no small chance she sent us you," Tarissa continues. "We did not u "We light candles for those fallen," Amram says. You let your breath come evenly as you take in the candles again. There must be hundreds. "Two hundred and seven," Amram says, reading your mind, or perhaps your face. "Seventeen were saved," Tarissa adds. "Bless the goddess," says Amram. [[Curse loudly "The man who did it is dead," Tarissa says. "The goddess provided a champion. It is her blessing that gave us any survivors at all." "Ambassador, welcome." Amram greets you in a low-ceilinged, nook-filled chamber. The walls are sandstone, but painted - or perhaps scorched - in simmering patterns of black. Light comes not from torches but candles, dozens and dozens of them, mounted like theatergoers in rising decks along the walls. Tarissa appears from around a candle-lit corner. Her long hair is down, and strands of it run in front of her shoulders. Both she and Amram have reapplied their mystical makeup, and their eyes are dark as the night outside, and rimmed with red. "You didn't have to come," Amram says, taking your hand and guiding you quite lightly into the space. "But you have questions," Tarissa provides mysticly. [["I wanted to say 'thanks'."->NoThanksGoddess]] There are candles framing the door, as well.

"Relic," Amram says firmly. "The sigils inside the band are unique, as are it's other...characteristics. It's power is such...well, it would make dukes into kings, and countesses to queens." His expression tells you to think through the implications. [["And now you have it."->Relic2]]

"We light candles for those fallen," Amram says. You let your breath come evenly as you take in the candles again. There must be hundreds. "Two hundred and seven," Amram says, reading your mind, or perhaps your face. "Seventeen were saved," Tarissa adds. "Bless the goddess," says Amram. [[Curse loudly->Mystics2]]

"The man who did it is dead," Tarissa says. "The goddess provided a champion. It is her blessing that gave us any survivors at all."

"We are investigating," Amram says importantly. His gaze softens. "We're not sure where it came from, or how the duke mastered it. We've managed to match the relic to our records. It's been lost for over two hundred years." [["Relic"->Relic]]

"As is our sacred charge," Amram says as though there's no more significance than that. "It will not be used," Tarissa add, with a glance at Amram that hints at judgment. "The goddess has no need of warlords and despots." You're tired. Too tired for the hundreds of candles flickering in a cultlike glow. Too tired for the darkened eyes of Amram and Tarissa not to look mystical and otherworldly in the extreme. [["What will you do?->ProvideBalance]]

"Balance," Amram says cryptically. (if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[The duke has seen the goddess's power," Tarissa adds. "Even on a night with all the cards in his favor, she intervened. He will not try again."](else:)["The goddess requires it," Tarissa adds. "On a night with all the cards in his favor, the Duke still fell to a challenger. Our help provided balance."] A candle sputters and goes out. The air is warm enough to make you sweat. They stare at you calmly, waiting for the goddess knows what. (if: not $askedmysticsweak)[[["You could have stopped the mages yourself."->CouldveStoppedMages]]] [["I think I should go."->LeavePostMystics]] (set: $askedbracer to true)

"No thanks is necessary," Amram says immediately. "On balance - " "The goddess protected you, not I." Tarissa cuts across Amram with a glance that says she knows she's doing it. "It is her we owe our thanks to." You look around for a moment, taking in what's clearly a temple. You sense it might be larger than it first appears. And there are really a //lot// of candles. [["Why so many candles?"->AskCandlesAlt]]

"Will you light a candle?" Amram asks. [["I thought they were for the dead."->AskCandles]]

"Go with her blessing," Amram says one last time. And you make your way out of the candle-lit grotto. The night air feels wonderfully cool on your skin. And the stars feel somehow closer. Your head swims, and you're not sure you'll remember a thing about the grotto in the morning. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"There are others, for those who are still living." Amram says solemly. "To ask for the goddess's blessing," Tarissa provides, her tone giving no opinion on whether this is a good idea, or would be welcome. [["Ok, I'll light one."->AgreeLight]] [["No, I'll pass."->SkipLight]]

"Just here," Amram says. He leads you to a small table set in a niche in the wall; a scented wooden box holds narrow, yellow candles. You take one and follow him around a corner to a space with more sockets than lit candles, but not by much. "Just light from an existing," Amram says by instruction, and when you do he intones, "Goddess of blessing, bounty and beneficence," Amram begins, and you stand still for what's rather a //long// blessing. Finally Amram gestures, and you set your now-burning candle carefully in the next open space on an altar that could take thirty. "We'll see if that helps," Amram suggests, as though rolling dice in a bowl. "Perhaps it already did," Tarissa says in a mystical voice. [["I have a question."->MysticsQuestion2]] [[Leave->LeavePostMystics]]

"May the goddess protect you," Tarissa benedicts you anyway. "But I think you have questions," Amram adds, with a knowing look. [["You could have stopped the mages yourself."->CouldveStoppedMages]] [["What was special about the duke's bracer?"->AskDukesBracer]] [[Leave->LeavePostMystics]]

"Ambassador, welcome." Amram greets you in a low-ceilinged, nook-filled chamber. The walls are sandstone, but painted - or perhaps scorched - in simmering patterns of black. Light comes not from torches but candles, dozens and dozens of them, mounted like theatergoers in rising decks along the walls. Tarissa appears from around a candle-lit corner. Her long hair is down, and strands of it run in front of her shoulders. Both she and Amram have reapplied their mystical makeup, and their eyes are dark as the night outside, and rimmed with red. "You didn't have to come," Amram says, taking your hand and guiding you quite lightly into the space. "But you have questions," Tarissa provides mystically. [["I wanted to say 'thanks'."->NoThanksGoddess]]  (set: $askedbracer to false) (set: $askedmysticsweak to false)

"No," Tarissa says. She doesn't elaborate. Amram watches you, expectant. [["Why not?"->WhyNotStoppedMages]]

"She showed her favor tonight," Amram says with the confidence of a man who's still alive. "The night is long," replies Tarissa, and you sense the continuance of a debate that you're not part of. "You should ask your questions," Tarissa prompts, with what might be a hint of a slight smile on her lips. [["What are these candles?->AskCandles]] (if: not $askedmysticsweak)[[["You could have stopped the mages yourself."->CouldveStoppedMages]]]

"The man who did it is dead," Tarissa says. "The goddess provided a champion. It is her blessing that gave us any survivors at all." "Will you light a candle?" Amram asks. [["I thought they were for the dead."->AskCandles]]

"We know," Amram says confidently. "Ask," Tarissa prompts. [["You could have stopped the mages yourself."->CouldveStoppedMages]] [["What was special about the duke's bracer?"->AskDukesBracer]] [[Leave->LeavePostMystics]]

"Because the goddess's blessing must not - //can//not be used for violence," Amram explains. "It is in her very nature. The gift she brings the world." [["But you killed skeletons."->ButMystics]]

"And golems, but they are not living creatures." Amram agrees. "Mages, and their living creatures, not so much." "A crystal will shatter," Tarissa adds, "before it kills or harms a living creature." You nod slowly. [["That's why you were so scared."->MysticsScared]]

Amram splutters. "We were not //scared//," he insists. "The summons were overwhelming." "And neither of us can fight with a (print: $myweapondm's type)", Tarissa adds. "Mages die best with bronze." Her teeth shine in a slightly feral smile. [["So, we needed each other."->MagesToBronze]]

"Precisely," Amram agrees. "It was no small chance she sent us you," Tarissa explains. (if: not $askedbracer)[[["What was special about the duke's bracer?"->AskDukesBracer]]] [["That's all my questions."->AllMysticsQuestions]] (set: $askedmysticsweak to true)

"It is," Tarissa agrees cryptically. A candle goes out, for no reason you can see. The two mystics stand and watch you unblinkinly. [["I think I should go."->LeavePostMystics]]

You wave your sword-handle around uselessly. Pretty spectacular. The sudden light And in the sudden darkness...we Dozens and dozens of eyes turn almost as one. (set: $myweapondm's type to "broken") I mean, we never found the blonde mage. But we have enough blonde women in here, yes? //A rescue is As written, Mackenzie's rescue has 5 skeletons, with 2-3 turns each. so automatic 10-15. set seenyet to true on if (turns met), then add a "still" or (not seenyet) depending on the case. Then give me back the drop-in turns. So IF you pick well - based on your weapons, and the weapons of the monsters you'll be fighting, and based on getting allies (a little bit) - nope, not that - you can go in, one-shot the monster, save person, pick up new weapon (or assign new weapon), save the next person. Fast power scaling. If you correctly picked mace, (set: $t to 0) [[FightAThing That's clunky, isn't it? Pick up weapon, if not seen, then seen?. nO. Put seen modifiers in. Not dissappear, if seen just say "is still". Most of the fast ones only hang out for a turn or two anyway.)

(set: $R1str to "The room is in chaos - little knots of fighting, shambling skeletons everywhere, partiers in small groups fighting with whatever weapons they have.") (set: $R2str to "Skeletons rattle in trios and pairs. Strange, wolflike creatures stalk individual partiers. A single large golem lumbers with ground-shaking steps. And partiers flee and fight back in equal measure, their cries of fear and rage rising all around you.") (set: $R3str to "The air is thick with the cries of monsters and their victims, the ring of bronze on bronze, and the occasional searing cast of the mage in the middle of the room. Golems and nightwolves and skeletons charge through anything and everything, destroying tables and wine-racks and innocents alike.") (set: $R4str to "You look around with your lungs in your throat. Creatures lumber in small packs across the floor; most of the surviving partiers have pulled into small groups for survival. A few scattered soldiers are holding their own.")  (set: $idlepsgs to (a: "WaitTurnIdle", "WaitTurnSimple"))

"I don't know." The tableteer in her narrows her eyes. "That's a summoning portal, big one. Gods know what kind of hell-spawn they'll pull through." [["They closed the doors."->DoorsClosed]]

"And cat's to a camel they're locked by mage-work. Those doors are going to be stay locked." Mackenzie flinches as a skeleton rumbles past you both; it's eyes are intent on another partier. "Are we -" You eye the partier together. He's rather good looking; strong-jawed and tall. His hands are empty, and his feet aren't much faster than the skeleton's. His eyes flick to yours for just the barest moment. [["We're saving him."->SaveHandsome]] [["We can't save him."->MackenzieSkipHandsome]]

"You bet your ass," Mackenzie says with feeling. The handsome man sees you coming and curves his steps towards you. The skeleton rattles forward on awkward hips, heedless of the sudden overwhelming advantage. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $flatbladespear) (set: $fightth to 3) (set: $followpsg to "RescuedHandsomMackenzie")

Catching your breath, you catch Mackenzie's eye. She's grinning. Her chair-leg has a crack in it, and there's bone-dust in her dark hair. The handsome man takes a good long look at the skeleton. He shakes his head in complete denial. His eyes flick over yours with distraction to the point of madness. "I can't stay here," he says quite clearly. [["The doors are locked."->DoorsLocked]] (set: $Handsome's saved to true)

Several breaths pass. You're breathing hard, and fast. Abruptly she reaches up to the back of her head. She pulls her hair out of its twist with a single clawing motion, and her dark hair tumbles down over her shoulders. She shrugs out of her high-collared jacket and tosses it onto the nearest table. Catching your eye, she smirks a knowing smile. "I'm with you," she says confidently. [["Follow me."->JournalistJoins]] [["We need to save everyone."->Cant]] (set: $followpsg to "LookAround")

Amram shrugs expressively. "If he had a key, he probably used it." Mackenzie says darkly. "No." Amram says firmly. "This is the only way not blocked by magic. He will come here, if he can." "We can't wait," Mackenzie replies. [["Where is the duke?"->SecretExit2]]

You look around in sudden fear - but the room remains in chaos. Tangles of living bones harass and chase and slice at partiers. Clay golems smash through tables and corners and courageous, badly-armed innocents. Nightwolves dart and hunt and kill among the wreckage. The monsters are still here. "Shit," Mackenzie says beside you. (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa raises an eyebrow. [["The monsters are still here."->MonstersNotGone]]] [["My (print: $myweapondm's type)!"->MeltedWeapon]]  (set: $askedmonsters to false) (set: $askedmeltedweapon to false)

"Of course," Tarissa replies. "They are summoned by the mage. Only he - or she - can release them." (if: $Mev's following)["Would've been nice to know," Mev growls, watching the flood around you.](else:)["You didn't think that was worth mentioning?" Mackenzie asks testily.] "You know now." "So where is this mage?" Mackenzie asks. Her eyes are glaring, and her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) swings loose in her hand. "We don't know," Tarissa replies. [["What?"->PPK3]]

Mackenzie shakes her head. "Not a chance," she says. "The duke's personal guard, maybe. But they'll be with the duke." (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["The spymaster."->HavekKnowsRoom]]] [["The Countess?"->CountessKnowsRoom]]

"Odds off he won't tell us," Mackenzie says. "But a good a bet as any." She shifts on her feet, ready to move. (if: $askedmeltedweapon is not true)[[["What about my (print: $myweapondm's type)?->MeltedWeapon]]](else:)[[["Let's find Havek."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] [["How about the soldiers?"->SoldiersKnowRoom]] [["What about the countess?"->CountessKnowsRoom]] (set: $askedmonsters to true)

Mackenzie tilts her head. "Huh," she says. "Not a bad idea." (if: $Mev's following)["She was here when this all started," Mev adds. "Not in some spy-room."] (if: $Mystics's following)[Tarissa says nothing.] (if: $askedmeltedweapon is not true)[[["What about my (print: $myweapondm's type)?->MeltedWeapon]]](else:)[[["Let's find her."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] [["How about the soldiers?"->SoldiersKnowRoom]] (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["What about the spymaster?"->HavekKnowsRoom]]] (set: $askedmonsters to true)

"Agreed," says Mackenzie briskly. You peer across the room. Swords and spears and axes flash bright as they arc through the air. Monsters and partiers fight desperately in tiny groups; the few true soldiers scattered widely and fully overwhelemed. Spilled blood mixes bitterly with shattered wine and fallen figures. For a moment it's all you can do to breathe. (if: $Countess's following is not true)["There," Mackenzie pronounces, pointing out across the dance floor. The countess is easy to see: still wearing gold, and flanked by a single remaining guard, defended from behind by a tower of tables, chairs and bodies. A triplet of nightwolves prowls just outside their reach, intent on their chosen prey. [[Help the countess->HelpCountess]] ] (if: not $Havek's betrayed and $Mystics's following)["The spymaster," Tarissa pronounces, with a subtle gesture in the other direction. You can barely see him - faded into the shadow of an alcove, little more than a glint of face and a slight movement. But the nightwolves prowling just outside his reach give a rich clue someone is there. (if: $Havek's tried is not true)[[[Defend him!->DefendHavek]]](else:)[[[Help Havek!->ReturnToHavek]]]] [[Look around for others->LookAround]]  (set: $portalkilled to true)

"We don't know," Tarissa repeats. "Obviously, killing the mage would put a stop to all of this. But he isn't here. Otherwise we would have pointed you to him." "So, we're screwed," Mev completes. "The goddess wills it." Mackenzie blows a fat raspberry and shakes her head firmly. "No, we're not yet." She looks at you. [["You have an idea?"->PPK4]]

"He's hiding. Places like this always have hidden rooms - spy rooms, you know, for the duke to catch people talking about him behind his back." Mackenzie shrugs. "Good bet there's one of those rooms in here." [["I bet you're right."->PPK45]] [["Alright, where?"->PPK5]]

Mackenzie narrows her eyes, then shakes her head. "Could be anywhere. Have to find someone who knows." (if: $Mev's following)["If there's a secret spy-room," Mev says, "good chance anyone who knows about it is already inside."] You frown. [["The soldiers."->SoldiersKnowRoom]] (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["The spymaster."->HavekKnowsRoom]]] [["The countess?"->CountessKnowsRoom]]

(if: $Mev's following)["Where, though?" Mev asks. Mackenzie](else:)["Question is 'where'," Mackenzie continues. She] narrows her eyes, then shakes her head. "Could be anywhere. Have to find someone who knows." (if: $Mev's following)["If there's a secret spy-room," Mev says, "good chance anyone who knows about it is already inside."] You frown. [["The soldiers."->SoldiersKnowRoom]] (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["The spymaster."->HavekKnowsRoom]]] [["The countess?"->CountessKnowsRoom]]

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So then this one - always has Countess and Havek? Countess comes with IF you're going for the duke's room. You hit this if a) you went Mackenzie points portal - mystics - portal, and haven't talked to countess yet b) you went countess and not immediate duke, so back to countess --

"Fucked five ways from Sunday," Mackenzie replies. "How about you?" [["How do you mean?" "Oh, the usual," Mackenzie says. "Duke's still on top, and devil's to a demon he's going to come after us for stopping him. Whatever you think? "What will you do now? "

Tarissa spares it a glance. "Yes," she agrees. "Melted," Mackenzie pronounces. "Void-burned," Tarissa replies. "A price we all pay. Better a (print: $myweapondm's type) than a hand, yes?" You wave your useless weapon-handle slightly. It might, at close range, give a golem a nice shallow scratch. [["What do I do now?"->MeltedWeapon2]]

"Leave it," Mackenzie pronounces. "Find another." (if: $Mev's following)["You can have mine," Mev offers. [[Take Mev's (print: $Mev's weapon)->TakeMevWeapon]]] You glance around. The mage you killed lies weaponless nearby, but you can see the bones of another pair of skeletons - one with a short-handled axe, and another with a flat-bladed spear. [[Take the axe->TakeShortHandledAxe]] [[Take the spear->TakeFlatBladedSpear]]

Mev hands you his weapon without regret. He shrugs at the question in your face. "Never was much of a figher," he allows. (set: $myweapondm's type to "sword") (set: $myweapondm's label to "Mev's" + $Mev's weapon) (set: $myweapondm's bonusvs to "nightwolf") [["Thanks."->TakeMevWeapon2]]

You take a few quick steps, kicking away the scattered, brittle bones of the fallen skeleton. Its axe lies still clutched in bone fingers. There's blood that's not yet dry on the blade. It will have to do. [[Pick up the axe->TakeWeaponPostPortal2]] (set: $myweapondm's type to "axe") (set: $myweapondm's label to "short-handled axe") (set: $myweapondm's bonusvs to "nightwolf")

You take a few quick steps, kicking away the scattered, brittle bones of the fallen skeleton. Its spear lies abandoned nearby. There's a nick in the flattened point that looks as old as the bones. It will have to do. [[Pick up the spear->TakeWeaponPostPortal2]] (set: $myweapondm's type to "spear") (set: $myweapondm's label to "chipped spear") (set: $myweapondm's bonusvs to "golem")

"Don't mention it," Mev says. He shrugs uncomfortably as you give your new weapon an experimental swing. "We still have a problem," Mackenzie says, after watching you for a moment. You look up and read her face. She glances significantly at the room still filled with rampaging creatures. (if: $askedmonsters is not true)[(if: $Mystics's following)[[["The monsters are still here."->MonstersNotGone]]](else:)[[["Why aren't the monsters gone?"->MonstersStillHereAlt]]]](else:)[ (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["Time to find the spymaster."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] [["Time to find the countess."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] (set: $askedmeltedweapon to true)

Double-click this passage to edit it.

