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<<nobr>>\ <<set $timelimit = false; $hay = false; $hut = false; $bandage = false; $goodtogo = false; $wait = false; $clothingstole = false>> <<unset $krenfollows, $guardfight, $dragged, $courtrule, $TJeffrey, $guardAnger, $negPrinceVibes, $lordAnger, $kAnswer = "unknown", $colfKing, $kingKnows, $sicknessKnown, $redhanded>> <</nobr>>\ <img src="images/five.png"> “We hereby proclaim, $name, guilty. And as punishment will <<if $noose>>face the hangman’s noose.”<<else>>spend the rest of ?his_ life in prison.”<</if>> Hope is executed on the spot. [[I’m not accepting this.][$care +=3]] [[Stare off into space.][$care -=3]] [[Try to hold in my tears.][$care +=3]]
<<if $noose>>\ I shake my head as if that means anything to these people. These people who have shown they are okay with condemning an innocent to death with nothing but the words from two servants who may have an ulterior motive. “I refuse to accept this,” I yell at them, aware of the two guards stiffening behind me, “I’m innocent!” “Judgment has been passed, $name,” the King says tiredly, “guards.” No. I refuse to be returned to that cell. Only then to be hauled through the town once more to die. I open my mouth to reject this judgment once again but realize that I sound like a hopeless bard. Shouting and singing the same words to a crowd who has moved on from my chants. <<else>>\ I shake my head as if that means anything to these people. They were okay with condemning an innocent to life in prison with nothing but the words from two servants who could have an ulterior motive. “I refuse to accept this,” I yell at them, feeling the two guards behind me stiffen as I speak, “I’m innocent!” “Consider this a mercy,” the King says in apparent disgust, “guards.” No. I couldn’t, I refuse to go back to that cell. Life in prison was a farce, I wouldn’t survive that long. They would throw me in the cell at the end and forget that I existed. I refuse to waste away in a cell, forgotten by all merely because I had a shortage of those who cared for me. <</if>>\ My eyes dart from one side of the court to the other. //“If you’re going to do something stupid,” I remember Master Audouin laughing, “then there can be no second thinking.”// It was made in response to me completing a lesson he had given me in an unconventional, and ridiculous way. I had made it harder than it was, and instead of chiding me, he watched with great interest. In the end, I successfully completed the lesson. After all these years, his words stuck with me far longer than whatever lesson I had achieved. I sigh, a small pensive grin on my lips, “your words still ring true.”
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> My mind and eyes are both far from this place. Hand in hand they walk the familiar roads that make up Akrisos. They wave to the generous bakers and the kind blacksmith. They chat for just a moment with the tailor and roll their eyes at Isaak who manages to spill all of the produce from his basket. They continue on until they come across a hut, inside a familiar Ecrid is busy, not noticing the figure that stands in the doorway. Such simpler times, and such a memory that will never be relived. I come back to the court, to my sentencing and all that it entails. My eyes dart from one side of the court to the other. //“If you’re going to do something stupid,” I remember Master Audouin laughing, “then there can be no second thinking.”// It was made in response to me completing a lesson he had given me in an unconventional, and ridiculous way. I had made it harder than it was, and instead of chiding me, he watched with great interest. In the end, I successfully completed the lesson. After all these years, his words stuck with me far longer than whatever lesson I had achieved. I sigh, a small pensive grin on my lips, “your words still ring true.”
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> I sniffle, viciously reprimanding myself as I do so. I would not cry. I would not give these people the satisfaction, though I feel they care little for that now. This would be the last they saw my face; they would not remember puffy eyes and tear-soaked cheeks. But try as I might, the tears show their stubborn nature, and some manage to fall. What did crying do? What would it accomplish? My eyes dart from one side of the court to the other. //“If you’re going to do something stupid,” I remember Master Audouin laughing, “then there can be no second thinking.”// It was made in response to me completing a lesson he had given me in an unconventional, and ridiculous way. I had made it harder than it was, and instead of chiding me, he watched with great interest. In the end, I successfully completed the lesson. After all these years, his words stuck with me far longer than whatever lesson I had achieved. I sigh, a small pensive grin on my lips, “your words still ring true.” [[I’m going to fight my way out.][$combat +=5]] [[Distract and shock the crowd.][$persuade +=5]] [[Simple. Run.][$stealth +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combat ++</span><</if>> I prepare myself, first evaluating my situation. There was a handful of guard’s present, four of them line the walls, plus the two behind me, and then the King’s Guards that were far enough away from me that I didn’t have to fret their interference. That, and I didn’t wish to get into a fight with one of them while wearing a chikrin and being as weak as I was. This number also wasn’t accounting for the resistance that I would meet if I made it outside. Thankfully, all of the guards seemed to be carrying your average spear or short sword. It would be wise to get my hands on at least one of their swords, that would at least keep the others at a distance, especially since they didn’t know how capable I was with a weapon. The guard to my right has his right hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Though, choosing his sword over the guard to my left was a touch idiotic. I would have to lunge and hope that the guard’s reaction was slow. Whereas grabbing the sword of the guard to my left would be far more accessible, though my positioning once I had my hands on it might prove to be a problem. [[Grab the sword of the guard on the right.]] [[Grab the sword of the guard on the left.]]
<<nobr>><<pickup '$weaponInventory' 'classic shortsword'>><</nobr>> I was really beginning to live my life based off of that one quote by my master. I don’t even take a breath before lunging to the side. I didn’t wish to waste another second, for every wasted second went towards the guards ready to grab me and drag me off. To my utter shock, my hands enclose around the guard’s hilt before he can even react to my movement. I grip it tightly and do a spin, hooking my foot around the guard’s right foot as I go. He trips, and the other guard jumps back, his sword now drawn. The crowd begins to scream as if I had taken one of them hostage, all of them rushing to get away from me. This was precisely what I needed. The minor commotion allows me to sprint towards the door, ready to do what I had to now. I would not see that cell again. <a data-passage="5.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>><<pickup '$weaponInventory' 'classic dagger'>><</nobr>> <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ <<set $taint +=5>> <</if>>\ I side-eye the sword that rests there, thinking, and visualizing my next moves before I attempt anything. Believing that I was ready, I take a deep breath in and spin, grabbing the guard’s sword and taking two steps back. My back was now to the King and my eyes on the two guards before me. His friend had already drawn his sword and was giving me a questionable look. The guards that had once lined the walls now step forward; their spears leveled. I hear everyone screaming and shouting at once and realize that my positioning wasn’t a good one. I had to now watch every side of me in hopes of not getting overtaken. There was bound to be someone who grew brave and moved in. And indeed there was, I just didn’t expect that person to take the form of an advisor hiding a small dagger. The advisor gives away his motives by shrieking right as he lunges for me, bringing his dagger down and burying it in my shoulder. I grunt in pain as I slash my sword, hearing him scream and knowing that I needed to get out of here. The others charge forward as soon as I make to run, one of their spears making contact but the thick material of the burlap allowed me to get away. I sprint towards the door, attempting to focus all of my attention on escaping. My wound would have to wait. <a data-passage="5.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Persuasion ++</span><</if>> I know a few things that the crowd didn’t. And seeing that this crowd did indeed love their 'game', they would probably lap up my information in ecstasy. [[Tell them of the King.][$courtknows_king = true]] [[Tell them of the Queen.][$courtknows_queen = true; $side -=5; $bastardroyalty = true]]
I point to the King before turning to look at the crowd, “do any of you know even know why the Prince was to be crowned?” I look back to see the King’s face twitch as he realizes what I would soon tell all. It also reminds me that there are two guards right behind me, ready to see me back to a disgusting and cramp cell. There was no time for dramatics. “He is dying of sickness,” I blurt, and for a brief moment the crowd goes silent as my words reach their ears, even the guards seem shocked as they look from me to their fuming King. “Gua –,” the King begins, just as the crowd roars. Some of them demand an explanation, while others are already using this information to better their position. Even some seem furious at me, if only because I had told everyone, rendering the knowledge useless to individuals. One guard leaves my side as he lunges at a noble who have forgotten their place, approaching the King for answers. With a snap of my silver tongue, the crowd went from watching judgment be placed to demanding answers from their dying King. The court has descended into a chaos that the few guards present couldn’t handle alone. I take a step back, and then another, and a third. The door was right there, attention no longer on me. “The prisoner!” someone with a commanding voice shouts and with that, I turn on my heel and sprint. <a data-passage="5.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I point to the Queen before turning to look at the crowd, “I doubt any of you know about the Queen then?” The King’s face settles into one of confusion as the Queen silently stares on. I am also reminded of the two guards that flank me, ready to escort me back to a disgusting and cramp cell. There was no time for dramatics. “The Queen has an illegitimate child with one of the nobles among you,” I blurt, and for a brief moment the crowd goes silent as my words reach their ears, even the guards seem shocked as they look from me to what was left of the royal family. “Is this true?” the King growls under his voice, though we all hear due to the otherwise quiet courtroom. She sends an innocent smile to him and then the rest of those in attendance, “it is.” My brows crinkle at her as she outs herself, and still somehow manages to look calm, or as calm as a grieving mother could. “Who is the child and the sire? Both will hang!” As much as I cared to listen to the news of the century, this was no longer my concern. The nobles were busy fighting with each other, throwing out accusations and hypothesizing who the father could be. The few guards present did their best to keep the peace as the King continues to question his wife. I take a step back, and then another, and a third. The door was right there, attention no longer on me. “The prisoner!” someone with a commanding voice shouts and with that, I turn on my heel and sprint. <a data-passage="5.