You give your new weapon an experimental swing. It feels alien, and oddly balanced in your hand. "We still have a problem," Mackenzie reminds you, after more than a few moments. You look up and read her face. She glances significantly at the room still filled with rampaging creatures, the smell and sight of bones and blood as loud as the strongest concerto. (if: $askedmonsters is not true)[(if: $Mystics's following)[[["The monsters are still here."->MonstersNotGone]]](else:)[[["Why aren't the monsters gone?"->MonstersStillHereAlt]]]](else:)[ (if: not $Havek's betrayed)[[["Time to find the spymaster."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] [["Time to find the countess."->LookAroundFromPortal]]] (set: $askedmeltedweapon to true)

"By the will of the goddess," Tarissa replies. "You have a better idea?" Mackenzie asks, impatient. [["Nope."->DCPM2]]

Mackenzie shrugs eloquently. You take a deep breath. A skeleton sees you and lurches your way, coming from your left, away from the portal. A wicked mace glints like a candle in its grip. "Run!" Mackenzie cries. [[Charge the portal!->AttackPortalSuccessTarissa]]

Without a further thought you charge. The skeleton patters far behind. Mackenzie's heavy footsteps fall behind you. You run a straight line, past golems and nightwolves and skeletons and terrified partiers, and in the last dozen steps the bald mage turns and sees you coming. He pivots instantly, his expression fierce, his eyebrows drawn in a mask of intelligence. His fingers are suddenly aglow. Tendrils of wriggling light flow from the tips of his nails, forming yarnlike balls of magic. There's one in each hand before he casts them. Steps pounding, you're not quite close enough. Your world flashes green - the magic splashes like rainwater against a window, splattering off an invisible shield a stride or so in front of you. Behind you, Tarissa gives a grunt, as though shoving off a great weight. You dare not look back as magic roils in front of your eyes, green and yellow in a stringy kaleioscope of death. "Keep going!" Tarissa's commands, as though you are an idiot, and you're jolted away from watching the yarn-light slither off the air and back into the material world. You take a step forward. The mage's startled look turns quickly into hate as he pulls his pale arms back to call down another spell- [[Charge!->ChargeMagePortal]]

"Yes, lets." Mackenzie agrees with feeling. (if: $Mev's following)["There's more every minute," Mev observes. ] [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

Without further thought, you launch yourself forward. Your shoes are totally terrible for sprinting. The hard wooden floor plays murder on your unsupported arches. You sprint with all your weight forward and the nightwolf still pulls ahead of you; you're chasing from behind and it's running dead the other direction. You'll never catch it in time - [[Shout a challenge->ShoutRescue]] [[Throw your $myweapon->ThrowRescue]] [[Give up->GiveUpArrogant]]

Your voice is half what it should be, and as threatening as a spitting cat caught wet in the rain. But the nightwolf turns in a too-fast-for-a-human perfect spin, and in its outside arm is a spear with a fat blade and blood-red tassle, and that spear is meant for your chest and it's only with the luck of the gods you manage to throw yourself to one side - As your hip sings loud with the pain, you push yourself up off the table that saved you. The nightwolf lets loose a short bark of frustration and anger. It gathers its spear and leaps forward. [[Fight->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "SavedArrogant") (set: $monster to "nightwolf") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $tassledspear) (set: $fightth to 4) (set: $Peevish's talked to true)

(if: $myweapondm's type is "knife" and $myskill is "knife")[Without a pause in your step, you pitch and throw your knife with perfect form. It spins twice in the air and buries itself neatly in the side of the nightwolf's neck. Mackenzie pants to a stop beside you as the creature falls into a heap. She watches you retrieve your knife in gory silence. Her expression when you look up is nothing short of incredulous. "And they said you were an ambassador," she says. You're saved from replying by the man you just saved. [[Continue->SavedArrogant]]](else-if: $myweapondm's type is "pike" and $myskill is "pike")[You change your steps and shift your spear into a one-handed grip. You sight on the charging creature and feel the old memories rising in your arm. With a lunge you throw your spear - a full motion across your legs and body - and the narrow weapon crosses the distance and sinks into the nightwolf's running form with a slick and painful sound. Mackenzie pants to a stop beside you as you retrieve your spear with a twist. The nightwolf lies dead at your feet, it's lips still pulled back in a snarl. "And they said you were an ambassador," Mackenzie says. You're saved from replying by the man you just saved. [[Continue->SavedArrogant]]](else:)[You swing your (print: $myweapondm's type) high and over your shoulder, and release with a grunt of hope and more than a little prayer. The heavy weapon spins end over end like a giant thrown hammer, and you lean forward on the balls of your feet as the blade comes close - And bounces off the nightwolf's back leg. The nightwolf spins with a hiss. Some blood leaks from its heel, but nowhere near enough to bring it down. The partier scrambles over yet another table, but the nightwolf spares him no notice. You're now the lesser prey. [[Fight!->MackenzieSaves]]]

Mackenzie pulls up panting behind you. Hands on her knees, she stares as the nightwolf chases down the running partier.(if: $Mev's following)[ Mev stops a few steps beyond you with a curse. ]What happens next is hardly pretty - but at least it's quick. "Strike one from that list," She says with gallows humor, and its with a pang of guilt you turn to look for another direction. [[Look around->LookAround]]

You turn to the man you just saved. For a perfect moment his guilt and regret and desire for absolution run rampant across his face. His shirt is badly ripped, and there is a bloody bite on his arm. Steadying himself with visible effort, he bows to you and your companions (but mostly to you). "Ambassador," he says, and his voice is as silky as the moment you met him, whatever else has happened, "it seems I have misjudged you. And perhaps, all of the $mycolor $mykingdom as well." He looks around. "Whatever else happens tonight, you have bought yourself an ally." [["This is hardly the time."->DenyDeal]] (set: $Arrogant's saved to true) (set: $countinnocents to it + 1)

He shakes his head. "You'd be surprised," and there's a trace of the old arrogance back already. "You have your leverage. Use it." [["I want the merchants freed."->AskDeal]] [["I want trade reopened."->AskDeal]] [["Forget it."->ForgetDeal]]

"Of course," the man you rescued says. "Contact me afterwards. If we both survive." [["You should find a place to hide."->ArrogantHides]] (if: $exitopen)[[["There's an exit. Over there."->ArrogantToExit]]]

"Your brilliance amazes," he says drily, but with a clasp of his hands that might have been a prayer, he ducks and finds his way among the scattered and overturned tables. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

You might as well have told him...well, that there was a safe passage out. "My eternal loyalty," he says, with a clasp of his hands that might have been a prayer, he scuttles out in the direction of the hidden alcove with the exit. "Well that was fun," Mackenzie says, with a wrinkle in her nose that tells you what she thinks of him. [["Let's go."->SaveArrogant2]]

The arrogant man shakes his head again. "Hopeless," he pronounces. "How they made you ambassador I'll never know." "We just saved your ass," Mackenzie points out bluntly. "Yes, you did." The man you rescued replies. "And I am trying to save yours in return." [["Can you fight?"->ArrogantCantFight]]

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"I meant //politically//," the arrogant man replies. "No, I cannot hold a sword to save my own life. A fact which is beyond pathetic, but here we are. I //was// looking for an exit. The duke's guard is unforgivably derelict in not breaking in and rescuing us sooner." You blink. [["Better hide, then."->ArrogantHides]] (if: $exitopen)[[["There's an exit."->ArrogantToExit]]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

The nightwolf leaps forward - and Mackenzie slams her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) down hard on its spear, jumping in front of you with reckless abandon. She parries the nightwolf's counter-thrust with a move of more luck than skill, and stabs at the creatures heart. "Your (print: $myweapondm's type)!" She grunts out of the side of her mouth, as she blocks the nightwolf's next thrust with an inefficient swing that spares her lower belly by a whisker. [[Grab your (print: $myweapondm's type)->GrabWeapon]]

Shocked out of your freeze, you lunge for your (print: $myweapondm's type). The nightwolf turns to intercept you - and Mackenzie brings her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) down squarely on the top of its skull. The nightwolf collapses in a heap. (if: $Mackenzie's weapon is not "chair leg")[Mackenzie yanks her weapon graphically out of its corpse.](else:)[Mackenzie shakes her weapon to rid it of the blood.] You grab your weapon, standing with a (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"rueful","admiring","guilty","distracted") look. "Bastard," Mackenzie says. [["Me?"->SavedByM1]] [["Nice job."->SavedByM1]]

"Fucker." Mackenzie says. Her adrenaline is clearly up; she glares around, looking for something else to whack. You're saved from asking what she meant by the man you rescued. [[Continue->SavedArrogant]]

Go! (set: $myskill to "pike") (set: $myweapondm to $shortspear) (set: $myweapon to $myweapondm's label) [[TestNow->DefendArrogant]]

Monsters and partiers fight and flee, but none close enough for you to save. You move away from (either: "the tables", "the dance floor", "the wall") at a trot, looking for somewhere you can help. [[Look around->LookAround]] (set: $turns to it + 3)

You crack your neck and swing your (print: $myweapondm's label) to keep your wrists and shoulders warm. (if: $Mackenzie's following)[Beside you, Mackenzie practically twitches with impatience. ] (if: $Mev's following)[Mev settles into a relaxed stance, though his face is troubled, and his eyes never stop tracking the action. ] [[Look around some more->LookAround]] (set: $turns to it + 3)

the cards tonight. You'll need your weapons as well as your wits before the night is over - and you'll have decisions to make, decisions made in the moment that quite literally put lives in your hands. Good luck. The queen put her faith in you. 're the queen's (junior) ambassador, here to build rapport with this difficult duke and his noble entourage. Of course, you didn't expect to be fightin A diplomatic assignment, of course. The queen of Madrassa would //never// condone anything else. You're here as her (junior) ambassador, sent to mingle and persuade the duke's noble entourage of the error of their ways. Ways like imprisoning your queen's merchants for no reason at all. It's going to be quite a party.

"For what?" She snaps, adjusting and straightening her narrow-fronted dress. "From that single apparition? There are hundreds more. Where are the soldiers? Where are the duke's private guards?" You focus on (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"a spot over her shoulder","her face","the fallen skeleton"). [["I don't know."->SavedPeevish3]]

You look around in sudden fear - but the room remains in chaos. Tangles of living bones harass and chase and slice at partiers. Clay golems smash through tables and corners and courageous, badly-armed innocents. Nightwolves dart and hunt and kill among the wreckage. The monsters are still here. "Shit," Mackenzie says beside you. [["The monsters are still here!"->MonstersStillHereAlt]] [["What about my (print: $myweapondm's type)?"->MeltedWeapon2]]

"Don't know," Mackenzie admits. "At least there won't be any more." You look around. A glance tells you there are far more monsters than partiers. The few small groups still standing are all surrounded by summoned creatures. Others are stalking the room, hunting into corners and poking under tables. [["We have to stop them."->MackenzieIdea]]

"Hmm," Mackenzie says. "Alright. If we don't know - time to find somebody who does." You frown. [["The soldiers."->SoldiersKnowRoom]] [["The spymaster."->HavekKnowsRoom]] [["The countess?"->CountessKnowsRoom]]

The Countess eyes your little group. "We require a talisman," she commands. (if: $Mystics's following)["I am here," Tarissa provides evenly. The countess weighs her for a moment, then nods once. "Then it is time."](else:)["We have one," Mackenzie replies, a little sharply. "The ambassador has it." At her look, you raise the narrow crystal still clutched in your hand. Its surface is startlingly cool against your palm. The countess eyes the crystal carefully. "Then it is time," she decides.] She looks you in the eye. "I require a pike." [["What?"->WhatIsPike]] [["We'll find one."->QuickPike]]

"Ambassador." Havek smiles, idly wiping his long knife on the wood of the alcove's rim. He still looks untouched: not a hair out of place, and a smile as sun-blasting as ever. "Your survival continues to impress," he says approvingly. "But you didn't come for my praise." [["Just helping out."->JustHelping]] (if: $needkey)[[["We need a key for the side door."->NeedKey]]] (if: $portalkilled)[[["We're looking for the duke's spyroom."->AskDukeSpyroom2]]]

"She's gonna be the duke," Mev says, ladelling soup from the large soup-kettle andmeeting your eyes with only a glance. "The Countess. Never would've said it. Not that she's not capable. Just... "Well, you've mucked it all right up. Havek snorts. "I am - and remain - spymaster of Zterre. Regardless of who holds the sceptre or what their idiot lackeys say. As such, it is my busines to tell you when you've gone and kicked a viper-nest.

"Find someone with magic." Mackenzie shrugs. (if: $Mev's following)["Priests," Mev suggests.] [["We go now."->AttackPortalFailDeath]] [[Look around->LookAround]]

Safely back in the $mycolor $kingdom, you've been fulfilling your duties as full amabassador for almost a month when a short scroll appears in your inbox. Unrolling it, you find (if: $Mackenzie's saved)[Mackenzie's](else:)[an anonymous] long and first-person article, detailing her experiences and conclusions from the //Events in Zterre//. Most importantly, you find a tally of those saved near the end... //Potential Allies// - ''Mackenzie'', a prominent tableteer, (if: $Mackenzie's zapped)[disappeared without a trace](else:)[survived and (if: $Duke's ending is "dead")[helped you bring down the duke](else:)[(if: $Mackenzie's ending is "fled")[, and fled to an unknown location](else:)[escaped to the $mycolor $kingdom, where she writes in exile]]]. - ''The Countess'' (if: $Countess's following)[(if: $Countess's killedduke)[ is now the Duchess of Zterre.](else-if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[survived, but has been exiled from Zterre for high treason. Her whereabouts are unknown.]](else:)[was killed in the fighting, along with all her guards.] - (if: $Mystics's following)[''Tarissa'' and ''Amram'' survived and helped you bring down the duke.](else:)[''The mystics'' were killed in the fighting. You used one of their amulets to survive.] - ''Havek'' (if: $Havek's following)[survived and helped you bring down the mage. Reading between the lines, you suspect (if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[still serves the duke](else-if: $Countess's following)[serves the new Duchess](else:)[serves the new ruler] as spymaster.](else-if: $Havek's betrayed)[survived, by locking the only door behind him. Mackenzie's article makes this clear, though it also includes Havek's arguments defending himself.](else:)[was killed in the fighting.] - ''Mev'' (if: $Mev's following)[(if: $Mev's zapped)[disappeared without a trace.](else:)[survived and helped you bring down the duke.]](else:)[was killed in the fighting.] She's also included a memorial page, complete with sketches and quotes from the survivors. As your eyes roll down the list, you match the few names with faces you saw in the party... //Partiers you could have saved// - (if: $Pretty's saved)[The pretty partier survived (but you knew that already).](else:)[The pretty partier was killed by a golem.] - (if: $Handsome's saved)[You rescued the handsome partier.](else:)[The handsome partier was killed by a skeleton.] - (if: $Peevish's saved)[You rescued the peevish partier, who survived by hiding under a table.](else:)[The peevish partier was killed by a giant skeleton.] - (if: $Flutist's saved)[You rescued the flutist from the band. He is quoted at length about 'the rights of Golems'.](else:)[The flutist was killed by a golem.] - (if: $Angry's saved)[The angry partier survived. His feelings come through loudly in the article - words like 'incompetent' and 'ridiculous' come through strongly.](else:)[The angry partier was killed by a skeleton.] - (if: $Arrogant's saved)[The arrogant partier survived. You match his name to a rather blatant letter you received offering the exchange of unofficial 'favors'. You haven't decided how to respond yet.](else:)[The arrogant partier was killed by a nightwolf.]

The great doors to the ballroom are closed. A Sandstone, I suppose. That's kind of boring. Sandstone with great supporting arches; columns around the dancefloor, carved and painted inctricatley with the colors of Zterre - red and gold and black, mostly, reflecting the gold of the torchlight and the pale wood of the dance and mingling floor and stage. The air is getting stuffy. So many desperate people and all the doors are closed. You throw yourself against the wide wooden door. The space is simply black. "Mages are dangerous," Mackenzie says. "Bloody magic," Mackenzie says. "After all that. And the duke was a mage after all." "And nobody knew?" Mackenzie snorts. "Not that I ever heard. He'd have to work pretty damn hard to keep it a secret - but then, no one'd ever heard of him before about five years ago. So this could have been his play all along." A gentle wind rises up from the cliffs below. It smells agreeably of dust and dirt and open air. "Long time to keep it "What will you do now?" "Now?" Mackenzie laughs, but there's a bitter tint to it. "Get as far away from here as I can. I know enough not to stay where I'm not wanted." She takes a solid swallow of her drink, and looks again at the desert. "Thing about taking shots at royalty," she says. "You gotta make your shots count." [["We didn't have enough." "You think he's going to 'have enough'?" Mackenzie ripostes. "Believe me, I know his type. He'll have assassins on us all before the week is out." [["It can't be that bad." "Fine. You're right. Let's stick around and see how long our thumbs stay in our sockets." Mackenzie shakes her head firmly. A gust of wind catches the hair on her brow. "This guy is an asshole, ambassador, and I suggest you get that into your head." [["What do you suggest?" "Now? Run." Mackenzie takes another solid sip from her goblet. "Enjoy our last free night, but don't drink anything you didn't make your self. Don't walk anywhere alone and by the goddess' sweet teat don't talk to the duke." You frown. You're pretty sure the duke is going to want to talk to you tonight. "I'm sorry about your boss," Mackenzie says. She raises her pewter goblet in a toast, and you match it with one of your own. Your drink is sweet and far too powerful to be drinking this late at night - or this eraly in the morning. A hint of the greying dawn peeks across the flat horizon to your left. [["I'm sorry too." "How sorry?" Mackenzie asks. [["What" "Well, you're full ambassador now, aren't you? The $mycolor merchants are out and the embargo is gone out the doorway. Pretty full camel you're riding, isn't it?" Something in her eyes watches you carefully for an answer. [["That's not why I did it." "No," Mackenzie agrees, still watching you like a hawk with her prey. "But it somehow all works out in your favor, doesn't it?" [["Is that a question?" "No. Yes. Did Zagreb tell you what he was planning?" [["No!" She watches your face for another full breath. "Fuck me," she mutters. "I believe you." A gust of wind catches her hair as she settles her elbows again on the stone parapet. "You goddamn $mycolors," she mutters under her breath. "You're impossible to read. [["Alright, you caught me." "Gotcha." Mackenzie turns away, back to the open desert. "You $mycolor types are all the same. Two hundred dead and you come out with a better deal for //trade.//" Her scorn flares and burns its way across the sand. [["I didn't kill them all! "No, you didn't." Mackenzie agrees. "And the duke needed to go down. But you didn't have to be so smug about it." [["I'm not sure what you expected." Mackenzie stares at you for a moment. Torchlight from behind your head reflects itself in her glittering eyes. "I guess you're not," Mackenzie agrees. And with that she takes her drink and launches herself back into the claustrophic castle. [["I can't believe he was in on it." Mackenzie coughs. "I would," she replies, and takes your startled stare in stride. "I'm serious," she protests. "He was a good ambassador. But he would absolutely help a duke get his hands dirty, if he thought it would be good for his //queen//. I've watched him come here for years. It's not the first time I thought I saw his hands get dirty." [["What happened?" "Nothing I could prove," Mackenzie demurs. "A gossip here and there. A disappearance a couple of years ago, that never got resolved. And he was close to the duke, whatever they pretended in public." A missed-communication there. The kind of thing a man of words and influence could handle without ever makinmurder here. A disappearance there. "You think you saved him? You think he's grateful? He'sGet out with the first ride out of town We crossed him, and we know something he'd rather not share. Double-gold, and not in our favor."

Or do you just murderize the duke? A1, I suppose. Then he's a mage, which drops you down into A & B. A) do you believe him? There's no evidence he was under duress. Just the body language in the last room. B) if you don't believe him, do you tell everyone what he did? He's going to be the duke afterwards. He's holding your merchants and your economy hostage. Do you tell? And of course, F) you gave the countess a pike and she solved your problem for you :) And why not? I mean, that much...

Demo Complete! This marks the end of the (free) demo of //The Duke of Zterre//. Don't worry: there are another 20,000 words (and counting!) past this point. Up next is a lot of the good stuff (fighting skeletons! saving partiers!) - but I'm still polishing out the ending forks, and so I'm cutting the demo off here while I get the rest of it all tied of with a bow. In the meantime, my sincerest thinks to all of you readers, for making it with me this far! -Alex (6/20/2025)

Mission critical is mission critical I suppose. There are always multi-energy dynamics. There is always the creative seed. The urge to finish something. To make it 'good'. Or good enough, artists are never perfect, but I think we could do more. Right, we had some logic pieces. Did we hard-code Havek to dead Mystics? I think we did. Did we spend a whole ton of time in design brain

"That's alright," the flutist accepts your apology. "You were distracted. And you thought I was in danger." He pulls at his shirt-collar awkwardly. [["You //were// in danger."->FlutistWasDanger1]] [["Weren't you?"->FlutistWasDanger2]]

"A distraction would have been enough," the flutist says calmly, looking over your shoulder. "Though there are fewer distractions every minute. Perhaps you were not wrong." [["You should hide."->FlutistShouldHide]] (if: $needkey is true)[[["There's an exit."->FlutistShouldExit]]]

"A golem is merely a summoned creature. It senses movement and pursues anyone not marked as an ally. In the moment, I forgot that." The flutist draws himself up. "But now I have remembered." [["You should hide, then."->FlutistShouldHide]] (if: $needkey is true)[[["There's an exit."->FlutistShouldExit]]]

You find Mackenzie atop the outer wall, peering between thick blocks of standstone out at the desert below. She turns as you approach, resting her elbows on the stone. She's changed. Her top is sleeveless, wrapped around her neck and flattering in the extreme. There is a humor in her eyes that you never really noticed before. She leans beside you on the sandstone wall of the the upper keep; the dusty plain begins a hundred feet below her wrists. It's late. You're not sure how late; you've seen and felt more tonight than anyone should feel in a year. You lean against the stone balustrade yourself and stretch your fingers on the solid stone. "You should know," Mackenzie says conversationally, "the Countess will be the next duke. [["I didn't do that!"->ND2]] [[Stare at Mackenzie->ND2]] Mackenzie meets your gaze with light and intelligent eyes. You're not sure what she knows, and she lets you wriggle on her hook. [["How?" "Technically, an election by the council of Alders." Mackenzie shrugs her flared shoulders. "Reality? She survived and a lot of others didn't." You hesitate for a moment. [["Good." [["Is that good?" Mackenzie shrugs again. "She's not the old duke." A warm wind presses your stiffened clothes against your back. . It will happen this week. [["I killed the duke." Mackenzie watches your eyes for a long moment, as though looking for the truth of it. "Why?" she asks. The hug of light from the dance-room casts most of her face in shadow. [["For what he did tonight." Mackenzie nods slowly. "Judge, jury and executioner," she says, and her understanding is tempered by an even look. "Efficient." [["Because he was an asshole." [["It just felt right." Mackenzie stares at you. Her jaw moves once, and then she says, "And just like that. You didn't think what it would mean for the rest of us, did you?" "What do you mean?" "The duke is dead, as are most of those with the following and influence to take his place." She folds her arms across her chest. "You've never been in a succession crisis, have you?" [["No" [["Actually, I have" "It'll be a bloody mess. No heirs, thin claims, and soldiers with no one to follow. Fucking gods, Ambassador, but you've kicked us over the side." The warm wind tugs at your stained clothes. No one else is close, and Mackenzie's condemnation is colder than all the iced drinks of the night. [["Shit." "Shit," Mackenzie agrees. She takes a breath. "Still, you saved my ass. I supose I'd better thank you. Thanks." [["It was nothing." "And that's the way I'll write it," Mackenzie says, deadpan but with a knowing look in her eye. "The Ambassador from the $mycolor $kingdom. Fought down skeletons and monsters, rescued (the occasional innocent)(innocents)(only those who were useful), and killed the mage responsible.(let the man responsible walk free)" [["Seems harsh." [["I like it." "Is it?" Mackenzie asks innocently, but you know better. "You forget. I'm a tableteer, first and always. I write it like I see it." Her drink is finished. She eyes it with a frown, and whirls it once in her hand. "Now if you don't mind, I think I'll go and have another drink." She gives you a final look. "I've got some things to forget." [[Blink [[" [["That's it?" "Yeah." Says Mackenzie firmly. "I'm not really about that debt and gratitude shit. An anyway, you were saving your own butt as much as mine." [["Yeah but.And a lot of others. I suppose that deserves a drink." That means I won't write you up. For at least, I don't know, three weeks." [["Saying what?" "Saying exactly what I know," Mackenzie says evenly. "That you fought down skeletons and monsters. That you saved a lot of innocents. That you killed the man responsible." [["...Thanks." "Don't mention it." Her drink is finished. She eyes it theatrically; whirls it around in her hand. "Now if you don't mind, I think I'll go and have another drink." as well as those you needed to "That you're a hero who saved a lot of lives. can't help feel suddenly and deeply cold. [["But you just said the Countess..." "She'll rule here. Maybe she'll win. And Mev says, "We got to the mage's room. Over here, it's just going to be bloody. Odds are this fortress burns b And Mev says, "There were many other books." "Magic this, magic that," he continues, as though discussing ingredients. "Our Zyxos was very well versed. Rather a generalist than a specialist." You dare a glance at Mev. He glances innocently back. There's something here - something you're missing. "Is that important?" You ask finally. Mev looks away. "No," he seems to decide. You step out of the soup line together. Mev pleads a prior engagement, and you eat with a collection of soldiers who seem to think you're their hero. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"I wish we'd -" she begins, but then her eyes go over your shoulder, sudden worry creasing her face. She pushes your arm, and you spin with your (print: $myweapondm's type) rising. A vengeful second golem lurches at you, eight foot tall and with a spiked mace raised in its stony fist! [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "PostPretty") (set: $savedpretty to true) (set: $prettydate to false) (set: $monster to "golem") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $spikedmace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

"Too bad, I would - " she begins, but then her eyes go over your shoulder, sudden worry creasing her face. She pushes your arm, and you spin with your (print: $myweapondm's type) rising. A vengeful second golem lurches at you, eight foot tall and with a spiked mace raised in its stony fist! [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $followpsg to "PostPretty") (set: $savedpretty to true) (set: $prettydate to false) (set: $monster to "golem") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $spikedmace) (set: $fightth to (random: (2,3))) (set: $turns to $turns + 1)

"Betrayed?" Havek asks. "No. I told you quite clearly my opinion. And then I did what was best for the duke - and for everyone else in the fortress. Dozens spared, while a few more fell in the banquet room. I stand wholly by my actions." He looks clean. His dark jacket is buttoned just as tightly; the warlike dagger no doubt hidden deep inside. He's brushed and cleaned his hair. And his eyes, despite his words, are watchful as a cat's. [["You don't know that."->HavekPostChain2]]

"How could that be," Havek asks, "since you are clearly still alive?" He looks clean. His dark jacket is buttoned just as tightly; the warlike no doubt hidden deep inside. He's brushed and cleaned his hair. "You survived," Havek tells you. "Be glad of that." [["You betrayed us!"->HavekPost2A]] [["You'll pay for this."->HavekPost3]]

"For what?" Havek asks, and his smile is back - the smile of a snake who can do little else. "I survived. It is unfortunate that so few others could say the same." [["I have witnesses."->HavekPost4]]

"And I have a duke," Havek says, and the smile never leaves his eyes. "My cards beat yours, humble ambassador. Take your losses and go." His eyes glitter. The smell of wine and fresh-baked bread clashes with like salt on the wound of your heart. But not for nothing were you Zagreb's junior ambassador. If you can't beat him here, perhaps you can win some other way. [["This isn't over."->HavekPost5]]

"Isn't it?" Havek asks, but you can see the shift of danger in his eyes, as he wonders what you mean. "You remain as the duke's honored //guest//. Nothing more." A survivor brushes past both of you, his plate full and his eyes downcast. The silence grows as you both watch him pass. [["You're wrong."->HavekPost6B]] [["We'll see."->HavekPost6]] [["I guess you're right."->HavekPost6]]

"Am I?" Havek murmurs, but his eyes watch you as you turn away. Your intuition tells you to be glad the room is full of survivors - the skin between your shoulders goes tight as armor as it senses a knife stabbed deep in your back. (link:"Leave")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Indeed," Havek murmurs, but his eyes watch you as you turn away. Your intuition tells you to be glad the room is full of survivors - the skin between your shoulders goes tight as armor as it senses a knife stabbed deep in your back. (link:"Leave")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"I do, actually." Havek says smoothly. "The guards were wholly unprepared for an onslaught - as I predicted. What a summoned golem can do to a soldier is extremely well-documented." His eyes glitter. The smell of wine and fresh-baked bread clashes with like salt on the wound of your heart. "Taken together, my actions were quite valid - noble, even." He gives himself a deprecating smile. "Though I could not claim that, of course." [["This isn't over."->HavekPost5]] [["We'll see."->HavekPost6]] [["I guess you're right."->HavekPost6]]

You spin around in sudden fear. The room echoes with the smell of fresh-spent magic. The stone walls seem to waver as you pierce them with your desperate gaze. But only silence greets you. A terrible loss swells up from your heart and out through your throat. A night's fill of alcohol and rich food and terrible, gut-twisting guilt spills out on the stone before your feet. The duke, a mage. His final act, a killing spell. Only the mystics' crystal saved you - a crystal now hot shatteringly hot on your neck. You rip it off your shoulders and cast it thrashingly aside. But your allies remain gone. Dead. You don't know how long it is before you stumble out of the narrow, echoing room. [[Leave the room->PostOutAllDead]] (if: $Mackenzie's following)[(set: $Mackenzie's saved to false)(set: $Mackenzie's zapped to true)] (if: $Mystics's following)[(set: $Mystics's saved to false)(set: $Mystics's zapped to true)] (if: $Mev's following)[(set: $Mev's saved to false)(set: $Mev's zapped to true)] (if: $Countess's following)[(set: $Countess's saved to false)(set: $Countess's zapped to true)] (if: $Havek's following)[(set: $Havek's saved to false)(set: $Havek's zapped to true)]

Finally you pull yourself off of your knees. You brush your mouth with the back of your sweaty wrist. You leave the mess on the floor - there's nothing to clean it with, nothing at all in this awful, deadly chamber. You push yourself off the walls and make it to the doorway. You push aside the door. The wood door opens into a ring - of bones and clay and fur and blood. Perhaps a dozen summoned creatures lie dead and in pieces in that ring. A large and shapeless golem lies face-down as though struck from behind with a club. A fresh wave of emotion - anger, guilt, and gratitude - sweeps over your shaking knees. The work of your allies lies plain for all to see. [[Move forward->POAD2]]

You pick your way forward. The wreckage of the room - what were once banqueted tables and rich wines - intermingles with spattered islands of carnage and death. Partiers lie singly or in small groups, bloody and with fear and pain written in their open eyes. There are very few wounded. Someone pushes open the doors, and a flood of warm evening air roils into the grisly room. Soldiers charge into the room in phlanx, swords glinting and clean, armored heads looking for all the world like shiny pilbugs. They stumble over each other in a half a dozen steps. Their captain takes in the room for a moment, then strides from the front row directly toward you. "Ambassador," he says formally. "You killed the mage." [["...Yes."->YepKilledMageAllDead]]] [["It's complicated."->ComplicatedMage]]

"Complicated can wait." The soldier lets out a heavy breath. "So long as the threat is over, and I can put my people on rescueing the survivors. Goddess's breath, but I didn't think it would be so easy." He reads your expression and winces. "Sorry," he says. "But you've spared my team a fight they probably weren't going to win." [["Where were you?"->WhereWereSoldiers]] [["What now?"->WhatNowSoldier]]

"That's good." The soldier lets out a heavy breath. "Then the threat is over, and I can put my people on rescueing the survivors. Goddess's breath, but I didn't think it would be so easy." He reads your expression and winces. "Sorry," he says. "But you've spared my team a fight they probably weren't going to win." [["Where were you?"->WhereWereSoldiers]] [["What now?"->WhatNowSoldier]]

The soldier leaves, and you let out a breath. Emotion and alcohol and adrenaline course through your veins like the world's finest cocktail. As your eyes drift over the room - soldiers helping partiers, warm night air rolling over the maelstrom of violence and terror, the rest of the night seems to pass in a series of blinks... (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

Mackenzie snorts. "Strategy, that," she says. She taps the stone beneath her wrists with one flat hand, reminding you of where you are. "What about your //mission//. Zterre?" [["What do you mean?"->WhatMeanDukeDead]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"I don't," Mackenzie says bluntly. "But I'll tell you, because I like you - Zagreb would have." [["I'm not Zagreb."->NotZagreb]] [["Who are the candidates?"->WhoCandidates]]

"Don't you see it?" Mackenzie asks. "She killed the reigning Duke. By Zterre logic, that makes her the obvious successor. As well as one of the few who could do it with impunity." She gives you a rather heavy glance at this. "Your overly-civilized $mykingdom still has a few things to learn." You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"shake your head","frown deeply","smirk"). "And we are witnesses," Tarissa agrees. [["So what now?"->CKD5]]

Mackenzie shrugs. "Now, we go on living." "Our work is done," Tarissa agrees. [[Leave the room.->PostOutDeadDuke]]

You have achieved ending 4.(text-colour:green)[4] How to pick up the threads of an old life?