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Stealth ++</span><</if>> I fail to come up with anything but the idea to run. I trust in my feet, enough to believe that they could successfully get me out of here before I’m dragged back to that hell hole they wish me to rot in. It was now or never. Shocking the guards, and myself, I push myself past them and take off. The crowd gasps, behaving as if I had just unsheathed a sword and was now brandishing it in front of their pretty faces. The door was right there, I just needed to make it. I feel a hand clasp around my ankle, and as I fall, I kick out with my free foot. I successfully hit the lunging guard and bring my foot out of his grasp before clambering up to my feet. //“Get out of there,”// my insides scream, their imaginary voices all melding into one clear and concise one. I do exactly as they, sprinting towards the exit. <a data-passage="5.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The weather seems to be attuned with my frantic spirit. I throw the doors open, and I’m immediately hit on the nose by a raindrop. The clouds still move in a lackadaisical fashion, but they are slowly overtaking the sun. I haven’t paid much attention to the shifting weather or kept an ear out for the Great Priests and their announcement that Monsuna was upon us. And now wasn’t the best time either. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic shortsword')>>\ The guards on the steps of the court look at me in confusion, not knowing if I had been freed or if I was now on the run. I assume that they figure it out by the commotion behind me and the sword that rests in my grip. They unsheathe theirs, and I dart to the left. <<elseif $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ The guards on the steps of the court look at me in confusion, not knowing if I had been freed or if I was now on the run. I assume that they figure it out by the commotion behind me and the dagger that sticks from my wounded shoulder, a trail of blood clinging to the burlap robe. They unsheathe theirs, and I dart to the left. <<else>>\ The guards on the steps of the court look at me in confusion, not knowing if I had been freed or if I was now on the run. I assume that they figure it out by to the commotion behind me. They unsheathe their swords, and I dart to the left. <</if>>\ <<if $background is "streetkid">>\ I hadn’t thought it necessary to learn the streets of Ipharia, a foolish move on my part and a sign that I had totally abandoned the lessons learned while I lived on the streets. Learning the alleyways and the shortcuts was a move that kept me alive back when I was smaller. If only I still had that fear residing in me now. <<else>>\ I hadn’t thought it necessary to learn the streets of Ipharia, mostly because I didn’t believe I would be here long. How was I to know that in a matter of days I would go from being one of the most reputable witches in Nidinia to being hunted and chased through the streets? <</if>>\ Thankfully, the crowd size has lessened since this morning’s viewing of humiliation. Those in the crowd had either gone about their business or stood before the Court of Justice, waiting to hear what my judgment would be. I’m sure the sight of me sprinting away was an obvious enough answer. I hear the shouts of the guards behind me, a murderous rage that I can feel even from here as I sprint across the roads. I wouldn’t be able to keep this energy up for long, and as soon as they grab their horses, I was done for. Not to mention that if the rain came down harder, this burlap robe was going to soak up every last drop and weigh me down. I run down a nearby alleyway, not knowing what would await me on the other side. Thankfully, it’s not more guards; instead, it’s a decision. [[Take the road to the marketplace.]] [[Go down the farming road.]]
I head to the right and then to the area that I know the marketplace rests. I know this only because it was beside the square … and because Master Audouin had spoken about visiting. To my shock, it is relatively empty. The only ones milling about were owners, far too smart to leave their wares out in any kind of form, and beggars and thieves that had learned a long time ago that public humiliations were the perfect time to drop by. I run a reasonable distance down the road before stopping and turning to see where my pursuers were. The force behind me was smaller, possibly due to them splitting up to search for me. Those approaching were doing so slowly, checking behind the vendor carts, questioning those who might’ve seen me, and going into some of the buildings. Running off was both an obvious and easy choice, it was the perfect time to disappear. But I have a feeling that the small building on the opposite side of the street might come in handy. It was a clothing shop. At the moment, my main goal was to escape Ipharia. But this burlap sack would give me away, and I knew not if the symbolism here was the same in neighboring towns and villages. Also, the impending rain would only make the heavy garment an even more significant issue. [[Go into the clothing store.|5ClothingStore]] [[Escape Ipharia.|5Escape]]
<<nobr>><<pickup '$clothingInventory' 'cloak'>><</nobr>> I stay moderately close to the shadows of the buildings, my heart leaping into my throat as the guards only get closer. It was now or never, even if they saw me. If I waited any longer, then they would simply find me on their own. I take a deep breath in and sprint across. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ As I go, I find myself gravely missing my ability to transform into a shadow. I felt like a piece of me was still in that cell, unable to free itself. In a way, it was. As long as I wore this collar, then I would continue to be without both my magic and my ability. It was far too unwise to go back and find the Kren who held my key, even though I had a few choice words for him. My only luck was to find someone who could free me, or at least point me in the right direction. Thankfully, Cimmerians were just as stealthy as their shadow forms. We blended in with the darkness, overjoyed to once again be so close to our maker's bosom. I quickly make it across the street without the guards spotting me. But that didn’t mean I was safe; I was still on a daunting time limit. <<else>>\ <<if $stealth >=10>>\ The God of Luck seems to favor me for the time being. She bestows upon me a successful, albeit nerve-wracking, trip to the clothing store. One where no guards manage to spot me, and I’m able to slip into the shop without anyone being the wiser. But that didn’t mean I was safe; I was still on a daunting time limit. <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $timelimit = true>><</nobr>> I dart across the street and to my dismay, the guards shout my location. I had been spotted. I continue on, it was too late to turn back now. I would just need to be quick about this and make sure that once outside, I ran and didn’t stop. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ The inside is small and straightforward. A few haunting wooden figures stand to the side, portraying what the outfits may look like when worn. In addition to that, there are also shelves and tables filled with different kinds of clothing for an individual to browse through. There was nothing about this place that stood out to me, which was a good thing since I didn’t have time to nonchalantly look around. I grab the nearest cloak, which happens to be a dark misty grey and run towards what I hope to be a back door. <<if $timelimit>>\ <<nobr>><<set $injury_ankle = true>><</nobr>> I can hear the guards behind me, trying to figure out if I was stupid enough to hide behind one of the tables or if I had continued on through. I throw open the backdoor, running straight into three guards who are vigilantly keeping watch. They sound the alarm, and I dart to the left. The sudden action causes me to slip, falling and applying far too much weight on my ankle, I grit my teeth at the pain and fight through it the best I can, continuing on. <<else>>\ I slowly open the door, not wishing to alert anyone to my presence and current location. Further down the road are two guards, chatting with one another as if they weren’t currently tracking who they believe is a murderous fugitive. There was no way for me to walk out of here without being seen unless they were just that bad at their jobs. Behind me, I hear the door of the establishment open. I had little choice now. I take a step out of the building, attempting to be sneaky and failing, though I wasn't unshaken by the events. Instead, I dart off, having them give chase and yell to the others that they had eyes on me. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.00.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I decide on continuing forth, a cloak would do me little good if I were caught while trying to get it. If I get caught now, then my head would be theirs, they cared not for innocence or guilt, I will die. <<include "5.00.1">>
I stay within the shadows, creeping along and doing my best to keep the guards to my <<if $injury_ankle>>back despite my sprained ankle.<<else>>back.<</if>> I eye the forest that beckons me to seek shelter amongst its dead leaves. It looked like it was the most haunted forest in all of Nidinia. Its branches shoo me away and the mist from the rain gives it an eerie aura. Behind me, I hear a whinny, the cavalry was here. With fear spurring me on, I plunge into the trees that snap at me for my impertinence. Some of the trees sit bare, Celesow wrapping its wintery hands around them and shaking them violently. All that was left from the violent altercation were unadorned branches, shivering whenever the wind roared by. Though, some trees had refused Celesow’s rage. They stood with their greenery still in place, taking on the burden of light snowfall and, consequently, giving me a place to hide deeper within. <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ The sound of horses drew closer as I go. My lungs were on fire, <<if $injury_ankle>>my muscles beg me to rest, and my injury reminds me constantly of its existence.<<else>>and my muscles beg me to rest.<</if>> I ignore it, as I head deeper within. My eyes frantically search for a place to hide. It would be only a matter of time before they were on top of me. I stop when I manage to spy a decently sized hole at the base of one of the trees. I inspect it closer, cursing when I realize that I wouldn’t be able to fit. Instead, I examine the tree itself, the branches thick enough to hold my weight and the leaves packed close enough to shelter and hide me from those below. I scramble up the tree, having to soothe my beating heart so that I didn’t misstep and tumble back down. One slip and that would be it, I would be found and my life, forfeit. I try to press myself as close as I can to the branch that I’m on, hoping that my frame could not be seen. Shivers race down my spine as I brace myself, watching as a line of riders race by. <<else>>\ The sound of horses drew closer as I go. My lungs were on fire, <<if $injury_ankle>> my muscles beg me to rest, and my injury reminds me constantly of its existence.<<else>>and my muscles beg me to rest.<</if>> I ignore it, as I head deeper within. My eyes frantically search for a place to hide. It would be only a matter of time before they were on top of me. I stop when I manage to spy a decently sized hole at the base of one of the trees. It would be cramp, but I could fit within. I scramble inside, shifting and staying close to the ground as the sound of hooves hitting the earth seems to be all around me. Shivers race down my spine as I brace myself, watching as a line of riders race by. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.00.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