You find yourself in a small room, in line behind a short, broad-shouldered woman with bandages over her shoulder. As she turns in the light, you recognize her: the Countess's injured guard, alive and walking. [["You survived!"->PCF2]] [["I'm glad you made it."->PCF2]]

Right. And in conclusion: 1) You killed the duke. 2) You believed he was innocent 3) You know/believe he's guilty, but you left him in power anyway. 4) I mean, are we really arguing murder? Death in hot blood, with blood on his hands

A half an hour has passed, and you take a last look over your shoulder. The fortress of Zterre glows sandstone yellow with just the barest hint of pink. Its square towers cut rigidly into the cloudless sky, and in the northwest corner, the flag of the Duke flaps strongly in the desert wind. The red on its canvas is an illusion only; the product of a rising sun and dust suspended high in the air. You bow your head and watch Zagreb's cart roll on the dusty path before you. //The end// [[See stats->SeeStats]]

You walk among the camels and carts, smelling the coarse hair and warm grease, feeling the dust and grit and dry taste of the air, presaging the journey ahead. One cart is square and covered with a wooden roof. "For the body," says the scrawny ferrier as she hooks a pair of camels to the cart. "The big honcho guy from $mycolor $kingdom. They're sending him back //pickled//." The thought of it makes you squeamish. Another cart there is, larger even than the ambassador's: a rolling cell. The ferrier won't acknowledge it; she barely even looks at it. When the duke's body is escorted in by a phalanx of bronze-armored guards, she's hidden far out of sight. The duke is the last to be loaded. "All up!" Calls the caravan-master, in a high, clear voice that's good for the desert. You know from experience you'll be hearing too much of that voice. You nudge your camel - named 'Sabetha' - and she lurches to her feet. You wrap your desert turban high across your nose. Your allies stand inside the gate. Mackenzie waves, something glittering in her fingers. Mev gives a stiff and rather - for him - serious bow, at least for him. Tarissa closes her eyes and touches her throat in benediction, raising her fingers in an L. Even the countess is there, trying to look busy, but failing utterly with nothing to do but watch a dozen camels in the dust. She catches your eye and nods slightly, regally. It strikes me that she'll likely be the next duchess. [[Blink->EndingPassageDukeKilled]]

"Thanks," she says so neutrally you might have been stone. Within the room, a single faded tapestry hangs from one wall. An old, wide table holds covered pots of fresh soup and small plates of dried meat; sustainance for survivors and helpers still awake this late in the night. A short queue has formed; you take your place, behind the injured guard. As you step forward, a practiced intuition lights up your tired brain. It's strange to see this guard so far from the Countess. [["And the Countess...?"->PCF3]] [["How is the Countess?"->PCF3]]

"Done." The guard says simply. A flick of her eyes makes her word thick with meaning. [["What does that mean?"->PCF4]]

The guard looks at you levelly. Something like accusation lurks behind her eyes. "Duke put her in for treason." [["What??"->PCF45]] [["That's bullshit."->PCF5]]

The guard smiles a grim smile. She doesn't say anything else. [["Why?"->PCF6]]

The guard shrugs. "Best guess, she knews something he didn't want known. She wasn't supposed to survive." She shrugs again, with a glance at the soldier behind you. His expression is blank when you turn reflexively. When you turn back, you know you have to ask... [["She's in the dungeon?"->PCF7]] [["She's dead?"->PCF7]]

"No." The guard shakes her head, eyes down. "No idiot, that woman. Got herself out safe before the duke had time to turn around. Bit of luck, she'll make it." [["It's all my fault."->PCFMyFault]] [["What can I do?"->PCF8]]

The guard makes a low growl in her throat. "No one's fault but his," she corrects you. "Had it in for her tonight, one way or another. Me, I'm glad she survived in one piece.(if: $Countess's saved)[ 'part next to you," she adds with a nod.](else:)["] The soup line moves forwards, and it's your turn to ladle. [["What can I do?"->PCF8]]

"Get out," the guard says bluntly. "Dunno what the Duke's promised - you want to get yourself back and out of his fortress, first chance you get." [["What about for the countess?"->PCF9]]

"Nothin' you or I can do," the guard says. "Her cards are played. She's out, and I won't tell you where to." She nods her chin firmly, and you see the worry behind the motion. [["I'm leaving tomorrow."->PCF10]]

"Good." the guard says. She watches you ladle for a moment, then nods once more. You recognize the conversation is over. You pour soup into your bowl and try not to think about anythign else. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Treason," the guard repeats, her voice low and hard. "Put it out about an hour ago. Told anyone who would listen all the terrible things she did." Shock pulses like a cold wave down your neck. [["That's bullshit."->PCF5]]

Mackenzie narrows her eyes. Mev frowns. (if: $Mystics's following)[But Tarissa says thoughtfully, "It could be done otherwise." [["What do you mean?"->SDP2]]](else:)[

"Such a portal would be unstable - consuming of both power and focus. Killing the mage who created it would work - but there are other reasons it could have failed. Weakness, or distraction." Her eyes are steady as they look past you, apparently at the wall. "So what then," Mackenzie says harshly. "If Zyxos was not the mage - " The duke stirs. "Did you not see his magic?" He asks, as though you are fools. "His power was terrible. His portal summoned dozens of creatures - and it fell, precisely when he did. You are fools if you believe otherwise." Mackenzie steps back, anger painting strong lines on her face. "I am no fool," she snaps. "Dozens, maybe hundred dead. Many of them your political allies and opponents. I see only one person this could possibly benefit, and that person is //you//." She lets out a great huff, and her eyes when they catch yours are full of anger, contempt - and trust. "I leave it to you," she says. "You were the one in the room. And you're the only one with immunity, if this all goes to hell." You feel the eyes of the rest of the room turn to you. [["He's innocent.->PronounceDukeInnocent]] [["He's guilty.->DontCoverDuke]]

Mackenzie lets out a sigh like a horse and shakes her head bitterly. Mev cracks his neck, but stays silent. Tarissa frowns thoughtfully. And the duke, after a moment, pushes himself finally off the back wall. He bows, just slightly, to you. And then he walks between you, a slight smile on his face, out through the open door and into the carnage beyond. You hear him greet someone outside, and the guard responds in a low, gruff voice. Your allies look at each other and at you in sudden worry. But the guard pokes in his head, and his eyes when they see you are fixed with concern. "The duke's regards," he says gruffly. "Asked if you'd stop by the medical room on your way out. Said you looked a little shaken up." He takes in your little group. You're conscious of blood on your arm, and of a deep rip in your shirt; there's grit on your skin, and it's nothing to the shaking tension running through all the muscles of your arm. The soldier ducks his chin, and leaves the doorway open. [[Take a breath->DukeWalkedFree]]

"Proof?" Mackenzie asks. (if: $Countess's following)["You have my word," the countess says softly. [["He's innocent."->PronounceDukeInnocent]] [["We can't be sure."->AgnosticDukeLate]] [["I believe you. He's guilty."->DontCoverDuke]]](else:)[The duke watches you, silently. He's trying to project an easy confident, but his posture is failing him - his shoulders are tense as a threatened cat's. [["He's innocent."->PronounceDukeInnocent]] [["We can't be sure."->AgnosticDukeLate]] [["You're right. He's guilty."->DontCoverDuke]]]

"When //he// killed?" Mackenzie repeats. "Not you." Something like a growl comes from the back wall, but when you look, the duke stands just wheer he was before. His expression is trying to be serene. "Well that's obvious," Mackenzie pronounces. "He didn't want the mage telling us who hired him." The duke clears his throat. "As I told you," he says quietly, "I could not act, because he had his creatures with him. Only tonight - when the ambassador attacked him - was Zyxos distracted enough for me to take that risk." [["Hmmm."->SDP3]]

Mackenzie steps back, anger painting strong lines on her face. "I am no fool," she snaps. "Dozens, maybe hundred dead. Many of them your political allies and opponents. I see only one person this could possibly benefit, and that person is //you//." She lets out a great huff, and her eyes when they catch yours are full of anger, contempt - and trust. "I leave it to you," she says. "You were the one in the room. And you're the only one with immunity, if this all goes to hell." You feel the eyes of the rest of the room turn to you. [["He's innocent.->PronounceDukeInnocent]] [["He's guilty.->DontCoverDuke]]

Decision made, you take a firm step forward, raising your (print: $myweapondm's type)- And a pulse of frozen air drops through your chest and out the other side. Mackenzie grunts out a curse as the only door to the room is suddenly covered by magical shimmering silver. "You cannot stop me," the duke repeats, and his fingers are suddenly dripping with light - bright white, whiter than the magic from the mystics' crystals; bright enough to cast the entire room sharply into light and shadow - and he continues, "And now, none of you leave this room." [[Fight!->BlinkDukeMageKill]]

Mackenzie shakes her head. "That's not good enough," she says, and she points at the duke. "This is a yes-or-no decision. The only time we're going to get it. If we're wrong, well..." Her eyes go to the pair of bodies on the floor. Blood is pooling on the floor beneath them, and the smell of it is rising in the stilted air. The duke hmphs the smallest hmph, impatiently. [["Then I guess he's innocent."->SaveDuke]] [["Say he was guilty."->DontCoverDuke]]

You find the countess in a narrow room, lit by far too many torches. Their golden light shines on half-dozen wounded soldiers and partiers, each lying on makeshift blankets on the floor. There are just as many healers in the room as injured. One of them wears a golden dress. The Countess looks up. Her eyes meet yours for a long and trusting moment. She's wiped most of the kohl and paint off her face, and her eyes without them are small and piercing. Her dress still glitters in the torchlight, her knee protruding through a long tear up one side; there's blood on the hem, and more on her hands, as she tends an injured soldier. "Hold this," she commands, [[Help her]]

You crouch to help, pinning the bandage against the soldier's torso while the Countess wraps and ties it close. You work in silence, except for the soldier's sharp breaths of pain; the noise and distraction of this terrible night somehow far away, and close beneath your fingers. "Thank you," the Countess says. The soldier lies back gingerly, looking urgently for sleep. The Countess gestures, and in an echo of another life, you fall into step beside her. "You kept your word," the Countess says, and you are alone in the hallway. Stone on both sides reminds you too much of the party room; narrow windows open out into darkness. "He is dead, because of you." [["//I// didn't kill him."->PCCountessKilledDuke]] [["He forced my hand."->PC26]] [["He was guilty."->PC2]]

"The second who came through the portal," the Countess says matter-of-factly. "She wasn't in the room - dead or alive - when we opened the doors. It's likely she escaped into the fortress." You curse softly, and the Countess gives you a sympathetic glance. "We will find her. I suspect she is not human. If not, that will make it easier." Her expression drifts, and she shrugs her bare shoulders. "But no matter. I wanted to tell you personally. Your merchants will be released tonight. An hour, not more." A great weight lifts off your shoulders, though you can't yet throw it off completely. [["But the duke said - "->PC5]]

It's Havek. He shifts his weight. His grey eyes sweep over you - you haven't changed; you've barely done more than wash your face and hands - but it's something like respect that settles behind his features. It

Oh, right. We're going to put pick up weapon at the bottom of all the small fights (at the bottom of all the returns). The final passage still sets handle to follow, but we also "look for weapons", which shows you what the weapon is. Allows weapon pick up without costing you and opportunity to save. And then, Mackenzie - romance? I think no. Havek - if not betrayed, skip ending? Feels lazy. That's ok. Mev - oh, right. The fix was in?

(either: "In a space in the chaos, a weapon glitters on the floor nearby: the", "As you catch your breath, you spot a weapon nearby: a", "It takes a moment, but you finally spot a") $monster's (print: $droppedweapondm's label), (either: "half-buried under the creature's body", "right next to your feet", "richly splattered with blood", "ancient and rusted", "half-hidden beneath the wreckage of a table"). [[Pick it up->PickUpWeapon]] [[Leave it->LookAround]]

Great! There have been a few small changes to the demo section, but nothing major. However, if you'd like to set your character/backstory customizations, you should play fresh from the beginning. [[Play from beginning->Initializing]] If you just want new content, you can play from the demo cutoff point, using default settings. [[Play from demo cutoff->TriggerMainInit]]

Mackenzie when you killed the duke. "Judge, jury, and executioner." She says matter-of-factly. You didn't stop the duke. Not kill, stop. bLUNT, caustic, swears a lot. Tends to say things without a lot of words, without all the articles. Opinionated and will tell you so. What's not to like? Lazy brown dog flopped hungrily down on the low and sagging couch. Dust rose from the cushions like a mushroom cloud, catching shafts of yellow afternoon light. A slow-bladed fan pushed warm air from the ceiling to the floor, rocking a knocking precession in it's socket: thunk-a-lck-a-thunk-a-lck. And the wooden door stood silent vigil. Unmoving. Waiting. What's in a helicopter? Besides it being at home - a sexy cockpit. Could you just draw it? The HUD, yes, not the bars of the cockpit. We need - a downward camara, triggerable - a "copilot" window, activatable (top right feels right) - status readouts: fuel left, fuel projection (seconds at this fuel will leave you not enough to get home). Fuel used different rates/different efficiencies? - altitude, airspeed, drag coefficient (1-100, based on orientation relative direction of motion) - status box for any custom add-ons: -- winch (extension, loading) -- lowered sonar receiver (triangulate) Dynamic (marking present focus, but orient to object in environment - make or buy?) - objective marker and distance to target (copilot highlights objective on target) - Does a helicopter 'kick up' on a pivot given forward motion? or is that a technique to lessen g-forces? Does the pilot have direct control of this (yaw? on the x-axis) Swing physics - people or object on extension -- swing too much, snap cable - all drops --- snap camera out to 3rd person, watch drop for three seconds, screams/cries/curses as object/carriers falls to ground, physics --- snap camera out to 3rd person, watch swing into collision, screams/cries/curses on impact (and separation and physics ragdoll fall) Avoidance missions - - upgrade detection capabilities (range, type) to improve detection range and ability (heat, EM, movement) - copilot highlights on detection - laser top, mech array, EM detector - don't fail for detection - just trigger firefight: drones (proximity, tail-sitters, other), and ground-based defenses (audio cues: 1.2s, 0.8s; respond with chaff, power drop), fight back with EM cannon, other weapons (EM rocket, plasma bomb)

Walking distractedly, you're suddenly interrupted by a bald man with seeking eyes. His grey robe and purple sash mark him as a priest - of what, you admit you can't remember. "Your pardon," he insists, but you don't for a moment believe he's here by accident. He stops in your way, sizing you up like a potential convert. "My name is Amram," he begins. "I represent the Goddess Shahat - but I'm sure you know that. Tell me. Do they follow the Goddess in the $mycolor $kingdom?" [["I believe some do."->MA25]] [["Nope."->MA2]] (set: $metamram to true)

"That is good," Amram declares, nodding his head solemly. "I take it you are not among her followers yourself." You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"frown","shift your gaze","stare blankly","blink"), and Amram moves on quickly. "I see," he says again. "Then - I hope She finds you well. I understand you have a mission - some followers of your own queen, gone missing?" His voice is casual, almost friendly, but not for nothing are you Zagreb's student - you can recognize a transaction when you see one. [["And?"->MA3]] [["That's right."->MA3]]

"That is unfortunate," Amram says, nodding his head solemnly and convincing you not at all. "I suppose it would be too much to hope for that you were her follower yourself?" You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"frown","shift your gaze","stare blankly","blink"), and Amram moves on quickly. "I see," he says again. "Then - I hope She finds you well. I understand you have a mission - some followers of your own queen, gone missing?" His voice is casual, almost friendly, but not for nothing are you Zagreb's student - you can recognize a transaction when you see one. [["And?"->MA3]] [["That's right."->MA3]]

"Dear goddess," Amram says, apparently quite serious. "I believe - I don't believe we're going to have much understanding. Ambassador." And with that he bows - //very// briefly - and sucks himself away. Leaving you free to continue your mission. [[Look Around->LookAroundForMeets]]

Amram nods once, determinedly. "Well. Perhaps the goddess would smile on your attempts. If you would visit her sanctuary." He awaits your answer with heavy eyes. [["Hell no."->MADeclineShrine]] [["I follow my own gods."->MAIndReligion]] [["Absolutely."->MAAgreeVisitShrine]]

"I see," Amram says, drawing out the words slowly. "Well then. I believe there is little else to say." And he bows - once, and quickly - and sweeps in his long robe off in a direction you're confident he picked at random. You watch him go for a moment, feeling (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"slightly worried","elated","very pleased with yourself","deeply concerned","frightened"). You shake yourself, and remind youself that you're supposed to be mingling. [[Look Around->LookAroundForMeets]]

"Is that so," Amram asks, drawing out the words as though disbelieveling that any other gods could exist. "Which, may I ask? Some who would help their patrons in need?" His tone makes it clear what he thinks your answer will be. "Yours is the patron of?" he prompts. [["Of death and destruction."->AmramFearsYourGod]] [["Of life and nature."->AmramIgnoresYourGod]] [["Of jokes and humor."->AmramIgnoresYourGod]] [["Someone you've never heard of."->AmramCustomGod]]

//"Excellent."// Amram actually claps his hands together, palm to palm and curving his fingers. "Very well. We will hope to see you...well, later tonight, or tomorrow. At the latest." With that he nods again. His bow is short and formal. His robes drag on the floor as he strides purposefully towards nothing in particular. You're left feeling rather (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"bemused","despondent","flattered","excited"). [[Look Around->LookAroundForMeets]]

"Oh," Amram says, politely and disbelievingly. "//Those// gods. I'm afraid they won't be much help to you in here." He seems to think for a moment, then nods his head. His bow is brief, and his robes brush the floor as he strides purposely away from you, apparently towards nothing in particular. Leaving you free to look around, and follow your actual mission. [[Look Around->LookAroundForMeets]]

"//Do// tell," Amram says, his eyes glittering. "I did not know there were more." You blink, then shrug. "I follow the (dropdown: 2bind $mygodtitle,"Goddess","God","Aspect","Speaker","Legacy","Memory","Precept","Lady","Lord") of (input-box:2bind $mygod,"XXX=======",1,"Luck")", you inform him. Amram sucks in his breath sharply. [["What?"->AmramFearsYourCustomGod]]

"Dear goddess," Amram says, apparently quite serious. "I believe - I don't believe we're going to have much understanding. //The $mygodtitle of $mygod.//" He repeats, sounding scared. "Ambassador..." And with that he bows - //very// briefly - and sucks himself away. Leaving you free to continue your mission. [[Look Around->LookAroundForMeets]]