There were dozens of them, all galloping a long yet cluttered line through the forest in search of me. I could faintly hear some of them barking orders to their subordinates, but the sound of the hooves disallows me from actually understanding any of it. Soon their numbers begin to dwindle, and the sounds fade. I stay where I am though, telling myself to sit tight for just a while longer. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ My muscles <<if $injury_ankle>>and ankle burn<<else>>burn<</if>>, and if my shoulder could scream then it would be howling. The pain that thrums there is the only thing that keeps me awake. I wish to pull the blade out but know well enough why that would be a horrible mistake. For now, it would have to stay. I steady my breathing the best I can and try to move, my legs refuse to though. Against my better judgment, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own whimpering is what lulls me to sleep. <<else>>\ My muscles <<if $injury_ankle>>and ankle burn<<else>>burn<</if>>, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Against my better judgment, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I continue forward, watching as the stone buildings begin to dwindle and turn into a mix of wood and thatch. The huts here are spaced out, and the graveled road turns to nothing but dirt and mud. I decide to leave the road behind. Instead, I head into the dead grass and shoot across yards and pastureland. I keep my eye out for a horse but happen across no such luck. The shouts of the guards have quieted, but I’m not foolish enough to believe that they have completely left me. If anything, most of them had turned to secure themselves horses, and the others wandered down the wrong road. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ I slow down to catch my breath and figure out which way to go. This was an awful mistake. As soon as I stop, my legs take a breath in the form of a cramp. I grit my teeth as I go down, right around the same time that my stab wound wishes to remind me of its presence. I clench my shoulder as I fall to my knees. Would this be where I fall? In a pasture without a soul in sight, and with some random man's blade plunged through my chest. I gaze around and find that I have two options. One being a large haystack residing not too far away from where I rest. It would make for a horrible place to hide, but it was a place to hide, nevertheless. The other option was a nearby hut, it looked abandoned, for the moment. It would make for a much better hiding spot but that didn’t lessen how dangerous and foolish it would be to enter. <<else>>\ I slow down, only to catch my breath and figure out which way to go. This was an awful mistake. As soon as I stop, my legs take a breath in the form of a cramp. I grit my teeth as I go down, massaging it gently but the pain does not lessen. Would this be where I fall? In a pasture without a soul in sight. I gaze around and find that I have two options. One being a large haystack residing not too far away from where I rest. It would make for a horrible place to hide, but it was a place to hide, nevertheless. The other option was a nearby hut, it looked abandoned, for the moment. It would make for a much better hiding spot but that didn’t lessen how dangerous and foolish it would be to enter. <</if>>\ [[Go for the haystack.|5.01Haystack][$hay = true]] [[Go for the hut.|5.01Hut]]
I crawl towards the hay and force my way inside. It pricks me and the need to itch every area of skin that it touches intensifies the deeper I go. I move the area behind me around to give the stack a natural look, and I sit there, patiently. Not long after crawling in, the sound of hoofbeats thundering across the land is heard. I can hear the muffled voices of some of the soldiers, but that is all. They ride past, not for a minute suspecting that I was closer than what they believed. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ My muscles burn, and if my shoulder could scream, then it would be howling. The pain that thrums there is the only thing that keeps me awake. I steady my breathing the best I can and try to move, my legs refuse to though. Darkness encroaches and takes over, my own whimpering is what lulls me to sleep. <<else>>\ My muscles burn, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I would rather take my chances in the hut, especially since it would most likely have things that I could use. I gather all the energy that I still possessed and make my way over to the small hut. My hand reaches towards the door when I hear the sound of hoofbeats behind me. I didn’t have time to check to see who was inside, I was in the open and my only chance held who knows what on the other side. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ I find myself gravely missing my ability to transform into a shadow. I felt like a piece of me was still in that cell, unable to free itself. In a way, it was. As long as I wore this collar, then I would continue to be without both my magic and my ability. It was far too unwise to go back and find the Kren who held my key, even though I had a few choice words for him. My only luck was to find someone who could free me, or at least point me in the right direction. Thankfully, Cimmerians were just as stealthy as our shadow forms. We blend in with the darkness, overjoyed to once again be so close to our maker's bosom. And so, as I open the door, I naturally disappear within the shadows. I close the door and creep along the wall, my eyes now on the old woman with her back to me. She hums a tune to herself as she goes, totally unaware of my presence. I continue along, half of my attention on her as the other half is on my surroundings. I needed to find someplace to hide. I take a moment to look, spying a room whose door was ajar. Another room rested near where I was currently positioned, and a quick glance warned me that it was unwise for the room was in use. And so, with only one option, I dart across the hut and into the room, closing it and finding it bare besides a bed and a dresser. Even better, a closed window resided in the room, allowing me a quick escape route. I make sure the door is closed before looking around, hoping to find anything that I could use. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ <<nobr>><<set $bandage = true>><</nobr>> The room didn’t have bandages, but the bed did still have cloth bedding covering the hard mattress. I rip off a piece, growing quiet after the act was done and listening for the woman’s humming. I hear it and continue what I’m doing. I grit my teeth as I pull the dagger out of my shoulder, fighting with all my might to keep from screaming. And then, with bloody hands, quickly tie the cloth around the wound. The pain is excruciating, and I would like nothing more than to cry out, to let some of this mounting frustration pour out of me. But I can do nothing, nothing but rest and let the pain and my waning energy push me towards sleep. <<else>>\ My muscles burn, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Soon, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <<if $stealth >=10>>\ The God of Luck seems to favor me for the time being. He bestows upon me a successful, albeit nerve-wracking, entry into the home. I close the door just as quietly as I had opened it, and creep along the wall. My eyes stay on the old woman with her back to me, her attention on her cooking and her own humming. I continue along, half of my attention on her as the other half is on my surroundings. I needed to find someplace to hide. I take a moment to look, spying a room whose door was ajar. Another room rested near where I was currently positioned, and a quick glance warned me that it was unwise for the room was in use. And so, with only one option, I dart across the hut and into the room, closing it and finding it bare besides a bed and a dresser. Even better, a closed window resided in the room, allowing me a quick escape route. I make sure the door is closed before looking around, hoping to find anything that I could use. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ <<nobr>><<set $bandage = true>><</nobr>> The room didn’t have bandages, but the bed did still have cloth bedding covering the hard mattress. I rip off a piece, growing quiet after the act was done and listening for the woman’s humming. I hear it and continue what I’m doing. I grit my teeth as I pull the dagger out of my shoulder, fighting with all my might to keep from screaming. And then, with bloody hands, quickly tie the cloth around the wound. The pain is excruciating, and I would like nothing more than to cry out, to let some of this mounting frustration pour out of me. But I can do nothing, nothing but rest and let the pain and my waning energy push me towards sleep. <<else>>\ My muscles burn, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Soon, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ I open the door and quickly shoot inside, my eyes widening as they leave the door and meet the fearful gaze of a woman standing before a stove. We stare at one another, neither of us moving as we try to figure out what the other would do. The sounds of guards outside her hut make its way to our ears, and I see her exhale in relief. She was going to warn them of my presence. [[Attack her.|5.01Attack]] [[Wait and see.|5.01WaitSee][$hay = true; $injury_ankle = true; $wait = true]] [[Run.|5.01Run][$hay = true; $injury_ankle = true]] <</if>>\ <</if>>\
Before she can act, I leap towards her, my weight pushing her to the ground. I cover her mouth, but one squeal later, and I realize that I had another choice to make. I either flee and try to find somewhere else while the guards move in towards the hut, perhaps buying me some time. Or I had to take matters into my own hands and end the woman’s life. [[Kill her.|5.01Kill][$hut = true; $goodtogo = true]] [[Flee.|5.01Flee][$hay = true; $injury_ankle = true]]
<<if $species is "ecrid">>\ <<set $empathy -=10>> <</if>>\ <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ <<set $taint +=10>> <</if>>\ My hands immediately move to her throat as she takes a deep breath in, clawing at me and attempting to scream for help. My hands tighten, all my energy going into the action as my eyes glaze over. I watch her face contort from frustration to anger to desperation, and then finally to pleading. She tries everything, but even with my waning energy, she was no match. Slowly, her actions slow, and the last emotion that passes through her eyes is fear. My hands are still around her neck, my body frozen as I stare at the now still woman. Her chest does not rise, her eyes don’t flicker. Nothing. She was dead. I had killed her. <<if $killedbefore>>\ I had killed before, that was true. And in a way, this was no different than the first time I had done it. In both situations, my life was on the line. The only difference was that this woman was innocent and that her only crime against me was the alarm she would have sounded. <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $killedbefore = true>><</nobr>> I … I had never killed someone before. I always prided myself on how capable I was able to worm my way out of situations without the need for bloodshed. But that was just it, wasn’t it? My past circumstances didn’t amount to the trouble I was in now. I was accused of murdering two people and now … now I actually had. The thought causes me to feel unusually sick. Speculation about who this woman was, came to mind. What if she had a husband who would return to the house later? Or some other family member? Or what – no! I tell myself and get to my feet, this was how I made things worse. It was heartless, but I needed to focus on me. <</if>>\ <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ On unsteady legs, I walk around the house looking for things that I needed. I find a few bandages and pull the dagger from my shoulder, dressing it the best I could. I then find some clean clothes and change into them, abandoning the burlap sack and hiding it under the bed in the abandoned room. I tell myself to eat as well, but the thought of doing such a thing made me want to vomit. Instead, I go to the abandoned room and rest my head. <<else>>\ On unsteady legs, I walk around the house looking for things that I needed. I find some clean clothes and change into them, abandoning the burlap sack and hiding it under the bed in the abandoned room. I tell myself to eat as well, but the thought of doing such a thing made me want to vomit. Instead, I go to the abandoned room and rest my head. <</if>>\ My muscles burn, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Soon, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
All of Ipharia believed me to be a murderer, I would not allow their words any truth. I get up and with my last bit of energy, dart through the house in search of a window. By the time I get to it, the woman has already begun her squealing, and hopefully, it brings any nearby guards to the front door. I push open the window and squirm out with my feet first, I fail to see the firewood that rests underneath the window and my feet slip, my ankle landing on the ground in an unnatural way. I suck in the whimper that I wish to make, feeling the pain from my ankle radiate all throughout my leg. <<include "5.00.3">>
I wait, hoping that maybe I was wrong and that she wouldn’t alert those outside to my presence. She opens her mouth and screams, shouting at the guards to come and seize me. I get up and with my last bit of energy, dart through the house in search of a window. By the time I get to it, the woman has already begun her squealing, and hopefully, it brings any nearby guards to the front door. As I go, I wonder what had possessed me to think she would keep her mouth closed? Did I believe that there were still some good people out there, even after all that had befallen me today alone? It was a lesson that I needed to learn, but one I didn’t wish to at the same time. I push open the window and squirm out with my feet first, I fail to see the firewood that rests underneath the window and my feet slip, my ankle landing on the ground in an unnatural way. I suck in the whimper that I wish to make, feeling the pain from my ankle radiate all throughout my leg. <<include "5.00.3">>
And so, I waste no time. I get up and with my last bit of energy, dart through the house in search of a window. By the time I get to it, the woman has already begun her squealing, and hopefully, it brings any nearby guards to the front door. I push open the window and squirm out with my feet first, I fail to see the firewood that rests underneath the window and my feet slip, my ankle landing on the ground in an unnatural way. I suck in the whimper that I wish to make, feeling the pain from my ankle radiate all throughout my leg. <<include "5.00.3">>
I wanted to scream, to curse everyone and everything. But I had no time to do that. I dart away from the hut, lucky that the woman did indeed buy me some time. My only hope was the haystack that I had seen previously. I practically dive inside of it, wiggling my way deeper and deeper until I was confident, I was in the middle. I kick the area behind me around to give the stack a more natural look, and I sit there, patiently. Not long after crawling in, the sound of guards and hoofbeats thundering across the land is heard. I can hear the muffled voices of some of the soldiers, but that is all. They ride past, not for a minute, suspecting that I was still in the immediate vicinity. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger') or $injury_ankle>>\ My muscles burn, and if injuries could make any sort of noise, mine would be howling. The pain that thrums throughout my body is the only thing that keeps me awake. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ I wish to pull the blade out but know enough on why that would be a horrible mistake. For now, it would have to stay. I steady my breathing the best I can and try to move, my legs refuse to though. Soon darkness encroaches and takes over, my own whimpering is what lulls me to sleep. <<else>>\ I steady my breathing the best I can and try to move, my legs refuse to though and my ankle decides to just increase the painful thrums. Soon darkness encroaches and takes over, my own whimpering is what lulls me to sleep. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ My muscles burn, and I find my breathing exceedingly irregular. Soon, darkness encroaches and takes over, my own exhausted breath lulling me to sleep. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The King growls as he brings his powerful fist down onto the table in front of him, causing the guard to flinch. The King's eyes now resting on the crinkled map of Nidinia that rests before him, Ipharia covered by the King’s fist. “Useless,” he shouts, throwing a nearby book across the room, “how hard is it to follow the witch and then bring ?him back. Tell me, Captain, how hard?” The guard bit his tongue, refusing to answer or meet His Majesties glare. It was the wiser thing, yes, but the King wasn’t in the mood for wise guards, especially when they were still just as incompetent. The Apprentice had gotten away. Fresh tears begin to run down his face as his high-ranking officials and advisors glance away, letting him have his moment. The image of his dead son came to mind, his body a sickly pale white and his mouth hung open as if his jaw had been broken and then played with after. His pupils were no longer visible, and only a pupil-less red-hue color was left behind. His fingertips and toes were a dark purple, and odd black vein-like markings ran up the length of his arm, a horrible stench originating from them. Finding him in such a way shocked the King more than angered him. What monster would do such a thing? And to think, he invited said monster. <<if $courtknows_king>>\ Not only that, but the witch had told the entire room of his sickness. Now enemies and allies alike knew what coursed through his body. These rumors would spread and reach every inch of Nidinia. He didn’t know how long he had left, but every step forward would have to be careful. If the witch was the lead snake, then the pit was outside these walls. The King took in a deep breath, but upon seeing the Captain, yells again. “Averill.” He shouts the name as if Averill wasn’t behind him, standing stoically to his right. <<elseif $courtknows_queen>>\ Not only that, but the witch had spoken on his Queen’s unfaithfulness, and even worse, she confirmed it. It was an issue that would have to be settled later, lest he wished to regret what he would do to the woman. The King took in a deep breath, but upon seeing the Captain, yells again. “Averill.” He shouts the name as if Averill wasn’t behind him, standing stoically to his right. <<else>>\ The King took in a deep breath, but upon seeing the Captain, yells again. “Averill.” He shouts the name as if Averill wasn’t behind him, standing stoically to his right. <</if>>\ “I want the Apprentice found!” he roars, “you will lead the party, for I don’t trust these simpletons to do so.” He says the word simpleton wish such bitterness towards the Captain that the man felt like a thieving child, one who had greatly underestimated those he stole from. Averill nods, a grim and unreadable expression on $his face. <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ The King’s wild eyes darted to Averill, “that won’t be a problem, will it?” Averill stiffened, unsure of how $he should answer, why would the King doubt $him before even giving $him a chance to prove $himself capable? “The two of you looked like you were getting quite … close,” the King continues, Averill finally catching on. “Unwise judgment on my part, My King,” Averill reassured, $his eyes flickering to the ground in sadness, “please forgive me.” The King waved $his words away, his eyes traveling back to the map resting before him. Averill silently was glad for the distraction, any more questions directed towards $him and $he was unsure how $he would answer. $He truly thought $name was worth it. <</if>>\ “Alive. I want ?him alive. I want ?his_ torture to be felt in <<link 'Kiamet'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Kiamet is Darkness's Dwelling as well as his prison. Though not exactly a bad place, as there are a few species who believe that depending on one's life, they might head to Darkness's side, which is actually what they wish for. Predominantly though, most view Kiamet as a negative place, and saying that an individual is heading there is an insult to one's character and life.<</dialog>><</link>>. I want ?him to scream to the gods and pray and have them feel genuine pity for ?his life. I want that witch now. This is the top and only priority, whatever you need, demand it. Any who dare question you, send them my way, and they will earn the exact same punishment as ?he.” Averill nods, thinking over possible people to bring along. There was that guard, Ansellus, $he believes his name was. Hopefully, the man could fight because his knowledge would be helpful. Averill excuses $himself and left to do as $his King had asked. <a data-passage="5.