"He was more," the Countess replies, walking slowly. "Tonight he was a terror. Thirty-two of the Council of Elders are dead. Two more are so badly injured they won't be able to serve. A dark mage is missing - " [["What?->WhatMage]]

The Countess gives you a glance that dares you to finish that sentence. "Trust me," she says, and you're surprised at the energy, the fluency of her words. "I took steps to save their lives as soon as we were out of that room. Your merchants are protected; and will be returned to you tonight. They can depart with you in the morning." [["What - "->PC6]] [["How - "->PC6]]

The Countess smirks. It is a small smirk, on lips unused to practicing it, but the sincerity of it is brighter than all the gold in the world. You suddenly suspect that //this// is the real reason she asked for your presence. "You can tell your queen," she says with badly-hidden satisfaction, "that Zterre is //not// a place that throws foreign nationals in dungeons. I have her people's interest firmly in my heart. And I am also not that colossally stupid." You can't help (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"grin broadly","snort","roll your eyes","cough") in response. The countess smiles back at you. [[Continue->PC7]]

You come to a corner. Two paths becon; the Countess gestures, and you come to a stop beside her. "It's up to you, what you tell you queen," she says. "So far as I'm concerned, the Duke died in the fighting. He'll be buried in the royal death-gallery," she adds, her expression showing what she thinks of this. "And Zterre will experience a peaceful transition. One they have //not// had for the past three successions." Your ambassador training kicks in suddenly; your queen will want to know about this. [["Succession? Who -" ->PC8]] [["Congratulations?"->PC85]]

The Countess gives you a flattening glance. //Oh.// "Congratulations," you say diplomatically, your thoughts whirling. "It won't be formal till tomorrow," the Countess says. "It should be quick. I had most of them already. Helping you, holding a gods-blessed //pike// in my hands again - that's just scales on the dragon." She smiles again, but worry etches its corners. [["You'll be a great duchess."->PC9]]

"Yes," the Countess says seriously. "I think I will." She frowns, then nods distantly. "But this is where our paths must part. My respect and compliments to your queen. And my personal thanks to you." She holds your eyes. "Zterre will always be in your debt." She holds your gaze to let the words take hold. And then she turns on one perfect heel and strides commandingly back up the hallway you just came. You stand, a little bit starstruck, as her hips sway in mesmerizing gold. And then you blink. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"No," the Countess agrees, and there is no regret in her eyes; only grim dedication. "But his downfall was as much your doing as mine. Even if your intentions were honorable." There's just the faintest trace of irony in her voice. "Thirty-two of the Council of Elders are dead," she continues, with quiet steel in her voice. "Two more are so badly injured they won't be able to serve. A dark mage is missing - " [["What?->WhatMage]]

"And that can be what you tell your queen," the Countess replies. "Tell me now, so I can say the same. But you had a choice, even if you thought you didn't. Of such choices, lives are saved." She gives you a glance. Her footsteps slow. "Your predecessor - Zagreb - aligned himself with the murder of most of Zterre's elite. Thirty-two of the Council of Elders are dead. Two more are so badly injured they won't be able to serve." She lets you hang for a moment. [["We apologize - "->PC36]] "He is dead. His replacement saved the lives of many...others." She doesn't meet your eyes here, uncomfortable, you think, with including herself in that group. "I think it is best if we let sleeping demons die." [["Of course."->PC46]] [["I'll have to tell my queen."->PC47]] "//After// you return to the $mykingdom $kingdom," the Countess insists. She looks at you sharply and waits for you to nod. "Good." She takes a breath. "There is still the matter of the last dark mage - [["What?->WhatMage]]

"He is dead. His replacement saved the lives of many...others." She doesn't meet your eyes here, uncomfortable, you think, with including herself in that group. "I think it is best if we let sleeping demons die." [["Of course."->PC46]]

"Good." The Countess nods, the matter closed. She takes a breath. "But that is not why I asked for you. I wanted to convey to you personally. Your merchants will be released tonight. An hour, not more." A great weight lifts off your shoulders, though you can't yet throw it off completely. [["But the duke said - "->PC5]]

"//After// you return to the $mykingdom $kingdom," the Countess insists. She looks at you sharply and waits for you to nod. "Good." She takes a breath. "But that is not why I asked for you. I wanted to convey to you personally. Your merchants will be released tonight. An hour, not more." A great weight lifts off your shoulders, though you can't yet throw it off completely. [["But the duke said - "->PC5]]

"Thank you." The Countess nods, her expression on the tasks before her. "It won't be formal till tomorrow," she admits. "It should be quick. I had most of them already. Helping you, holding a gods-blessed //pike// in my hands again - that was just scales on the dragon." She smiles again, but worry etches its corners. [["You'll be a great duchess."->PC9]]

test start (set: $Countess's following to true) (set: $Havek's following to true) (set: $Mystics's following to true) [[Go!->PostFinalFightOnlyDuke]]

Mackenzie gestures vaguely at the fortress. "The duke is dead. A lot of the 'players'" - another gesture, less flattering than the first - "are too. You might not see it, but Zterre is about to go into crisis." She settles her elbows again on the wall. "An opportunity, for an ambassador," she says, giving you a full and meaningful look. [["I don't follow."->WMD2]]

"I know what Zagreb would do," Mackenzie replies. "'//The $mycolor $kingdom firmly supports the (if: $Countess's following)[Countess](else:)[the successor]//'. In exchange for certain promises and future influence, of course." Her tone makes it clear what she thinks of this option. A warm wind blows out of the cave-dark desert. [["It's Zterre's decision."->YoudThinkSo]] [["I'm not Zagreb."->NotZagreb]] [["What do you think?"->MackenzieThought]]

"No," Mackenzie agrees with a long look and slight smile, "you're not." A brief wind tickles her hair. You search for a better answer. [["What about you?"->MackenzieThought]] [["It's Zterre's decision."->YoudThinkSo]] [["It should be the Countess."->YoudThinkSo]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"Oh, this'll be great for me," Mackenzie says with a bounce in her voice that feels forced. "I'll write about tonight - probably a half a dozen pieces, first-hand acounts, perspective, conspiracies. If I'm lucky the new duke or duchess won't try to burn me for making them look like a coward. If I'm not, well, there's always the $mycolor $mykingdom." [["What about, you know, personally?"->MackenziePersonal]]

Mackenzie smiles enigmatically. Do we want romance/ I think we hinted - but now we're disillusioned, and tired. I think no. "Huh." Mackenzie grunts. Her smile flees and she shifts her weight. "I dunno. Depends a bit on the new Duchess. Keep writing, try to keep my head out of the sand." She laughs, a little awkwardly. [["You could come to the $mycolor $kingdom"." Mackenzie chuckles softly. "And start over," she asks, not really looking for your answer. She shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry, ambassador, but I'm staying here. For better or worse." [["But the duke - " "Will have to catch me, first." Mackenzie says, and there's a glint in her eye that's not the torchlight. "Maybe you've never met a tableteer before. But we're damn hard to kill. And even harder to silence." She grins, and it's a wicked grin. [[Are you sure?"-> "Sure as cement," Mackenzie says firmly. "Relax, ambassador. I'm not one of your precious merchants. You don't have to save me." [["Actually, I'd say you saved //me//." [["Don't worry, I won't." "Good." Mackenzie flashes a grin. "Now, ambassador. Your merchants are rescued and the new duchess owes you big. I'd say you're officially off duty now. Yes?" [["Yes? [["Depends what happens off duty." [["Atually Mackenzie pushes herself off the low wall. She wobbles her now-empty goblet in her hand and gives you an exaggerated look. "I have drinks in my room." She says. "Then you can //definitely// drink." "It start "Well [["Can I help?" "You can help," Mackenzie says, "by wiping that serious frown off your face. Dammit, we survived. You kicked some ass. We're still alive, and we're here to be celebrating." [["Celebrate how?"

Mackenzie meets your gaze with light and intelligent eyes. You're not sure what she knows, and she lets you wriggle on her hook. [["How?"->HowSuccession]]  Mackenzie ending 3?-->[["I killed the duke."->MackenzieEndingYouKilledDuke]]

"Technically, an election by the council of Alders." Mackenzie shrugs her flared shoulders. "Reality? She survived and a lot of others didn't." You hesitate for a moment. [["Good."->YoudThinkSo]] [["Is that good?"->HS25]]

"Yes," Mackenzie agrees, but she's watching your eyes; a tableteer's habit, or something more. "You'd think so, wouldn't you." The hug of light from the dance-room casts most of her face in shadow. [["What do you mean?"->ExplainSuccessionCrisis]]

Mackenzie shrugs again. "He was an asshole." She's not the old duke." She gives you a look. "What about you?" A warm wind presses your stiffened clothes against your back.

Mackenzie watches your eyes for a long moment, as though looking for the truth of it. "Why?" she asks. The hug of light from the dance-room casts most of her face in shadow. [["For what he did tonight." Mackenzie nods slowly. "Judge, jury and executioner," she says, and her understanding is tempered by an even look. "Efficient." [["Because he was an asshole." [["It just felt right." Mackenzie stares at you. Her jaw moves once, and then she says, "And just like that. You didn't think what it would mean for the rest of us, did you?" "What do you mean?" "The duke is dead, as are most of those with the following and influence to take his place." She folds her arms across her chest. "You've never been in a succession crisis, have you?" [["No" [["Actually, I have" "It'll be a bloody mess. No heirs, thin claims, and soldiers with no one to follow. Fucking gods, Ambassador, but you've kicked us over the side." The warm wind tugs at your stained clothes. No one else is close, and Mackenzie's condemnation is colder than all the iced drinks of the night. [["Shit." "Shit," Mackenzie agrees, finishing her drink. "Still, you saved my ass. That means I won't write you up. For at least, I don't know, three weeks." [["Saying what?" "Saying exactly what I know," Mackenzie says evenly. "That you fought down skeletons and monsters. That you saved a lot of innocents. That you killed the man responsible." [["...Thanks." "Don't mention it." Her drink is finished. She eyes it theatrically; whirls it around in her hand. "Now if you don't mind, I think I'll go and have another drink."

Mackenzie stares at you. Her jaw moves once, and then she says, "The duke is dead, as are most of those with the following and influence to take his place." She folds her arms across her chest. "You've never been in a succession crisis, have you?" [["No"->NoSuccession]] [["Actually, I have."->HaveSuccession]]

"It'll be a fucking mess." Mackenzie waves her nearly-empty goblet; she looks a little drunk. "No heirs. Thin claims. A couple thousand soldiers with no one to follow." She seams to struggle for words through her emotion; emotion pent up and hidden for gods-know how long. "Fucking gods, Ambassador, but you've kicked us over the side," she finishes, and tosses the rest of her drink over the side of the wall. A warm wind tugs at your stained clothes. No one else is close, and Mackenzie's condemnation is colder than all the iced drinks of the night. (if: $Countess's saved is true)[[["What about the Countess?"->NSCountess]]] [["Shit."->NS2]]

"Then you knew it would be a fucking mess." Mackenzie waves her nearly-empty goblet; she looks a little drunk. "No heirs. Thin claims. A couple thousand soldiers with no one to follow." She seams to struggle for words through her emotion; emotion pent up and hidden for gods-know how long. "Fucking gods, Ambassador, but you've kicked us over the side," she finishes, and tosses the rest of her drink over the side of the wall. A warm wind tugs at your stained clothes. No one else is close, and Mackenzie's condemnation is colder than all the iced drinks of the night. (if: $Countess's following is true)[[["What about the Countess?"->NSCountess]]] [["Shit."->NS2]] (if: $Countess's killedduke is false)[[[//I// have?"->Ihave]]]

"Shit," Mackenzie agrees. She takes a breath. "Still, you saved my ass. I suppose I'd better thank you. Thanks." [["It was nothing."->MackenzieSummary]]

"And that's the way I'll write it," Mackenzie says, deadpan but with a knowing look in her eye. "The Ambassador from the $mycolor $kingdom. Fought down skeletons and monsters, rescued (if: $countinnocents is 0)[only those who were useful](else-if: $countinnocents <= 3)[the occasional innocent](else:)[innocents], and (if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[let the man responsible walk free](else:)[killed the mage responsible]." [["Seems harsh."->HarshSummary]] [["I like it."->FlatterSummary]]

"Is it?" Mackenzie asks innocently, but you know better. Her drink is finished. She pushes herself away from the wall, elbows lifting. Her look is rich with layered understanding, empathy even - and judgment, a wall between you that you might never bridge. "I'm a tableteer," she says, and her words land like stones as she steps away. "I just write it like I see it." And without another word, she leaves you on the terrace. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"It is," Mackenzie agrees. Her drink is finished. She pushes herself away from the wall, elbows lifting. "But it's the truth. And I'd say that calls for another drink. Ambassador?" [["Sure."->MackenzieMakeshiftBar]] [["I've had enough drinks tonight."->DoneDrinksMackenzie]]

"I know where there's more," Mackenzie says seriously, leading you off the terrace. You follow, braving the bright lights and smells and noise of a fortress that can't fall asleep. She leads you to something little more than a storeroom, to a cask with a shallow tap and a stain of spilled wine on the wood-slat floor. "Never trust a tableteer who doesn't," Mackenzie says, toasting you with her freshly-filled goblet. Your own is just as full, your goblet just as fine. The wine is a murderous red and smells boozy as hell. [["To survival." [["To Zterre." [["Absent Companions." [["Death to Assholes." Mackenzie snorts and raises her glass. "To survival," she agrees. The wine tastes richly of faraway summers and old dry oak. The air is warm and heavy, the quiet a welcome silence from the noise and chaos three floors above. One drink becomes two, and then three. Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest. [[Blink You follow her One drink becomes two, and then three. Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest.

"Fair enough," Mackenzie says. "But I sure as fuck haven't. Better be getting busy. Ambassador." The last words come with a half-serious raise of her goblet. You barely have time to nod. And Mackenzie sweeps her way off the terrace, disappearing into the lights and noise of the fortress behind you. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"I know where there's more," Mackenzie says seriously, leading you off the terrace. "Never trust a tableteer who doesn't." You follow, braving the bright lights and smells and noise of a fortress that can't fall asleep. She leads you to what seems to be a makeshift bar; a long-haired cook is serving drinks out of unmarked casks into anything that will hold them. "A toast," she prompts you, her goblet and yours both full with a wine of a muderous red. It smells boozy as hell. You're not entirely sure it's wine. [["To Survival."->ToastSurvival]] [["To Zterre."->ToastZterre]] [["Absent Companions."->ToastCompanions]] [["Death to Assholes."->ToastNotAssholes]] (set: $Mackenzie's leavingwith to true)

Mackenzie snorts and raises her glass. "To survival," she agrees. The wine tastes richly of faraway summers and old dry oak. You feel it go immediately to your head, wiping away the stress, the pain, the terror of the night. The bar is full, the chatter low; survivors paired off or in groups. One drink becomes two, and then perhaps more. The bartender switches from a barrel of red to a barrel of white. (if: $toldescapeplan is false)[Mackenzie tells you of her plans, for tomorrow and the days after... But your mind and memory make a blur of it.](else:)[Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest.] [[Blink->WakeBarMackenzie]]

"This fucking place," Mackenzie says. "Fine. To Zterre.". She raises her goblet and knocks it woodenly against yours. The wine tastes richly of faraway summers and old dry oak. You feel it go immediately to your head, wiping away the stress, the pain, the terror of the night. The bar is full, the chatter low; survivors paired off or in groups. One drink becomes two, and then perhaps more. The bartender switches from a barrel of red to a barrel of white. (if: $toldescapeplan is false)[Mackenzie tells you of her plans, for tomorrow and the days after... But your mind and memory make a blur of it.](else:)[Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest.] [[Blink->WakeBarMackenzie]]

"To absent companions," Mackenzie agres solemnly. "And vengeance for all." She knocks her glass against yours, firmly. She drinks and sniffs appreciatively. You take a (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"careful","thorough","appreciative","hurried") sip. The wine tastes richly of faraway summers and old dry oak. You feel it go immediately to your head, wiping away the stress, the pain, the terror of the night. The bar is full, the chatter low; survivors paired off or in groups. One drink becomes two, and then perhaps more. The bartender switches from a barrel of red to a barrel of white. (if: $toldescapeplan is false)[Mackenzie tells you of her plans, for tomorrow and the days after... But your mind and memory make a blur of it.](else:)[Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest.] [[Blink->WakeBarMackenzie]]

"Fuck, yes," Mackenzie agrees, knocking her glass against yours and instantly taking a long sip. "Death to Assholes. Fuck." She sips again, less carefully. The wine tastes richly of faraway summers and old dry oak. You feel it go immediately to your head, wiping away the stress, the pain, the terror of the night. The bar is full, the chatter low; survivors paired off or in groups. One drink becomes two, and then perhaps more. The bartender switches from a barrel of red to a barrel of white. (if: $toldescapeplan is false)[Mackenzie tells you of her plans, for tomorrow and the days after... But your mind and memory make a blur of it.](else:)[Your mind and memory make a blur of most of the rest.] [[Blink->WakeBarMackenzie]]

"I think we're fucked," Mackenzie says bluntly. [["What?->ExplainSuccessionCrisis]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"The Countess will replace Duke," Mackenzie says bluntly. "Duchess, I suppose. "You should know," Mackenzie says conversationally, "the Countess will be the next duke. [["I didn't do that!"->ND2]] [[Stare at Mackenzie->ND2]]

"She has a chance. Depends how she plays it." Mackenzie shrugs again. "She might put out that she did it herself. I wouldn't place any bets, though." [["Shit."->NS2]]