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $hay>>\ I wake to an uncontrollable itch, an itch that cannot be itched while inside my hay tomb and so I claw my way out, tempted to roll around in the grass to lessen the need to scratch my skin. When I gaze down, I see that my arms are covered with small red bites, each one begging to be scratched senselessly. I growl, yet another thing to add to my already extensive list. I stomp off, heading towards the nearby forest that would provide me much more cover and shelter than this area. As I go, I can’t help but eye the land around me with envy. Envious of how it could be so bright when my world was so dark. The area didn’t look as depressing as it did the other day. The fog had evaporated, and the sun was reminding the land that it still cared for it. A nice, though damp, breeze soared by, causing the leaves that were visible to shake before growing still once more. <<elseif $hut>>\ I awake to a trickle of light resting on my face, angled perfectly to shine into my eye. I rise slowly, allowing everything to come back to me. <<if $goodtogo>>\ I was inside of a hut, the woman who was here yesterday, I had killed her. My body was stiff, and my need for a bath far outweighed anything else. But that would come at a later time, I needed to go, lest the guards begin checking huts and find the woman. <<else>>\ I was inside of a hut, the woman perhaps still here or had left. Either way, it was obvious that she had not picked up on my presence and I wish to keep it that way. Carefully, I leave the room, and after making sure no one was nearby, rush to the door. <</if>>\ After checking the immediate area, I set off towards the nearby forest that would provide me much more cover and shelter. As I go, I can’t help but eye the land around me with envy. Envious of how it could be so bright when my world was so dark. The area didn’t look as depressing as it did the other day. The fog had evaporated, and the sun was reminding the land that it still cared for it. A nice, though damp, breeze soared by, causing the leaves that were visible to shake before growing still once more. <<else>>\ <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ The sound of a bird's incessant cawing wakes me. As soon as my eyes open, I see a bird perched on a small branch in front of me, cawing once again and shocking me enough to forget that I was indeed in a tree. I tumble out of it, hitting the ground with a loud thud that causes a fresh new wave of aches to shoot through me. I wait until most of the aching seems to dissipate before getting to my feet. <<else>>\ The distant chirps of grasshoppers and birds woke me, my head shooting up at the first sounds of the new day, and inevitably hitting the top of the hole that I sought refuge inside. My body groans and aches, begging me to leave the cramped space and stretch the stiffness out. It was a shock that I was able to properly sleep in such a position, but perhaps that was what exhaustion did to the body. I glance around the immediate area of the hole and slowly take my leave. <</if>>\ The forest had taken on quite a different life, compared to the somber air it breathed the other day. What once was a questionable land, shrouded in lingering gray fog, was now home to an assortment of colors and harmony. Woodrats scamper around, fighting one another for food and lapping up the water from the small puddles around. I spot a deer in the distance, its herd not far. The forest seems cheerful, but the sky still looked ready to erupt, growing heavier by the minute. <</if>>\ [[I need to put as much space between Ipharia and me as possible.|5.02ByeByeIpharia]] [[The most important thing right now was food.|5.02FindFood]] [[I need to find real shelter.-5.02Shelter]] [[I need to get this magical collar off.|5.02CollarOff]]
I would go back to Akrisos, gather up more of my things but all of my essential things were still in the castle. I doubt it would still be sitting idly in the room I occupied, for all I know they burned all of my things or tossed it. Either way, I wouldn’t go back to check, that was suicide. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger') or $injury_ankle>>\ I continue forth, trying my best to ignore my injuries that caused me to travel slower than I wished as I run over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <<else>>\ I continue forth, running over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <</if>>\ [[I mourn for my master still.|5.02Mourn]] [[I was always alone, this isn’t new.|5.02NothingNew]]
My stomach growls as if to agree. They had starved me during my imprisonment, only giving me one plate of food that was mostly mush. Looking back, it made sense, they wanted me feeble. They had simply underestimated my desire for freedom and how far my adrenaline would take me. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger') or $injury_ankle>>\ I continue forth, trying my best to ignore my injuries that caused me to travel slower than I wished as I run over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <<else>>\ I continue forth, running over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <</if>>\ [[I mourn for my master still.|5.02Mourn]] [[I was always alone, this isn’t new.|5.02NothingNew]]
If Monsuna was approaching, then sleeping out in the open was foolish. I would be drenched and if the freezing rain didn’t kill me, then a sickness would. That was the last thing I needed, a runny nose and to be coughing with a tender throat. <<if $background is "traveler">>This wasn't exactly new to me, I've been traveling more than half of my life. But that was as a free citizen of Nidinia, never had I had to worry about there being a price on my head. And that one thing drastically changed a predicament that almost didn't seem so strange.<<else>>I wouldn’t be able to stay in one place for very long, but if I could keep near barns and huts as I go, I should be fine.<</if>> <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger') or $injury_ankle>>\ I continue forth, trying my best to ignore my injuries that caused me to travel slower than I wished as I run over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <<else>>\ I continue forth, running over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <</if>>\ [[I mourn for my master still.|5.02Mourn]] [[I was always alone, this isn’t new.|5.02NothingNew]]
This collar around my neck was a pain in the butt and the biggest warning to those who saw me. Those who knew what this was would think me a runaway slave and if word has reached their ears, they'll know that I was the witch on the run from the King. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger') or $injury_ankle>>\ I continue forth, trying my best to ignore my injuries that caused me to travel slower than I wished as I run over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <<else>>\ I continue forth, running over all the possible places I could go. I had no place to retreat to and no family to beckon me into their embrace with open and loving arms. I was now completely alone. <</if>>\ [[I mourn for my master still.|5.02Mourn]] [[I was always alone, this isn’t new.|5.02NothingNew]]
My master … he was family. In the two years since I’ve known him, he had treated me with nothing less than respect and what I do believe was love. The many dinners that we had and him always being interested in what I had to say. Many times he would say that he was old, but truthfully his death was nowhere near. For Ecrid, he was merely an adult, decades left to explore these lands. <<if $background is "traveler">>\ I continue through the woods, walking with my left side to the rising sun. I had long sense memorized Nidinia's maps but studying a map was not the same as walking its trails, especially for a country this large. I wait for reassurance in the shape of tall mountains. Though I want to put as much distance as possible between me and those mountains, they were helpful for understanding where I was. These mountains, officially known as the Exalted Mountains, interrupted Ipharia’s growth but gave her its protection from the dangers lying in the east. If I could spot these mountains, then I would know which way I was going. <<else>>\ I continue through the woods, walking with my left side to the rising sun. As I head through the forest, I question which way I was going. I had never studied a map of Nidinia, and for all I know I could be going towards Akrisos. I wait for reassurance in the shape of tall mountains. Though I want to put as much distance as possible between me and those mountains, they were helpful for understanding where I was. These mountains, officially known as the Exalted Mountains, interrupted Ipharia’s growth but gave her its protection from the dangers lying in the east. If I could spot these mountains, then I would know which way I was going. <</if>>\ I stop when I come to the beginning of two trails, one heading west, the other east. I search for the mountains and see nothing. I would have to make this decision based off of what I already knew and understood about my predicament. [[Take the west trail.|5.02East]] [[Take the east trail.|5.02West]]
My master was there, and so was Isaak and a few of the other townsfolk. But I never thought of them as anything more than my teacher, and well … townsfolk. Family … friends, those words were still alien to me. And with my current predicament, I wonder if I would ever grow familiar with them. <<if $background is "traveler">>\ I continue through the woods, walking with my left side to the rising sun. I had long sense memorized Nidinia's maps but studying a map was not the same as walking its trails, especially for a country this large. I wait for reassurance in the shape of tall mountains. Though I want to put as much distance as possible between me and those mountains, they were helpful for understanding where I was. These mountains, officially known as the Exalted Mountains, interrupted Ipharia’s growth but gave her its protection from the dangers lying in the east. If I could spot these mountains, then I would know which way I was going. <<else>>\ I continue through the woods, walking with my left side to the rising sun. As I head through the forest, I question which way I was going. I had never studied a map of Nidinia, and for all I know I could be going towards Akrisos. I wait for reassurance in the shape of tall mountains. Though I want to put as much distance as possible between me and those mountains, they were helpful for understanding where I was. These mountains, officially known as the Exalted Mountains, interrupted Ipharia’s growth but gave her its protection from the dangers lying in the east. If I could spot these mountains, then I would know which way I was going. <</if>>\ I stop when I come to the beginning of two trails, one heading west, the other east. I search for the mountains and see nothing. I would have to make this decision based off of what I already knew and understood about my predicament. [[Take the west trail.|5.02East]] [[Take the east trail.|5.02West]]
<<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ I decide to turn on the trail that was heading west, making sure to stay on the forest’s outskirts as I go, just in case some soldiers appear. Despite the deep sleep I had earlier, I find myself feeling every ache and pain from my choice of a bed. <<if $goodtogo>>Dirt clung to my skin and I felt horrendously disgusting, my nose suffering the most. As if to remind me that that was a lie, a spike of pain shoots through my shoulder where the bandage was wrapped around my injury.<<else>>Dirt clung to my skin tighter than the burlap robe. I felt horrendously disgusting, and my nose was suffering the most. As if to remind me that that was a lie, a spike of pain shoots through my shoulder due to the dagger rubbing up against a branch.<</if>> <<if $goodtogo>>\ Perhaps this was a good thing. If a soldier did trot by then they might think me nothing more than some dirty vagrant. If the sight of me did not cause them to spur their horses onward, then my smell would. I’ll add in a sickly cough and the question of coin to help as well. <<else>>\ Perhaps this was a good thing. If a soldier did trot by then they might think me nothing more than some dirty vagrant. If the sight of me did not cause them to spur their horses onward, then my smell would. Though, with such thoughts came the all to familiar reminder of the dagger. I should remove it before such a thing could transpire, lest I wished to be immediately apprehended. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I decide to turn on the trail that was heading west, making sure to stay on the forest’s outskirts as I go, just in case some soldiers appear. Despite the deep sleep I had earlier, I find myself feeling every ache and pain from my choice of a bed. <<if $goodtogo>>Dirt clung to my skin and I felt horrendously disgusting. My nose suffering the most.<<else>>Dirt clung to my skin tighter than the burlap robe. I felt horrendously disgusting, and my nose was suffering the most.<</if>> Perhaps this was a good thing. If a soldier did trot by then, they might think me nothing more than some dirty vagrant. If the sight of me did not cause them to spur their horses onward, then my smell would. I’ll add in a sickly cough and the question of coin to help as well. The thought of running off soldiers, and the ways how I would, allow me to get to the village in one piece. It would seem that I had turned down the right road. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The east path, yes, that seemed correct. I turn along it and follow it away, making sure to stay close to the forest outskirts just in case any soldiers decided to ride by. I’m confident in myself until I travel enough to see the mountains looking back at me in the distance. True, I had wished to find them, but inevitably, going towards them was the wrong thing. I had walked a decent mile away from where the two trails separated. I would have to go back and follow the west instead. A simple enough fix. Such words flowed smoothly from the tongue when, in actuality, nothing was that simple. And I felt like it would never be that simple again. As soon as I choose to turn around, I hear horses approach from behind. <<if $clothingInventory.has('cloak')>>\ I pull the cloak that I had stolen tighter around me, hoping that it would help in making me look like nothing but another lost soul. I practice a limp, which wasn’t as hard as I first thought. <<if $injury_ankle>> My swollen ankle was still very much a thing and I was already walking with a slight limp before this. If anything, I was probably overexaggerating now.<<else>>It would seem that my sore muscles were already leaning towards such a hobble.<</if>> I continue walking when the guards ride up, quieting as they pass me. “Can you spare some,” is all I manage to croak out before the two spur their horses onward, leaving me to cough at the dirt that their horses kick up. It was an obscenely rude gesture but one that I could forgive, especially since I was now allowed to continue on. <<else>>\ There was no way I would be able to get out of this without being identified. My only hope was to dive back into the trees and trace my way back to the road. I go in and after a while, get down and lay flat across the ground. I watch as they continue on, no idea of who lays just a few feet off their path. They continue riding, chatting in low voices as they go. Once I’m back in the clear, I get to my feet and head back towards the west trail. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The town, or more like the village, that lies ahead of me wasn’t as far as I had initially thought. This could mostly be due to me already being on the edge of the massive kingdom whose reach I still have not escaped. It would be foolish to stay here for too long, but it would be just as foolish to pass by. It was a delightful village, quaint and obviously reaping the benefits of residing so close to the capital. From my current position, I could see a large raised platform that stood in the middle of the town. Nothing of significance rests on it, but it seems to fit with the overall aesthetic of the village square. Being centered in the middle of a steadily thickening forest, the town had more greenery and shade than Ipharia, separating it from its mother even further. <<if $goodtogo>>\ I breathe in deeply and continue forward, happy that I had the chance to situate myself back at the hut. This way, I simply looked like a vagabond and not someone who had just barely escaped a public execution. I still attempt to attract as little attention as I can, searching for an inn as I go. Though, that did bring up the issue of having no ruho. Perhaps if I explored first, then I could come across some ruho. <<else>>\ I take a step forward only to bring my foot right back. It wasn’t because of what I saw; instead, there was a much more personal reason for my action. My wear. I still had on the burlap robe from the public humiliation, and it was just as dirty as one could expect after such an ordeal. This village was far too close to not know what this disgusting garment symbolized, and therefore I would be turning myself in. <</if>>\ <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ [[Strip and use it to bandage my shoulder.|5.03StripBandage][$bandage = true]] <<else>>\ <<if $clothingInventory.has('cloak')>>\ [[Strip and wear just the cloak.|5.03StripWearCloak]] <</if>>\ [[Risk it.|5.03RiskIt]] [[Strip|5.03Strip][$strip = true]] <</if>>\
Walking into the village with a dagger poking out of my shoulder, plus wearing the burlap sack was probably not the best way to go. If the villagers didn’t immediately run off screaming for the guards, then at the very least they would keep their eyes on me. My decision was not made lightly, in fact, I pause several times while preparing myself to question if this was wise. I rip a thick strip from the robe, attempting to take the less stained area in doing so. I then take a deep breath and slowly pull the knife out. The action brings with it a flood of blood, gushing out of the wound like escaped creatures that had been yearning for freedom. I had no time to lose. I quickly tie the strip over the wound, grinding my teeth together as I pull it tight. It wasn’t perfect, but it was at least dealt with … for now. <a data-passage="5.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The only other option was to go in there with my butt cheeks exposed, not an option in my mind. I could weave a story that I was one of the other prisoners that were freed. That my clothes underneath were spoiled, and I had opted to instead keep the burlap sack on. Or maybe even say that I had chosen to keep it on as to remind me of my ‘crimes,’ that I still needed to forgive myself. It was bathetic enough of a story that humble villagers, such as themselves, would probably buy it without reservation. <a data-passage="5.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
This reminds me of yet another quote spoken by my master as he shamelessly skinny dipped in a lake favored by those of Akrisos. “What do I have to be ashamed of? I look good.” At the time, I had preferred to give him a look of disdain, or what I hoped was disdain since my eyes had been clenched shut. But now I could only chuckle. <<if $care >=50>>\ I tear the robe off and retreat further back into the forest. After digging a sloppy hole, I take a step back and throw it in. In a way, the hole wasn’t even needed. Due to everything that had been thrown at me earlier, the once flaxen clothing piece was now a hideous brown that rivaled the color of excrement. Before going, I stomp on it, spit on it, and take out what little aggression I could muster. This, in a way, symbolized Ipharia for me. <<else>>\ I tear the robe off and retreat back down the road, I don’t go far, but I do go to the other side. I place it on the ground where any wandering eye can see and then leave noticeable footsteps that head east. Carefully I backtrack, making sure to leave no steps and to do away with those that I do. This goes on for quite some time before I finally quit and head back. <</if>>\ I take a deep breath in and with nothing but thin articles protecting my more sensitive body parts, I walk into the village. <a data-passage="5.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
It was wise of me to stop at that clothing store and grab the cloak <<if $injury_ankle>> even if it did cost me a partially swollen ankle.<<else>>.<</if>> As soon as I’m safely within the town, I would need something more though. Celesow was coming to an end, but Monsuna’s rains could freeze one almost as fast as Celesow’s winds. <<if $care >=50>>\ I tear the robe off and retreat further back into the forest. After digging a sloppy hole, I take a step back and throw it in. In a way, the hole wasn’t even needed. Due to everything that had been thrown at me earlier, the once flaxen clothing piece was now a hideous brown that rivaled the color of excrement. Before going, I stomp on it, spit on it, and take out what little aggression I could muster. This, in a way, symbolized what Ipharia had become to me. <<else>>\ I tear the robe off and retreat back down the road, I don’t go far, but I do go to the other side. I place it on the ground where any wandering eye can see and then leave noticeable footsteps that head east. Carefully I backtrack, making sure to leave no steps and to do away with those that I do. This goes on for quite some time before I finally quit and head back. <</if>>\ I fasten the cloak on and take a deep breath before walking into the village. <a data-passage="5.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $strip>>\ No soldiers and no one here seemed to have gotten the news yet that there was a fugitive on the run. The looks I received weren’t one a dangerous murderer would get anyway. Some of the looks are of shock and confusion, eyes wide as they redirect their gaze. Other looks are ones of interest, raised brows and agape mouths as I walk through their village. <<if $smug >=50>>\ To those who whistle and send me flirtatious smirks, I do nothing more than wink back and give them a smile that would cause even a Great Priest to blush and break down in prayers. The attention was undoubtedly a bad thing, they wouldn’t forget this, especially when the soldiers did come. And they would. But my attention was on bigger things. <<else>>\ To those who whistle and send me flirtatious smirks, I can manage nothing more than a blush and a faster walk. The attention was undoubtedly a bad thing, they wouldn’t forget this, especially when the soldiers did come. And they would. But my attention was on bigger things. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ No soldiers and no one here seemed to have gotten the news yet that there was a fugitive on the run. Despite that, the looks I receive are still more than what I had hoped for. Some shoot me confused glares, while others held more disdain and distrust than confusion. <<if $clothingInventory.has('cloak')>>\ I look the part of a filthy vagabond, whose luck had placed ?him_ here. I keep my head down and continue on. <<elseif $bandage>>\ I hadn’t totally tossed away my robes, though I had thought about it. Walking in with a bloody poorly bandaged shoulder and in the nude just didn’t seem smart either. And so the attention I was receiving would turn foul. As soon as the soldiers appeared, they would know exactly whom they sought. <<else>>\ These villagers knew the meaning behind what I wore. I wouldn’t be shocked if some of them had been present for it. They would probably leave me be, but if I overstayed my welcome, then they would undoubtedly voice their disapproval. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ I need clothes and a place to rest, but I held no ruho. All of my possessions sat somewhere in Ipharia, either still in my unoccupied room or another place entirely. If I explore a bit more, then I would surely come by something, but that would not change my lack of ruho, and it could only put me in more danger. [[Explore.|5.04Explore]] [[Find an inn.|5.04Inn]]