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"We found the book of summoning." Mev continues, maddeningly slowly. "It is safely in the guild-hall, now. I would prefer to burn it, but even the destruction of such a book is dangerous. Better locked away." He looks up, and you sense a hidden meaning in his words. (if: $Duke's ending is "in power")[[["Is that bad?"->MC35]] [["That's great."->MC3]]](else:)[[["That's great."->MCA1]]]

"Yes," Mev says firmly. Your time in the foreign service has done you well. You can't help but notice how careful Mev is being. That you are in a crowded room, but quite alone - ideal for talking in a way that can't be traced or overheard. You're glad of your training in $myskill; you serve yourself quickly, and follow Mev to a corner. You wait. And Mev says, "There were many other books." "Magic this, magic that," he continues, "Our mage was very well versed. Rather a generalist than a specialist. His was a project of months, or likely years." You dare a glance at Mev. He glances innocently back. There's something here - something you're missing. [["Wait...years?"->MCYears]] [["Wait a minute...whose room?"->MCWhoseRoom]]

"Yes," Mev agrees neutrally. Your time in the foreign service has done you well. You can't help but notice how careful Mev is being. That you are in a crowded room, but quite alone - ideal for talking in a way that can't be traced or overheard. You're glad of your training in $myskill; you serve yourself quickly, and follow Mev to a corner. You wait. And Mev says, "There were many other books." "Magic this, magic that," he continues, "Our mage was very well versed. Rather a generalist than a specialist. His was a project of months, or likely years." You dare a glance at Mev. He glances innocently back. There's something here - something you're missing. [["Wait...years?"->MCYears]] [["Wait a minute...whose room?"->MCWhoseRoom]]

"I queried two experts; that was their consensus. Naturally, there is a limit to what they could estimate with the time and information I gave them." He leaves you a moment to be impressed. But more importantly... [["But Zyxos arrived 3 months ago."->MCZyxosYears]]

"The duke's room," Mev answers seriously, and seeing the startled expression on your face, continues. "You understand the problem." Understanding crashes through your shattered system. Denial shakes in your throat; awareness shakes your tired shoulders. //If there were mage-books in the Duke's room...// [["The duke is a mage."->MCDropDuke2]]

Mev tilts his head. "Zyxos? We tossed his room, there was nothing. No, the books were in the duke's room." Understanding crashes through your shattered system. Denial shakes in your throat; awareness shakes your tired shoulders. [["The dukes??->MCDropDuke]] [["I knew it."->MCDropDukeAlt]]

Mev looks at you heavily. His eyebrows are drawn so tightly as to be almost touching. He doesn't say a word, clearly waiting for you to make a leap. Which your diplomat's training has no trouble making. [["The duke is a mage."->MCDropDuke2]]

Mev looks at you heavily. His eyebrows are drawn so tightly as to be almost touching. He doesn't say a word; he seems to be waiting for you to say it. [["The duke is a mage."->MCDropDuke2]]

Mev presses his lips closed expressively, but his face tells the story. His eyebrows bounce in acknowledgment; his eyes shine bright with fear. [["He fooled us."->DukeFooled]]

"Everyone," Mev correct you, and your $myskill saves you once again. "The mage was a proxy - a stooge. Talented, no doubt, but in effect only a shield. The man himself was in control." [["I'm an idiot."->MevAmIdiot]] [["There was no way to know."->MevNoKnowing]]

"Not necessarily," Mev replies, his voice not nearly so quiet; his expression turns warily sad. "The duke fooled everyone. And his secret will remain - //I//, for one, have no intention of spilling it." He rolls his head on his neck. "I value my head where it is." [["I have to tell my queen."->MCMustTellQueen]] [["I can keep it secret."->MCKeepSecret]]

"Agreed," Mev said. "But I am telling you now, so you will tell your queen. The duke is alive, dangerous and capable. She should not push him. The interests of the $mycolor $mykingdom should take this into account." [["I have to tell my queen."->MCMustTellQueen]] [["I can keep it secret."->MCKeepSecret]]

"Good," Mev replies, with some satisfaction. "But I advise you not to spread it here tonight. Anyone you tell, you put in danger." He waits for you to (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"nod","grunt","shrug irritably","look away"). "But you should tell your queen," Mev continues seriously. "The duke is alive, dangerous and capable. She should not push him. The interests of the $mycolor $mykingdom should take this into account." [["I'll tell her."->MCTellQueen2]]

"Good," Mev replies, with some satisfaction. "But you should tell your queen: the duke is alive, dangerous and capable. She should not push him. The interests of the $mycolor $mykingdom should take this into account." [["I'll tell her."->MCTellQueen2]]

"Good." Mev takes a bite of his soup. He wrinkles his face in surprise and something close to distaste. He looks over your shoulder, and you notice the room is somehow more crowded than before. "Then that is all I have to say. For tonight, my sincerest thanks. For the future, my heartfelt warning." Mev bows one final time, formal and perfect in the small space between you. "Goodbye, Ambassador." (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

You ask around for Mackenzie, but she fled. Duke survived, drop mage conspiracy. Duke dead, ' you were right.'

"Not especially," Mev admits. "There were many other books. Magic this, magic that. It's clear his was a project of months, or likely years. It's possible he used mage-work to become the duke." [["Yeah, how did that happen?"->MCASuccession]] [["How can I help?"->MCAHowHelp]]

"Bloodily," Mev answers simply. "We can hope that this round will be less so. But that remains to be seen." [["How can I help?"->MCAHowHelp]]

Mev shakes his head. "There is little more for your to do. I only wanted to express my thanks, and my support. Should you or the $mycolor $mykingdom ever need Zterre's perspective...I will make myself available." [["Thank you."->MCAThanks]]

"It is I who should be thanking you." Mev takes a bite of his soup. He wrinkles his face in surprise and something close to distaste. He looks over your shoulder, and you notice the room is somehow more crowded than before. His expressive eyebrows wiggle at some hidden joke. "I think, ambassador, I must retire," Mev says, and he bows one final time, formal and perfect. "I wish you the very best of futures. Good night." And the head of the merchant's guild slips dexterously away through the tightly-packed room. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

A Mackenzie writeup. "Heroics triumphed in at a recent royal gala in the Duchy of Zterre. [["Are you scared?"-> "Fuck, yes." Mackenzie says honestly. "We stood in a room and decided whether or not to kill him. I voted 'yes'. My blood's not worth two silvers here - I'm staying in public places and keeping my escape routes open." [["It's not that bad." [["That's probably a good idea." "You think?" Mackenzie snaps, waving her mostly-empty goblet. "Fucking power-hungry double-dealing Duke. He's going to be coming for me. For us. You know that, right?" [["He released the $mycolor merchants." Mackenzie rolls her eyes to the heavens. You suspect she might be drunk. "So you get what you wanted, then. Mission accomplished. //Fuck// you, ambassador." [["They were innocent!" Mackenzie snorts. "Oh come on, you don't really believe that," she says. She watches your face. "Fuck. You //do// really believe that. Let me tell you something about your bloody $mycolor merchants. They were //absolutely// selling izgan. Yeah, I know about izgan. And for your information, //ambassador//, over half the duchy's on the continent ban it completely. The other half restrict it - military, royal, whatever. Selling to anybody, selling to the duke's enemies - you wonder why the duke got so pissed?" She shakes her head. And slurps a quick slurp of her drink, apparently for fuel. "Sure, he was worries about his power base. And he had //this//," she waves her left arm grandly, "fucking night up his sleeve. But it wasn't just bullshit. Maybe they didn't deserve a duke's dungeon - but your $mycolor $mykingdom merchants absolutely were playing outside the lines. And your precious queen abso-fucking-lutely knew that when she sent you here." You <frown>, struggling to process everything she's said. [["That can't be right." [["Are you sure?" "I'm a fucking tableteer," Mackenzie snaps back, "not some idiot on the farm. //Yes//, I'm sure. And if you'd gods-damned //asked// me at some point before all this..." she waves the same arm again, apparently unable to think of a word to encompass all she's feeling, "I would have gods-damned told you. Instead of you asserting bloody perfection at every turn and to everybody who would listen." "I'm right." Mackenzie says firmly. "I'm a fucking tableteer, not some idiot on a farm. And I would have //told// you so, if you had fucking asked me, at any point before trading the strength of your merchants for the future of bloody Zterre!" She cracks her neck so hard you feel genuinely worried for her bones. [["We did what was right." "Ha!" Mackenzie laughs without humor. "What was right. You made a trade, pure and simple. Zagreb would be proud." You try to ignore the complex feeligns this brings up. [["We couldn't prove anything." Mackenzie blows her breath out heavily from her lungs. She seems to decide not to yell at you. "We had enough," she says instead, and her eyes glitter with something that's not starlight. "The Duke isn't new. This isn't the first time he's - you weren't here when he came to power. It was bloody scary then, too." She gulps another drink. Her goblet is gold, and shines dully in the starlight. [["I made a mistake." "You're damned right you did," Mackenzie agrees, but her eyes and expression soften. "Found out more, did you?" [["Yes." She lurches off the wall, straightening her shoulders; her eyes are alight with hungry light. "Watcha got?" [["The duke was a mage." Her eyes narrow as you explain. Her gaze shifts over your shoulder, growing distant as she listens. "Fuck," she breathes, ten seconds after you fall silent. "That would explain...but fuck. He actually pulled it off. Who told you?" [["Mev." [["I can't tell you." A ghost of a smile lights Mackenzie's features. "I guess I'll just have to trust you, then. Not that many people who could get into the duke's private quarters, anyway. Alright." She punts a short breath. "That's gold. Doesn't save us tonight, though. I hope your contact knows how to keep their head down." Mackenzie shakes her own head, putting a hand to the back of her neck and pulling at something there. Her dark curls fall from where they were pinned and frame her shoulders beautifully. "I'm going to need your help," she tells you. [["With what?" [["I can't fix your hair." Mackenzie snorts. "Don't try," she says, "I've seen what you've done to yours." As you (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"grin","chuckle","giggle","cough awkwardly"), Mackenzie turns serious. "No," she says, "I want to go with you to the $mycolor $mykingdom. I've got to write this - but I can't do it from here. I can help your queen - there's lots I can share - but it needs to be soon. Tomorrow, if I can. I don't trust the duke as far as - shit, I don't trust him at all." She waits, her eyes rich with a mix of thoughts you can't read. [["Of course." "Your caravan leaves tomorrow," Mackenzie says, moving so quickly to details you suspect she doesn't want to linger. Or maybe this is just the way her mind works. "Late morning. I think it's better if neither you nor I disappear before then." A warm wind catches her hair and blows it under her chin. [["What did you have in mind?" Mackenzie snickers. She wobbles her now-empty goblet like a ball in her hand. "More drinks, to start." She proposes. Her eyes glow at you invitingly. [["You're on." [["Actually, I have more to do..." "Bastard," Mackenzie says pleasantly. "Well, you know where I'll be. Fletcher's bar on the eighth floor. //Don't// disappear on me," she commands you, spinning her goblet and bracing it with three fingers. "I'd hate to run your caravan myself." (blink) Someone shakes you awake. You find yourself blearily; your neck aches as you straighten your head. Your back is nearly as bad. The wood beneath your bones is narrow and unforgiving. "We're up," Mackenzie says, apparently steady on two feet. Her white blouse is a little too bright for your eyes. Her hair is a tumble with no form or function. "Come on. Your party leaves in an hour." You manage to stand. Your clothes feel tight and awkward; they're still stained. Looking around, you recognize the shape of the Fletcher's bar - a dozen casks that served as stools, an improvised bartop laid across three high casks. The bartender is sleeping behind the bar, curled in a tight and unobtrusive ball. "It worked," Mackenzie says, pulling on your elbow as your balance stuggles to find the sun. "We're still alive. No knives in our backs. Good job, us. Now we just have to get to the courtyard." [["My stuff-" "Not worth the snot you left with it," Mackenzie says firmly. "Trust me. We can send someone, if we get down soon enough. Come on." [[Follow her The courtyard is.. "Perfect," Mackenzie says. She cracks her neck as you step together into the light. Not a few eyes turn in your direction. Mackenzie snickers. "I've always loved an exit," she says. "This way. That's your caravan, right there." You folla press on one "Come on. [["The Countess fled." "Bully for her. Wish I knew how she did it." Mackenzie humphs and kicks one heel against the stone wall behind her. "Fuck."

You find Mackenzie on the outer wall, alone and looking out over the desert. She's changed. Her top is sleeveless, wrapped around her neck and flattering in the extreme. There's a darkness in her eyes that you think for a moment is just a trick of the light. Her posture is tense, her shoulders tight, as she turns defensively and rests her elbows on the stone balustrade. "He's still alive," Mackenzie says, before you get too close. A challenge, and a question, high in her glittering eyes. [["The duke?"->MPDIP2]]  (set: $toldescapeplan to false)

"You're damned right you did," Mackenzie agrees, but her eyes and expression soften. "Found out more, did you?" (if: $Mev's following)[[["Yes."->MPMistake2]]] (if: $triedkillduke)[[["There's more I haven't told you."->MPMistake2]]] [["It's just a feeling."->MPNotMistake]]

"You think?" Mackenzie snaps, waving her mostly-empty goblet. "Fucking power-hungry double-dealing Duke. He's going to be coming for me. For us. You know that, right?" The smell of open air is a balm to your tired skin. You take a moment just to breathe it in, to smell the desert, a thousand kilometers of dust and naked stone. You turn your gaze to Mackenzie. [["He released the $mycolor merchants."->MPReleasedMerchants]] [["We did what was right."->MPDidRight]] [["We couldn't prove anything."->MPCouldntProve]] (if: $Countess's following)[[["The Countess fled."->MPCountessFled]]] [["I made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]]

Mackenzie rolls her eyes to the heavens. You suspect she might be drunk. "So you get what you wanted, then. Mission accomplished. //Fuck// you, ambassador." [["They were innocent!"->MPR2]]

Mackenzie snorts. "Oh come on, you don't really believe that," she says. She watches your face. "Fuck," she says. "You really //do// believe that. Let me tell you something about your bloody $mycolor merchants. They were //absolutely// selling izgan. Yeah, I know about izgan. And for your information, //ambassador//, over half the duchy's on the continent ban it completely. The other half restrict it - military, royal, whatever. Selling to anybody, selling to the duke's enemies - you wonder why the duke got so pissed?" She shakes her head, and slurps forcefully on her drink. "Sure, he was worried about his power base. And he had //this//," she waves her left arm grandly, "fucking night up his sleeve. But it wasn't just bullshit. Maybe they didn't deserve a duke's dungeon - but your $mycolor $mykingdom merchants absolutely were playing outside the lines. And your precious queen abso-fucking-lutely //knew that// when she sent you here to get them out." You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"frown","grimace","squint","shift your gaze"), struggling to process everything she's said. [["That can't be right."->MPRCantRight]] [["Are you sure?"->MPRAreSure]] (set: $heardizgan to true)

"I'm a fucking tableteer," Mackenzie snaps back, "not some idiot on the farm. //Yes//, I'm sure. And if you'd gods-damned //asked// me at some point before all this..." she waves the same arm again, apparently unable to think of a word to encompass all she's feeling, "I would have gods-damned told you. Instead of you asserting bloody perfection at every turn and to everybody who would listen." She cracks her neck so hard you feel genuinely worried for her bones. [["We did what was right."->MPDidRight]] [["We couldn't prove anything."->MPCouldntProve]]

"I'm right." Mackenzie says firmly. "I'm a fucking tableteer, not some idiot on a farm. And I would have //told// you so, if you had fucking asked me, at any point before trading the strength of your merchants for the future of bloody Zterre!" She cracks her neck so hard you feel genuinely worried for her bones. [["We did what was right."->MPDidRight]] [["We couldn't prove anything."->MPCouldntProve]] [["I might have made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]]

"Ha!" Mackenzie laughs without humor. "What was right. You made a trade, pure and simple. Zagreb would be proud." You try to ignore the complex feelings this brings up. (if: $couldntprove is false)[[["We couldn't prove anything."->MPCouldntProve]]] [["I made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]] [["Let's talk about something else."->MPChangeSubject]] (set: $wasright to true)

Mackenzie blows her breath out heavily from her lungs. A moment passes, and she seems to decide not to yell at you. "We had enough," she says instead, and her eyes glitter with something that's not starlight. "The Duke isn't new," she continues. "This isn't the first time - you weren't here when he came to power. It was bloody scary then, too." She gulps another drink. Her goblet is gold, and shines dully in the starlight. (if: $wasright is false)[[["We did what was right."->MPDidRight]]] [["I made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]] [["Let's talk about something else."->MPChangeSubject]] (set: $couldntprove to true)

"You're damned right you did," Mackenzie agrees, but her eyes and expression soften. "Found out more, did you?" (if: $Mev's following or $triedkillduke)[[["Yes."->MPMistake2]]] [["No, you just convinced me."->MPYoureConvinced]]

She lurches off the wall, straightening her shoulders; her eyes are alight with hungry light. "Watcha got?" [["The duke was a mage."->MPMistake3]]

Her eyes narrow as you explain. Her gaze shifts over your shoulder, growing distant as she listens. "Fuck," she breathes, ten seconds after you fall silent. "That would explain...but fuck. He actually pulled it off. Who told you?" (if: $Mev's following)[[["Mev."->MPMistakeWasMev]]] [["I can't tell you."->MPMistakeCantTell]] (if: $triedkillduke)[[["I tried to kill him."->MPTriedKillDuke]]]

"He's a bloody sailor." A ghost of a smile lights Mackenzie's features; apparently this is a compliment. "Alright," she continues, "That's gold. Doesn't save us tonight, though. I think he knows enough to keep his own head down." Mackenzie shakes her own head, putting a hand to the back of her neck and pulling at something there. Her dark curls fall from where they were pinned and frame her shoulders beautifully. "I'm going to need your help," she tells you. [["With what?"->MPHelpHow]] [["I can't fix your hair."->MPCantHair]]

A ghost of a smile lights Mackenzie's features. "I guess I'll just have to trust you, then. Not that many people who could get into the duke's private quarters, anyway. Alright." She punts a short breath. "That's gold. Doesn't save us tonight, though. I hope your contact knows how to keep their head down." Mackenzie shakes her own head, putting a hand to the back of her neck and pulling at something there. Her dark curls fall from where they were pinned and frame her shoulders beautifully. "I'm going to need your help," she tells you. [["With what?"->MPHelpHow]] [["I can't fix your hair."->MPCantHair]]

"I want to go with you to the $mycolor $mykingdom," she says, quickly and clearly. "I've got to write this - but I can't do it from here. I can help your queen - there's lots I can share - but it needs to be soon. Tomorrow, if I can. I don't trust the duke as far as - shit, I don't trust him at all." She waits, her eyes rich with a mix of thoughts you can't read. [["Of course."->MPCaravanAccept]]

Mackenzie snorts. "Don't try," she says, "I've seen what you've done to yours." As you (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"grin","chuckle","giggle","cough awkwardly"), Mackenzie turns serious. "No," she says, "I want to go with you to the $mycolor $mykingdom. I've got to write this - but I can't do it from here. I can help your queen - there's lots I can share - but it needs to be soon. Tomorrow, if I can. I don't trust the duke as far as - shit, I don't trust him at all." She waits, her eyes rich with a mix of thoughts you can't read. [["Of course."->MPCaravanAccept]]

"Your caravan leaves tomorrow," Mackenzie says, moving so quickly to details you suspect she doesn't want to linger. Or maybe this is just the way her mind works. "Late morning," she continues. "I think it's better if neither you nor I disappear before then." A warm wind catches her hair and blows it under her chin. [["What did you have in mind?"->MPInMind]]

Mackenzie snickers. She wobbles her now-empty goblet like a ball in her hand. "More drinks, to start." She proposes. Her eyes glow at you invitingly. [["You're on."->MPMoreDrinks]] [["Actually, I have more to do..."->MPDeclineDrinks]]

"Bastard," Mackenzie says seriously. "Well, you know where I'll be. Fletcher's bar on the eighth floor. //Don't// disappear on me," she commands you, spinning her goblet and bracing it with three fingers. "I'd hate to run your caravan myself." (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

Someone shakes you awake. You find yourself blearily; your neck aches as you straighten your head. Your back is nearly as bad. The wood beneath your bones is narrow and unforgiving. "We're up," Mackenzie says, apparently steady on two feet. Her white blouse is a little too bright for your eyes. Her hair is a tumble with no form or function. "Come on. Your party leaves in an hour." You manage to stand. Your clothes feel tight and awkward; they're still stained. Looking around, you recognize the shape of the Fletcher's bar - a dozen casks that served as stools, an improvised bartop laid across three high casks. The bartender is sleeping behind the bar, curled in a tight and unobtrusive ball. "It worked," Mackenzie says, pulling on your elbow as your balance stuggles to find the sun. "We're still alive. No knives in our backs. Good job, us. Now we just have to get to the courtyard." [["My stuff-"->WBStuff]] [["Let's go."->WBM2]]

"Not worth the snot you left with it," Mackenzie says firmly. "Trust me. We can send someone, if we get down soon enough. Come on." [[Follow her->WBM2]]

The courtyard is packed with noise and animals and people. Dozens and dozens of them, moving with direction and purpose, loading the three giant wagons, tending the sixteen giant camels, and generally kicking up dust and yelling at each other. The morning sun is bright and warm on your exposed skin. A scratch of desert dust lands in your throat. "Perfect," Mackenzie says. She cracks her neck as you step together into the light. Not a few eyes turn in your direction. "They're ready to go - wonder if they'd have waited for you." An attendent - little more than a teenager, solidly built and with a dust-mask hanging loose from one ear - hurries up to you both. Her eyes flick over your dishelved state with the in-build judgement of the young. "Ambassador," she says, a little formally, with a touch of annoyance not quite buried in her tone, "They told me you'd gone. Run into the desert, or something." Her expression shows quite plainly what she thinks of that idea. "Thanks the watchers you didn't. We're ready to go. Just get your ass - get on board," she catches herself, looking irritated. "And we'll get going." [["We will."->AddMackenzie]]

"Bully for her. Wish I knew how she did it." Mackenzie humphs and kicks one heel against the stone wall behind her. "Fuck," she repeats. [["He released the $mycolor merchants."->MPReleasedMerchants]] [["I made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]]

A long look, then a ghost of a smile plays across Mackenzie's strong features. Her eyes dance with something close to satisfaction. A warm wind gusts from the wall and tugs at your clothes. "Is that right," she asks, masking her belief with deliberate suspicion. "Why, exactly?" [["He was an asshole."->MPAsshole]] [["He acted guilty."->MPActedGuilty]]

"Fuck, yes," Mackenzie says honestly. "We stood in a room and decided whether or not to kill him. I voted 'yes'. My blood's not worth two silvers here - I'm staying in public places and keeping my escape routes open." [["It's not that bad."->MP22]] [["That's probably a good idea."->MP25]]

"Huh." Mackenzie grunts. Her smile flees and she shifts her weight. "I dunno. Depends a bit on the new Duchess. Keep writing, try to keep my head out of the sand." She laughs, a little awkwardly. [["You could come to the $mycolor $kingdom."->MPDN2]]

A stunned look crosses Mackenzie's expression. You explain quickly, (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"not really proud of","secure in","embarassed by","certain of") your choices. She hesitates for several long seconds before she answers. "Fucking gods, ambassador," she declares finally. "If that got out... it //is// gold, though. Pity I can't write it." Mackenzie shakes her head slowly. "Nope. Definitely can't write it. Start a war between Zterre and the $mycolor $mykingdom." She shakes her head again. "Doesn't save us tonight, though. Though that does make this next part easier." [["Which is what?"->MPTKD2]]

The look in Mackenzie's eyes is nothing short of sharklike. A spark of nerves run through your tired neck. "I'm going to need your help," she tells you. [["With what?"->MPHelpHow]]

Mackenzie chuckles softly. "And start over," she asks, not really looking for your answer. She shakes her head. "No. I'm sorry, ambassador, but I'm staying here. For better or worse." [["But the duke - "->MPDN3]]

"Will have to catch me, first." Mackenzie says, and there's a glint in her eye that's not the torchlight. "Maybe you've never met a tableteer before. But we're damn hard to kill. And even harder to silence." She grins, and it's a wicked grin. [["Are you sure?"->MPDN4]]

"Sure as cement," Mackenzie says firmly. "Relax, ambassador. I'm not one of your precious merchants. You don't have to save me." [["Actually, I'd say you saved //me//."->MPDN55]] [["Don't worry, I won't."->MPDN5]] (set: $Mackenzie's ending to "fled")

Mackenzie raises her now-empty glass. "You know I did," she says, with a smirk and a shadow behind it. "But that was before. The duke is back, now, and I need to watch my own back. You be sure and watch yours." The last words come with a half-serious raise of her goblet. You barely have time to nod. And Mackenzie sweeps her way off the terrace, disappearing into the lights and noise of the fortress behind you. You have the distinct impression you might never see her again. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Good," Mackenzie says, knocking back the last of her drink. "Well, ambassador. It's been fun. But this is where I leave you. The duke is back, and that means I need to watch my own ass. You be sure and watch yours." The last words come with a half-serious raise of her now-empty goblet. You barely have time to nod. And Mackenzie sweeps her way off the terrace, disappearing into the lights and noise of the fortress behind you. You can't shake the feeling you'll never see her again. (link:"Blink")[ (set: $postCounter to it + 1) (if: $postCounter <= $posts's length)[ (goto: $posts's $postCounter) ] (else:)[ (goto: "AloneWakeCaravan") ]]

"Good," Mackenzie says seriously. "We'll hide there until this shit passes...follow me." You follow her off the terrace, braving the bright lights and smells and noise of a fortress that can't fall asleep. She leads you through narrow passages to what seems to be a makeshift bar. The low-ceiling room is nearly full, partiers and soldiers brush shoulders and share drinks over a dozen high-topped barrels. A long-haired cook is serving drinks out of three unmarked casks, to anyone and anything that will hold them. "A toast," Mackenzie prompts you, when her goblet and yours are both full with a wine of a muderous red. It smells boozy as hell. You're not entirely sure it's wine. [["To Survival."->ToastSurvival]] [["To Zterre."->ToastZterre]] [["Absent Companions."->ToastCompanions]] [["Death to Assholes."->ToastNotAssholes]]

"Fine," Mackenzie replies. She shifts her hips and her look is nothing short of defensive. "What do //you// want to talk about?" [["What will you do now?"->MPDoNow]]

A long look, then a ghost of a smile plays across Mackenzie's strong features. Her eyes dance with something close to satisfaction. A warm wind gusts from the wall and tugs at your clothes. "Did I," she says, and she masks her belief with deliberate suspicion. "How?" [["He was an asshole."->MPAsshole]] [["He acted guilty."->MPActedGuilty]] (if: $heardizgan is true)[[["What you just said. About izgan."->MPAboutIzgan]]]

Mackenzie snorts. "Aren't we all," she says. "That's not a crime." She waits, then chuckles at your expression. "But I'll take it. You're forgiven, ambassador. Though you'd better keep it under your hat." [["He fooled us."->MPYeahFooled]] [["I'm a fucking idiot."->MPNotIdiot]]

Mackenzie nods, slowly. "That ambassador's instinct," she says. "There might be saving you yet. I agree. If you ever played cards, you'd know he had tells." A distant laugh filters up from a level below. Goosebumps rise softly on your skin. [["He fooled us."->MPYeahFooled]] [["I'm a fucking idiot."->MPNotIdiot]]

Mackenzie nods slowly. She lets out a breath. "I should have told you," she admits. "//Figures// Zagreb wouldn't - but he knew you better than I did. Knew you'd change your mind, if you knew." The starlight paints dark shadows on her face. [["He fooled us."->MPYeahFooled]] [["I'm a fucking idiot."->MPNotIdiot]]

"Yeah, he did," Mackenzie agrees. "But that's what you need a good tableteer for. Get the truth out, and cut through the crap." She smirks at your expression. "But that's for later. Tonight, we have a problem." [["A problem?"->MPYeahDuke]]

"Nah," Mackenzie reassures you. "No more than the rest. It's up to us tableteers to get the truth out, anyway." She smirks at your expression. "But that's for later. Tonight, we have a problem." [["What's that?"->MPYeahDuke]]

"The Duke," Mackenzie declares. "He's tired now, but he's after my ass. And yours, and everyone else who got into that room." Mackenzie shakes her own head, putting a hand to the back of her neck and pulling at something there. Her dark curls fall from where they were pinned and frame her shoulders beautifully. "I have a plan," she says confidently. "But I'm going to need your help." [["With what?"->MPHelpHow]] [["I can't fix your hair."->MPCantHair]] (set: $toldescapeplan to true)

"You think?" Mackenzie snaps, waving her mostly-empty goblet. "Fucking power-hungry double-dealing Duke. He's going to be coming for me. For us. You know that, right?" [["He released the $mycolor merchants."->MPReleasedMerchants]] [["We did what was right."->MPDidRight]] [["We couldn't prove anything."->MPCouldntProve]] (if: $Countess's following)[[["The Countess fled."->MPCountessFled]]] [["I made a mistake."->MPMyMistake]]

"Who do you think?" Her voice could cut steel. "He's down for now, but he'll be up before you know it. This bloody night isn't over yet." It's late. You're not sure how late; you've seen and felt more tonight than anyone should feel in a year. You lean against the stone balustrade yourself and stretch your fingers on the solid stone. Up close, Mackenzie's emotion is easy to read. She's tense as a startled mountain cat, and just as rattled; the darkness on her eyes is a deliberate mask that can't hide the courseness in her voice. [["Are you worried?"->MP1]] [["We saved him."->MPWeSaved]]  (set: $couldntprove to false) (set: $wasright to false) (set: $releasedmerchants to false)  (set: $heardizgan to false)

"//You// saved him," Mackenzie corrects you. "I stood in a room voted to kill him. He's not exactly the type to forget that." She shakes her head, bitter in the starlight. "My blood's not worth two silvers here," she continues. "So I'm staying in public places and keeping my escape options open." [["It's not that bad."->MP22]] [["That's probably a good idea."->MP25]]

The attendant flicks a glance at Mackenzie. Mackenzie smiles blazingly back. "Whatever," the attendant says, turning away. "Just get yourself on board." [[Load up.->ToCaravan]]

"Yeah no it wasn't. Fuck," Mackenzie says again, her eyes going around the room. "We are so fucked." [["What the hell is going on?"->MackenzieGoingOn]]

"That," Mev says, "was rather spectacular. Ambassador from the $mycolor $kingdom, are you." He looks you over with exaggerated respect. He bows, a merchant's bow that doesn't leave the eyes. "It seems you have a fighting chance. Better than most, anyway. My compliments to your honor guard." [["Honor guard?"->RM3]]

Mev looks at Mackenzie (if: $Mystics's following)[, Tarissa](if: $Havek's following)[, Havek](if: $Countess's following)[and the Countess]. His eyebrows rise, and his beard doesn't hide his disbelief. "I know a hand-picked team when I see it," he says finally, but with approval. "Not judging. No one better to put a stop to all //this//," he tucks his beard at your surroundings, "and doing it better than anyone else I can see. To be honest, I'm not sure you need any help." He shrugs, feigned nonchalance that doesn't convince you. "But I would follow you, if you could find a way out tonight." [["Agreed. Follow me."->RMMevJoins]] [["You'd slow us down."->RMRejectMev]]

"On you," Mev agrees, a sudden military phrase that catches you by surprise. He settles into what looks like a 'ready' stance. His glass bottle glints dark in the light. "Welcome to the club," Mackenzie says drily, rolling her shoulders and shaking them loose; her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) low in one hand. Mev chuckles, deep in his throat. "Tell me that when we get out alive," he says. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]] (set: $Mev's following to true)

Mev chuckles, dry and humorless. "Your choice, ambassador. We will see each other again." He doesn't wait for your to answer, but moves - with surprising dexterity - between a tall pair of potted plants and into what looks distinctly like an ambush. Mackenzie clears her throat beside you. "Time to go," she says neutrally. [[Look around->LookAround]] (if: $droppedweapondm's type is not "none")[[[Look for weapons->LookForWeapons]]]

On pounding feet you race across the room. Mev's eyes catch yours like a bear's in a cave, and a moment later you see a flicker of movement behind the last plant. The golem sees it too. With a grunt it stabs its long pike - shattering the earthen canister in a spray of dirt and clay and stems. For a moment, Mev's form is exposed - uninjured, but no longer hidden. And the golem's back is to you. (if: $myweapondm's type is not "mace")[[[Land a flying jump->MevFlyingJump]]] (if: $Mystics's following)[[[Charge!->MevSyncAttackMystics]]] [[Syncronize your attack->MevSyncAttackNormal]] (set: $monster to "speckled golem") (set: $monsterweapondm to $threemeterpike) (set: $droppedweapondm to $threemeterpike)  (set: $Mev's tried to true)

You take the last step and launch yourself fully into the air. Your $myweapon sings in the sudden wind - you change your grip, now punching downward - and the (print: $myweapondm's type) stabs deep into the golem's broad flesh. Your feet land low on it's back and your momentum slams your knees a moment higher. For a moment you hold there, your weapon down between your knees - and then you fall, straight backwards, to slam onto the floor. The golem wobbles. Your (print: $myweapondm's type) stands like a ship-mast out of it's back. The golem takes a single step, and the weight of it vibrates through the wooden floor and into the back of your head. And then the golem falls, more forward than down, half-catching itself on a giant potted plant and shattering it's claywork just like the first. Collapsing in a heap, it takes you two long breaths to realize it's down for good. You scramble to your feet, still breathing hard. [[Recover your weapon->MevRecoverWeaponNormal]]

All it takes is a glance. Mackenzie matches pace with you (if: $Havek's following)[, Havek on the other side]; Tarissa raises one arm and prepares to attack. You launch on a breath and in the same half second you all reach the golem. Tarissa's light shines suddenly bright, a beam of golden summer shining like a hooded lantern straight at the golem's fat head. Your (print: $myweapondm's name) connects with the golem's broad back two moments later, but you almost needn't have bothered. Slick chunks of mudlike clay slop down from the creature's thick shoulders and fall squishily onto the floor. It's feet don't move an inch. Tarissa's light goes out. The golem stands like a stone, solidly balanced on two broad feet. Its shoulders meet in a bowl of melted clay. Where the creature's head used to be, there is nothing. [[Continue->RescueMevTarissa]]

All it takes is a glance. Mackenzie matches pace with you (if: $Havek's following)[, Havek on the other side](if: $Mystics's following)[; the Countess steps up her pace with her (print: $Countess's weapon) forward]. You launch on a breath and in the same half second you all reach the golem. Your (print: $myweapondm's type) thumps terribly into the golem's broad back. Mackenzie's (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) hits high in its shoulder. (if: $Havek's following)[Havek's (print: $Havek's weapon) sinks deeply into the creature's clay.](if: $Countess's following)[The countess's (print: $Countess's weapon) drives solidly home.] The momentum of your charge makes your impacts all the stronger. And the golem falls in a heap. [[Continue->RescueMevP2Alt2]]

You step the last few steps with a faint disbelief. You look at Tarissa, whose eyes are still fixed on the golem. Her fingers grip the pendant at her throat like it's a lifeline. Her other hand flexes and stretches, catlight. "That," says Mev's voice, "is why I'm not religious." He steps around the golem's standing form, taking in your little group with a slight bow and a discerning gaze. "Ambassador," he says. [["You're welcome."->RescueMevP2]]