<<if $goodtogo>>\ I search the buildings and then head to the vendor carts, wishing that I wasn’t the strangest thing walking around at the moment. Most of the vendors I pass glare at me as I go, taking a protective step towards their merchandise. Even if I were able to find a cart that was left unattended to or whose vendor didn’t seem to be paying attention, the others would just shout at me when they saw me swipe something. That, and no one was dumb enough to leave ruho just lying about. I sigh as I walk back to the square, deciding to just find an inn and hoping that whoever was there could aid me or make some sort of deal with me. <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $clothingstole = true>><</nobr>> <<if $strip>>\ I head on, wondering how Akrisos dealt with public indecency. I couldn’t recall ever seeing someone walk around the town without their clothes, and I didn’t think I would like to imagine what would become of them. Akrisos had been my home, yes, but a lie it would be if I said that it didn’t have its shares of crimes and horrendous acts. The guards mostly. There were enough female and male guards to have been rumored to take that which did not belong to them. Most of the time, nothing more happened, for the Lord sat in his scaled-down castle and ignored what became of his subjects. I shake the thought from my mind. If guards were here, it was because they had ridden in from the capital and that was a bigger problem than Akrisos. <<else>>\ I search the buildings and then the vendor carts, wishing that I wasn’t the strangest thing walking around at the moment. With no ruho, my only option was to steal. I couldn’t do that and find some kind of lodging if everyone was already staring at me like some spectacle. I find clothes, but it wasn’t due to me finding a tailor or a clothing store. What I do find is a woman at the side of her house, hanging up clothes to be dried before the rain can get to them. I hide, waiting for her to leave. Once she does, I surge forward, grabbing some standard trousers and a dark brown waisted tunic. I dash away before the woman could come back. Now, to find an inn. <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <a data-passage="5.04Inn"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Finding an inn was always one of the easiest things to find in any sized town, only rivaled by taverns. This particular one stood out since it was the most prominent building and the only one with a sign dangling above the door. I enter and immediately breathe in the rich smell of seasoned meat and pine. A weird combination but one that was far more pleasant than my own scent. “Can I help you?” a woman asks as she raises an eyebrow at the sight of me. She was an older Ecrid whose two horns held so many twists and turns that it reminds me more of a slide than the pride and joy of an entire species. Her magenta eyes were filled with a wisdom that I saw within my master’s eyes as well, a kindred spirit I wish to believe. In addition to that, she was plump with fat rounded cheeks and wore an apron on top of a dark green peasant dress. <<if $goodtogo and $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ “I need a room,” I tell her trying to figure out how I would explain that I had no ruho. I fumble on my words, watching as she looks me over with narrowed and wary eyes. Exhaustion overtakes me, the weight of everything that I’ve been through and done. Everything that has yet to happen and even this moment, knowing that I would be walking back out those doors emptyhanded. “I …” I attempt, but my pounding head causes me to stop. I glance up, only to see her retreating figure. I freeze and realize that I had received my answer. Where would I sleep? Would I have to go through yesternight’s ordeal? Steal into someone else’s home and hope that their screams went by unheard. The innkeeper returns, in her hands, a tray with water, bread, and fruit. My eyes widen at the food as my legs finally remind me of how tired they truly were. I fall back into the wall, still trying to figure out what this all was. <<else>>\ “Oh honey, you look horrible,” the innkeeper exclaims as I approach, I didn’t think it possible but the softness in her eyes grow. She vanishes before I can explain what I need, returning promptly with water and a tray of bread and fruit. Staring at the food, I suddenly realize how exhausted I am. My legs shake, and I fall back into the wall. <</if>>\ <<if $bandage>>\ “You eat up now, I’m going to go run you a nice hot bath. I’ll also see if I have anything to help you with that wound of yours.” True to her words, she darts upstairs and out of sight. <<else>>\ “You eat up now, I’m going to go run you a nice hot bath.” True to her words, she darts upstairs and out of sight. <</if>>\ [[This was kind of her.|5.04KindofHer]] [[She shouldn’t be so trusting.|5.04NoTrust]] [[One word, food.|5.04Food]] <<if $wait>>\ [[Could she be trusted?|5.04TrustQuestion]] <</if>>\
She didn’t know me, didn’t know my name, and definitely didn’t know my story. She simply watched as a $species came stumbling into her establishment, and that was enough for her. She extended a kind hand just like that. “Bath!” the woman sings a few minutes later. <a data-passage="5.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I had learned the hard way that trust was foolish, it brought with it nothing but anguish. It was far better to think that everyone had their own agenda, and if possible, not to get involved. “Bath!” the woman sings a few minutes later. <a data-passage="5.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I would have to thank the old woman later, for now, I wish to do nothing but devour the modest spread that sits on a tray before me. “Bath!” the woman sings a few minutes later. <a data-passage="5.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The memories of what happened last time I gave someone the benefit of the doubt was still fresh in my mind. I received a swollen ankle and had to sleep in a haystack. Of course, those factors were different from these, but the overlying theme was still there - trust others at your own risk. I chew on the bread, wondering what I would do if she proved my suspicions right. I gaze around, taking in every possible escape. “Bath!” the woman sings a few minutes later. <a data-passage="5.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
This was a luxury that I never knew I needed. The bathtub was an old-fashioned one, wooden and just big enough for an average-sized person to be comfortable inside. Instead, the carpenter had focused more on depth than width, making sure one could sink down relatively far before the option was no longer available. I had no complaints though, not while the hot water lapped at my skin, enthusiastic about doing its job. Every bone and muscle within my body took a collective sigh, relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. The woman, whose name I had learned was Angie had not only filled the bath with steaming water, but a concoction made of honey and some kind of flower. The smell alone had me quite prepared to drift off. I tell myself to wash up first, but I’m unable to. The pull of sleep yanks at my eyelids, it soothes my senses, and soon it takes me completely. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> I find myself laying in a field of beautiful wildflowers while overhead, the sun blazes down on me, and yet the wind makes sure that I was not uncomfortable with its cooling breeze. My entire body feels utterly relaxed, not a problem in the world. “Ow!” a voice shrieks from beside me, and I look over to see Isaak rubbing his elbow. He gives me an embarrassed grin, “I think an ant just bit me.” “Knowing you, you probably laid on top its home,” I tell him, closing my eyes again. Not even a second had passed by before I reopen my eyes to a commotion behind me. I turn to see that Isaak is no longer beside me but on a road that was not there before. Ansellus stands before him, undoubtedly picking on the young man again. The sun is no longer shining down upon me, and the sky is dyed a sickly red. The sun looks more like a pus-filled bump than a symbol of godly origin. [[Confront Ansellus.|5.05ConfrontAnsellus]] [[Head over to help Isaak.|5.05HelpIsaak]] [[Break them up.|5.05BreakThemUp]] [[Ignore them.|5.05IgnoreThem]] [[Pray for guidance.|5.05PrayGuidance]]
<<if $chakra is not "navel">>\ <<set $stability to 50>> <</if>>\ I stand, ready to confront Ansellus like I’ve done in the past so many times. But I’m no longer able to move. I watch as distorted images of me approach him, pushing him roughly to the ground. My doppelganger lands a kick to Ansellus’s stomach, and the assault doesn’t stop there. Isaak begs me to stop, his voice changing frequency as he stands to the side, and then suddenly he’s no longer there. The scene freezes and I can move again, but I’m no longer among the beautiful wildflowers. Below me is a bloody Ansellus whose face is distorted. He takes his last breath, but that doesn’t stop me. I continue to attack his face. I scream at myself to stop, trying to regain control of myself, and I fail. I surge forward, breaking the water that had almost become my tomb. My head spins as I stare at my un-bloody knuckles. Of course, that was all a dream, but what did it mean. Did it mean anything at all? <<include "5.05.1">>
<<if $chakra is not "sacral">>\ <<set $stability to 50>> <</if>>\ I roll my eyes but get to my feet, only, I don’t. I can’t move, it as if I’m stuck in my seat. The scene before me continues, Ansellus kicking Isaak in the stomach before assaulting him further. I fight and fight, trying my hardest to get up and go to Isaak’s rescue, but I don’t. Isaak’s shouts and screams for mercy begin to change frequency, sometimes sounding like a possessed creature and other times sounding like a frightened child. It is only when Ansellus walks away that I can move. I rush over to Isaak’s still body. He’s not making any kind of noise, and his eyes are glazed over. He … he was … I surge forward, breaking the water that had almost become my tomb. My head spins, and I move each body part in turn, thankful to have control. Of course, that was all a dream, but what did it mean. Did it mean anything at all? <<include "5.05.1">>
<<if $chakra is not "heart">>\ <<set $stability to 50>> <</if>>\ I sigh, I saw nothing but two little boys who didn’t know how to get along. Perhaps one day, I would learn the reason why. I stand and walk over to them, standing in the middle. But the next actions are not my own. It is almost like my vision distorts and I faintly see someone who looks like me approach Isaak. I can’t hear what is being said, but my doppelganger roughly pushes Isaak before slapping him. Tears rush down Isaak’s face, but my clone doesn’t stop. They beat him to the ground. I tear my eyes away only to see a similar scene with Ansellus, someone who wasn’t me but was, beating him to the ground. My eyes are wide as I try to break whatever stillness I was in. I scream at the top of my lungs for my clones to stop, but nothing happens. The next thing I know, I’m surging forward, breaking the water that had almost become my tomb. My head spins, and I move each body part in turn, thankful to have control. Of course, that was all a dream, but what did it mean. Did it mean anything at all? <<include "5.05.1">>