Stepping forward quickly, you reach the handle of your (print: $myweapondm's type) and yank it out (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"firmly","regretfully","indifferently","warily","joyfully"). A thickly-bearded face appears from the wreckage of the plant-pots. Mev ruffles plant-dirt out of his collar and shakes his head ruefully. "That," he says approvingly, "was rather spectacular." [["Thanks."->RescueMevP2Alt]]

"Ambassador from the $mycolor $kingdom, are you," Mev looks you over with exaggerated respect. He bows, a merchant's bow that doesn't leave the eyes. "It seems you have a fighting chance. Better than most, anyway. My compliments to your honor guard." [["Honor guard?"->RM3]]

A shadow moves, and Mev steps out from between the shattered pots. He ruffles brown soil from his collar and looks down at the unmoving golem. He takes in your little gorup with a slight bow and a discerning gaze. "Ambassador from the $mycolor $kingdom, are you," he says approvingly. He looks you over with exaggerated respect. He bows, a merchant's bow that doesn't leave the eyes. "It seems you have a fighting chance. Better than most, anyway. My compliments to your honor guard." [["Honor guard?"->RM3]]

"That's impossible," he declares, but there's no certainty in his tone. "They lock from the inside. What kind of a ballroom has locks on the //outside//?" "It's spellwork, you dumbass," says Mackenzie, rapidly losing her grin. "You see that shit on the door? That's a spell. Not getting through that without dropping the mage." She points with her chair-leg, her chest heaving. "You try to get out and you're dead," she says. "You're wrong," the handsome man declares. "Watch me." He starts to run. [[Follow him->FollowToDoors]] [[Stay where you are.->StayDoors]]

You follow the handsome man as he darts quickly across the open floor. There's a small crowd there already - a half-dozen partiers, pushing and shoving and pounding on the door. You're close enough to see the handsome man charge right up to the doors and shove aginst them with all his strength. It doesn't work. His hands slip, as though he's pushing on soap. He tries again, and then a third time. "Idiot," Mackenzie says dismissively. The crowd around you suddenly scatters ike a school of fish. The handsome man flees with them. A skeleton appears in their wake, red-eyed and swinging a long-spiked mace like a scythe. Red blood drips from its mace-spikes. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $longspikedmace) (set: $followpsg to "SavedJournalist2")

The handsome man darts quickly across the open floor. Skeletons are stepping through the portal in ones and twos and threes. The few armed partiers are breaking for the corner; not a few are crowded around the various doors. You watch the handsome man reach the doorway and shove with what looks like all his strength. It doesn't work. His hands slip, as though he's pushing on soap. He tries again, and then a third time. "Idiot," Mackenzie says, as the crowd around the door suddenly scatters. A skeletons wanders over, large mace swinging like a scythe; partiers run, tripping over their inefficient shoes and wobbling in their liquor. She sighs. Your eyes meet. [[Attack the skeleton->FightSkeletonAtDoor]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

With a grunt you a launch yourself forward, covering the space to the magically-sealed doors in seconds. The handsome man is nowhere to be seen. A partier with shoes as high as her ankles scrambles back to her feet and hurries off towards a growing group of soldiers. The single skeleton pivots to face you, it's long-spiked mace already dripping with blood. [[Fight!->FightLoop]] (set: $monster to "skeleton") (set: $monstercount to 1) (set: $monsterweapondm to $longspikedmace) (set: $followpsg to "SavedJournalist2") (set: $turns to it + 1)

Skip to a section. Available while the full game is in beta. Skip to: [[Portal Opens->TriggerMain]]

Please take a moment as we return you to a magical world. Characters initialized. Monsters constructed. Party resuming... [[Resume->TriggerMain]]

Initializing conclusion, with all followers. The duke is DEAD. [[Continue->WhatNowSoldier]] (set: $Mackenzie's following to true) (set: $Mackenzie's saved to true) (set: $Countess's following to true) (set: $Countess's saved to true) (set: $Mystics's following to true) (set: $Mystics's saved to true) (set: $Mev's following to true) (set: $Mev's saved to true) (set: $Havek's following to true) (set: $Havek's saved to true) (set: $Pretty's saved to true) (set: $Duke's ending to "dead")

Initializing conclusion, with all followers. The duke is in power. [[Continue->WhatNowSoldier]] (set: $Mackenzie's following to true) (set: $Mackenzie's saved to true) (set: $Countess's following to true) (set: $Countess's saved to true) (set: $Mystics's following to true) (set: $Mystics's saved to true) (set: $Mev's following to true) (set: $Mev's saved to true) (set: $Havek's following to true) (set: $Havek's saved to true) (set: $Pretty's saved to true) (set: $Duke's ending to "in power")

Amram puffs his chest importantly. "Go. Find others, and send them here. We must save as many as we can." "You will fail," Havek says with malice in his voice. His knuckles grow tight on his (print: $Havek's weapon). "We will not fail," Amram answers him firmly. "We will defend this door to the last. With luck, the duke will find - " "The duke?" Havek bursts out in a snarl of his own making. "The duke is the architect, you light-blinded fool! There is nothing he will do that he has not already done! No help is coming. There is only //this// door, and here a mage with a portal to the netherworld - " "How can you say that?" Amram demands. "The duke will protect us. You'll see. Why would he abandon - " "Maybe you should ask him," Mackenzie cuts in bluntly. Amram stares, and splutters. [["Come with us."->GAK3]] [["We don't need him."->GAK35]]

"...No," Amram says after what's clearly a weighty moment, rejecting the allegation in Havek's words. "No, it cannot be. Our obligation is here - to defend this escape, to protect...I cannot go..." The second mystic steps forward. Her eyes light on yours like the the weight of a midnight sun. "I will," she says calmly. [["Great!"->GAK4]]

"'Need' is not the question,," Amram says after what's clearly a weighty moment. "What matters is what's right. What //her// intentions are...our obligation is here. It must be here. to defend this escape, to protect...I cannot go..." [["What about the portal?"->GAK45]] [["The duke has a mage."->CantFightMages]]

"No!" commands Amram, sudden fire in his voice. "Your strength is needed here. The goddess- " The mystic simply ignores him. With quick and careful steps, she crosses the space between you and Amram, with level chin and a brush of curling hair over her shoulder. She wears a pendant just like Amram's, tucked beneath her robe. Her belt is as wide as your fingers could spread, and cynches high above her waist. Its pattern is a simple weave of forest green and tree-plum purple. "Tarissa!" Amram commands like a petulant child. [[Continue->NeedHelpMystics3]]

Amram looks uncomfortable. The hesitation is longer this time. He looks over his shoulder at the narrow open doorway. "No," he says finally. "We cannot help you. The goddeess demands that we serve - that we remain here," he finishes rather weakly. The second mystic steps forward before you can answer. Her eyes light on yours like the the weight of a midnight sun. "I will help," she says calmly. [["Great!"->GAK4]] [["Thank you."->GAK4]]

Amram looks you in the eye. "Our place is here," he says. "Defending what we can. Providing where we can help." "Fool," Havek calls Amram. "You will do no help here." Amram sets his shoulders defensively. "I know where I am called." [["We can't fight the mages without you."->CantFightMages]]

Havek nods once in return. Turning on your toes, you hurry after Tarissa. She pauses some twenty steps away, her left hand high and fingers lifted, as though teasing the wind. "Ready?" Mackenzie asks, clamping up behind you. Her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) quivers slightly in her grip. Her eyes flick from yours to a tramping skeleton nearby, to the chaos of the room around you. She grinds one foot into the floor impatiently. [["We go for the portal."->ToPortalWithTarissa]] (if: $founddoor is true)[[["We go for the duke."->PreDukeDoorHavek]]] [["We should see how we can help."->LookAround]]

Turning on your toes, you hurry after Tarissa. She pauses some twenty steps away, her left hand high and fingers lifted, as though teasing the wind. "Ready?" Mackenzie asks, clamping up behind you. Her (print: $Mackenzie's weapon) quivers slightly in her grip. Her eyes flick from yours to a tramping skeleton nearby, to the chaos of the room around you. She grinds one foot into the floor impatiently. [["We go for the portal."->ToPortalWithTarissa]] (if: $founddoor is true)[[["We go for the duke."->PreDukeDoorHavek]]] [["We should see how we can help."->LookAround]]

Amram splutters. "The duke," Mackenzie prompts him and you both, but her expression lets you know what she thinks of the idea. (if: $Mev's following)[ "Yes, but where is he?" Mev asks equitably. He alone seems unaffected by Havek's betrayal; his eyes are clear, telling you to get a move on, already.] "The duke will help," Amram says, seizing on this anchor. "He //must// help." [["Where can we find him?"->WhereIsDukeFromKey]]

The second mystic steps forward. Her eyes are pools of midnight, her expression unreadable. Her voice is cool and unwavering. "You have a plan?" She suggests, in a tone that is not a question. [["We need to close the portal."->NeedClosePortalFromKey]] [["Save everyone we can."->TrySaveEveryone]]

Amram shakes his head. His whole frame seems to shudder. He can't stop glancing at the closed stone wall, as though expecting it to open. You're not that foolish. Mackenzie clears her throat impatiently. [["We need your help."->NeedHelpMystics2FromKey]] [["Alright, we're leaving."->SimpleLeaveMystics]]

"No shit," Mackenzie agrees. "Doesn't change what we've got to do next." She looks at you expectantly. "What can you do?" Amram asks, his whole frame shuddering. "This is the only exit. You need the duke - his key - " [["Where is the duke?"->WhereIsDukeFromKey]] [["Actually, we need your help."->NeedHelpMystics2FromKey]]

"A mage. Yes. We know." Amram bounces on his feet, forming his fingers into a circle. His eyes shift from yours. "Unfortunately, we cannot help -" "I can," says the second mystic, from behind Amram. Her eyes are pools of midnight. Her thoughts are unreadable. "No," commands Amram, "your strength is needed here - " The mystic simply ignores him. With quick and careful steps, she crosses the space between you and Amram, with level chin and a brush of curling hair over her shoulder. She wears a pendant just like Amram's, tucked beneath her robe. Her belt is as wide as your fingers could spread, and cynches high above her waist. Its pattern is a simple weave of forest green and tree-plum purple. "Tarissa!" Amram commands like a petulant child. [[Continue->NeedHelpMystics3]]

"Help? How can we help? The doorway is closed, we can save no one - " Amram fills the air with no sign of stopping. [["We need to close the portal."->NeedClosePortalFromKey]]

"You - what? Why?" You've surprised Amram out of his litany, and his eyes, for a moment, show sudden lack of fortitude. He hides it in a moment, but the moment stays with you. //"Why?"// Mackenzie asks, disbelieving. "Have you not seen - " she gestures, apparently lost for words. "Yes, but-" Amram begins. [["There's a mage guarding the portal."->NeedHelpPortalFromKey]]

The mystic nods, once. "No!" commands Amram, sudden fire in his voice. "Your strength is needed here. The goddess- " The mystic simply ignores him. With quick and careful steps, she crosses the space between you and Amram, with level chin and a brush of curling hair over her shoulder. She wears a pendant just like Amram's, tucked beneath her robe. Her belt is as wide as your fingers could spread, and cynches high above her waist. Its pattern is a simple weave of forest green and tree-plum purple. You feel more than feel Mackenzie give you a glance. "Tarissa!" Amram commands like a petulant child. [[Continue->NeedHelpMystics3]]

"Indeed," Havek agrees. "This task is not for fools. When the time comes, this door //must// be closed." He holds your gaze, so you cannot mistake his meaning. "You cannot hold this door," he continues, cold in his logic. "There too are many summons already here. Left open, it will release the creatures out into the fortress - and every man, woman and child here will perish." He glares at the thought. "I cannot let that happen. I //will// not let that happen." He doesn't even glance at Amram; his eyes are only for you. "This fool will." "Fool?" Amram curses, and you're not sure he means you or Havek. His eyes are glittering with rage. "He is one of them, can't you see! He cares nothing for the innocents. He will let himself free and lock the rest of us inside." "There is little time," Havek reminds you. [["Havek keeps the key."->HavekKeepsKey]] [["Give Amram the key."->GiveAmramKey]]

"Yeah, not an idiot," Mackenzie replies, straightening and waving her chair-leg menacingly. "Following you whether you like it or not." She shrugs her shoulders defensively, eyes determindly on the growing chaos around you. You (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"roll your eyes","smirk","curse irritably","grunt"), but Mackenzie takes no notice. You move together out into the room. [[Continue->LookAround]] (set: $Mackenzie's following to true)

Often, you will have the option to select from a set of options - a grey drop down menu. Click the menu once to view options, then click the option you want. Your selection will be saved and may have an impact later in the story. Dropdown menus add character and detail to your journey. However, you do not have to use them - the default values will always work, and major story branches will always be choices in gold. [["Let's try it!"->TryDropdown]]

Stretching your memory, you recall your journey to this fortress: weeks spent in the desert, riding high in an airless wagon or higher still on the back of a giant camel; baked by an unceasing sun and surviving on strictly-rationed water. The (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"agonizing","mind-numbing","revelatory") experience makes you all the more (dropdown: 2bind $myatt,"glad","annoyed","depressed") to be here in this calm, cool, non-dusty room. [["Got it!"->AmReady]]

As you suck in your breath, you terrified shudder runs through your tired arms. You look around for someone to save. But there is no one left. A sea of monsters - skeletons, golems and nightwolves - fill the room. The portal shifts to a deeper hue and shuts, winking out like a covered flame. The bald mage turns and stares unequivocally in your direction. The monsters begin to move. Their red and black eyes focus on you and your allies. They shuffle and stalk, dragging weapons of a bygone era. You and your allies are the only living creatures left in the room. (if: $exitopen)[ You look around for an exit, but there is none. Amram is gone, his doorway are closed.] "Well, fuck," Mackenzie says beside you. You raise your (print: $myweapondm's label), determined to go down swinging. [[Continue->FightHordeDeath]]

It doesn't take long. //Game Over// //You died failing to stop the horde in time! Try closing the portal sooner, and/or helping other characters.// [[Hints (includes spoilers)->HintsForPlaythrough]] [[Back to start->Initializing]] I failed to stop the horde in time. //Feel better; this is easily the most common ending/failure! You need to save/recruit either the mystics, Havek, or the countess before they are overwhelmed by the horde. Keep track of their number of guards - when they have only 1 left, they won't survive another round.// I died when I attacked the portal: //Try to save the mystics. If they are dead, talk to the Countess. If both the mystics and the Countess die, there is no way to close the portal (but you can still 'win')// I never saw (character): //Rules version: each Each character appears in a certain range of rounds I don't understand the logic: //In the chaos of the main sequence, events are ordered by turns. Each fight round takes 1 turn, and each conversation (before or after a fight) also takes 1 turn. Major characters are 'visible' for a predefined turn window: e.g. the Mystics will be alive from turn 10 to turn 20, after which they will be dead (unless you save them). Minor characters are visible only once - if you don't save them in the moment, they won't make it.// How can I use this? //Several ways. 1) Different weapons give you advantage (i.e. faster fights) vs. different monster types. You can maximize your choices by choosing a weapon to give you advantage in the upcoming fight - especially if you're going to be saving a character defended by several monsters. 2) Keep track of the hoose weapons to match your opponents, and note which monsters are attacking which characters. Matching a mace to a character threatened by skeletons

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"And why would that be?" Havek asks, with the expresion of a teacher waiting for a student. [["The mage who controls the summons is there."->WhereDuke2]]

"I see." Havek's smile returns, his eyes on your expression. "You mean the duke's //nacelle//. His secret room, for finding traitors and making unseen arrangements." Havek looks around, a peculiar pessimism in his smile. "He'll be in there. With the mage, and whoever he invited." [["How do I get there?"->HowEnterBossRoom]]

"And why would that be?" Havek asks, with the expresion of a teacher waiting for a student. [["The mage who controls the summons is there."->WhereDuke2]]

"In the duke's //nacelle//." Havek's smile returns, his eyes on your expression. "His secret room, for finding traitors and making unseen arrangements." Havek looks around, a peculiar pessimism in his smile. "He'll be in there. With whoever else he invited." [["How do I get there?"->HowEnterBossRoom]]

"Right," Mackenzie says, though she doesn't sound convinced. Several breaths pass as you both look around. The clang of metal on metal rises as loud as the music from moments before. The handsome partier joins a group at the door, punching uselessly against a shifting purple surface. "Fuck", Mackenzie says again. Abruptly she reaches up to the back of her head. She pulls her hair out of its twist with a single clawing motion, and her dark hair tumbles down over her shoulders. She shrugs out of her high-collared jacket and tosses it onto the nearest table. Catching your eye, she smirks a knowing smile. Her table-leg swings with a life of its own. "I'm with you," she says confidently. [["Follow me."->JournalistJoins]] [["We need to save everyone."->Cant]] (set: $followpsg to "LookAround")

"Yeah, I'm guilty too," Mackenzie admits. "Fucker had what he wanted the moment he opened that portal. No stopping him after that - not without sending Zterre into chaos. And he fucking knew it." She takes in your expression and answers it. "'Ambassador, you have everything to lose'", Mackenzie repeats the duke's last words. "He didn't mean your merchants. He meant a stable Zterre. A successful partner for your precious queen." Mackenzie shakes her head again. "Again, he's not the first. Take it from me," she finishes. "Dictators aren't that original." [["Shit."->IH2]]

"Yeah," Mackenzie agrees. "Still. We're alive and in one piece. I'm not hiding in some fucking bar or in the bottom of some desert-wagon. It's a win, at least for tonight." You think for a moment. You raise your glass. [["To winning."->IH3]]

Mackenzie clunks her wooden glass emptily against yours. "To fucking winning," she agrees. With a wink, she levers herself off the wall. "I'd say that calls for another drink," she invites you. [["Sure"->MackenzieMakeshiftBar]] [["Actually, I have more to do..."->DoneDrinksMackenzie]]