<<if $chakra is not "throat">>\ <<set $stability to 50>> <</if>>\ Ansellus, more often than not, would only shout out a few words before leaving poor Isaak be. This would be no different. I lay back down as if I was still among the field of wildflowers. Behind me, I can hear Isaak screaming for mercy and Ansellus maniacal laughter. Flesh hitting flesh, blood spluttering, the sounds of death is behind me, but I remain in my position. A lazy smile on my face as I act like I can feel the nonexistent rays of the sun. This was wrong, and I try to voice that to myself, but nothing comes out. I scream and shout but nothing. My throat burns and aches as if I was expressing my objections, but I know I’m not. Instead, I continue to lay there without a care in the world. And then silence. The next thing I know, I’m surging forward, breaking the water that had almost become my tomb. My head spins, and I make a small sound, thankful to hear my voice again. Of course, that was all a dream, but what did it mean. Did it mean anything at all? <<include "5.05.1">>
<<if $chakra is not "crown">>\ <<set $stability to 50>> <</if>>\ I decide to pray for guidance, to ask the High Gods what I should do. I had never done this before. And though I begin the prayer, something at the back of my mind questions why I choose now, out of all times, to try this out. In the background, I can hear Ansellus’s assault on Isaak. But I don’t stop praying. I sit by idly, speaking gibberish as Isaak begs for help, screams for someone to come. I try to close my mouth, to open my eyes, to do something other than prayer, but that only causes my voice to rise. My prayer comes to an end at the same time that Isaak’s begging does. He lays there motionless, Ansellus nowhere in sight. The next thing I know, I’m surging forward, breaking the water that had almost become my tomb. My head spins, and I feel the need to throw up, it felt as if I wasn’t even connected to my body at the moment. I wait, letting my mind calm before sighing. Of course, that was all a dream, but what did it mean. Did it mean anything at all? <<include "5.05.1">>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> <<if $bandage>>\ I do a quick clean, ignoring the lukewarm water and the absence of honey in the air. Once done, I pick myself up and dry off, entering the room that Angie had so kindly given to me. Along with the room, a fresh roll of bandages and a jar filled with something without a scent sat on the end table. She was kind, but I knew not if she expected payment for such kindness. I had no ruho and no desire to be thrown out, but perhaps I should tell her … <<else>>\ I do a quick clean, ignoring the lukewarm water and the absence of honey in the air. Once done, I pick myself up and dry off, entering the room that Angie had so kindly given to me. She was kind, but I knew not if she expected payment for such kindness. I had no ruho and no desire to be thrown out, but perhaps I should tell her … <</if>>\ [[Tell her about my lack of ruho.|5.05NoRuho][$honesty +=2]] [[Keep it to myself, she’ll find out soon enough.][$honesty -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Honest ++</span><</if>> She has been far too kind for me to be so dishonest. <<if $clothingstole or $goodtogo>>\ <<if $clothingstole>>I grab and put on the clean clothes that I had stolen earlier<<else>>I grab and put on the clothes that I had taken from the hut<</if>>, and head downstairs. I don’t know what my next option would be, but I would need to figure it out. My body was still far too exhausted for me to go back to the road. I also needed to figure out where I was going, lest I continue to wander around aimlessly. <<else>>\ I notice that Angie had left some clothes behind, yet another kindness in which I couldn’t payback. I put them on though and head downstairs. I don’t know what my next option would be, but I would need to figure it out. My body was still far too exhausted for me to go back to the road. I also needed to figure out where I was going, lest I continue to wander around aimlessly. <</if>>\ When I get downstairs, I realize that there is no one else in the inn. I wonder if that was due to the size of the village, along with its proximity to the capital. This was probably everyone’s last pick, only on the list because it happens to exist. I find Angie at the desk, shooting me a bright smile that causes her magenta nashi to brighten considerably, <<if $species is "ecrid">>and my nashi to light up in kind.<<else>>and my insides to warm.<</if>> If she had a grandchild, they were lucky. “Hey, Angie,” I start, shifting from one foot to the other, “I want to say thank you for all that you’ve done for me. But I don’t have any coin.” “Oh dear,” she responds, eyes wide. And there it goes, my eviction notice. Maybe there was a barn somewhere nearby. The hay would be warm at least, well, that was if it wasn’t damp itself. I tune back into my surroundings at the sound of coins clacking and Angie’s voice. “Hmm I can spare ten ruho, but that’s it I’m afraid.” I stare at the woman as she holds the ruho out to me, waiting for me to grab it. I’m unable to move and so Angie chuckles and leans forward, softly grabbing my wrist, holding it open, and depositing the coin there. [[Thank her.|5.05ThankHer][$ruho +=10]] [[Shout at her.|5.05Shout][$ruho +=10]] [[Cry.|5.05Cry][$ruho +=10]]
I rub at my eyes as I shake my head, tightening my now closed fist against the cold feel of the coins. “Thank you so much,” I say, and she waves my words away. “I know a lost soul when I see one. And trust me, I’ve been one for so long that I understand completely. Now go on, head back up<<if $injury_ankle>>, rest that ankle, and get some sleep<<else>> and get some sleep<</if>>. I’ll have dinner prepared when you wake.” This woman’s kindness … I thank her once again before scrambling back up the stairs and to the bed that had been trying to seduce me since I walked into the room. I am haunted by no dreams, and when I awake, it is mostly due to the sound coming from downstairs, and one coming from the window that I sleep near. [[Head downstairs.|5.05Downstairs]] [[Look out the window.|5.05Window]]
My fist tightens around the coins, my eyes narrowing. <<if $goodtogo>>\ “What’s wrong with you?” I shout at the woman, “I could be anyone! Anyone! I could be a criminal, a cold-blooded murderer.” Whether I liked the example or not, it fit perfectly. Just the other night I had killed a woman before she could out me to the guards. For her to just trust and help me like this was foolish, it was how people got themselves killed. <<else>>\ “What’s wrong with you?” I shout at the woman, “I could be anyone! Anyone! I could be a criminal, a cold-blooded murderer.” Whether I liked the example or not, it fit perfectly. I was innocent, yes, but ask anyone else, and that wasn’t true. For her to just trust and help me like this was foolish, it was how people got themselves killed. <</if>>\ Through all my shouting and screaming, Angie maintains that soft smile. It doesn’t waver, and neither does the warmth in her eyes. “You’re right, but you mostly look like someone in need of help. And with Moon as my witness, I will not let one of her wandering children go without it. Now,” she tells me, “head upstairs<<if $injury_ankle>>, rest that ankle, and get some sleep<<else>> and get some sleep<</if>>.” I don’t know when I begin walking off, but I do. My head is still downstairs, staring at Angie with wide and confused eyes. Even as I settle into bed, I’m still mystified. I am haunted by no dreams, and when I awake, it is mostly due to the sound coming from downstairs, and one coming from the window that I sleep near. [[Head downstairs.|5.05Downstairs]] [[Look out the window.|5.05Window]]
<<if $species is "ecrid">>\ <<set $empathy +=3>> <</if>>\ I try to hold the tears in, but I’m unable to. Whether or not I wanted to admit it, Angie reminded me so much of Master Audouin. Perhaps it was an Ecrid thing … Regardless, the woman’s good nature pokes me repeatedly in the heart, and I can only usher thank you between my sobs. She waves each and every one of my words away and tells me to go get some sleep, to come down for dinner later on. And I do as she says. Fatigue was catching up with me. I am haunted by no dreams, and when I awake, it is mostly due to the sound coming from downstairs, and one coming from the window that I sleep near. [[Head downstairs.|5.05Downstairs]] [[Look out the window.|5.05Window]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> I decide to keep it to myself. If she wanted to be kind, then that was her problem and decision. I needed help, and I was in no state to deny it. If she wanted me out, then she could come up and tell me to leave. I would respect whatever she wanted, but I wasn’t about to help her towards that decision either. I decide to go ahead and lay down. Whether I wish to admit it or not, fatigue riddles my bones and my muscles are as soar as they were when I first began my training with Master Audouin. I am haunted by no dreams, and when I awake, it is mostly due to the sound coming from downstairs, and one coming from the window that I sleep near. [[Head downstairs.|5.05Downstairs]] [[Look out the window.|5.05Window]]
I gaze out the window, curious as to not only what I was hearing but also the time of day. The sun was still high in the sky, but I knew enough to know that this would be the highest it would go. The afternoon was a good guess. I lower my gaze to the crowd and the lone figure that stands on the stage. This figure is dressed as a soldier with parchment in his hands, shouting as loud as he could about some decree. I open the window to hear him clearer. “Any person, village, or town caught harboring this fugitive will pay the price of death,” I hear him shout and the crowd gasps, mumbling to themselves. “To whoever brings this fugitive in, a reward of twenty opal ruho will be given.” If not before, this surely put the town in a frenzy. They were like sharks in a pool of fresh blood, ready to even turn on one another. I couldn’t fault them; an opal alone was enough to remind this blemish of a village of its hay day. Twenty would do more than just make this place Ipharia’s prized daughter, it could be enough to have a lord or lady move in. Long story short, I need to go. <<include "5.05Downstairs">>
I head downstairs, stopping short at the voices that carry up. “I don’t get many visitors, sir. In fact, I don’t know when the last time I had a visitor was,” I hear Angie tell whoever was down there with her. I hear some things shift, something gets broken, and Angie doesn’t stand for that. I hear the old woman scold whoever it was, and a smack follows, who smacked who, I don’t know. “We’d like to look upstairs if it’s all the same to you,” a guard says, and I hear their foot hit the first stair that they come too. “Just don’t break anything, you hear?” Angie screams, louder than necessary. To the guards, it seemed like nothing more than an old woman raising her voice at them, but I knew better. She was warning me. I creep back up the stairs and dart to my room, locking it and gazing around. There was only one option and it led out in front of a crowded square. <a data-passage="5.06"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The leap out the window was going to be a dangerous one, that much I expect as I gaze down. The window was on the second story, and below was nothing but dirt, not a bush or a patch of thick grass in sight. There was a neighboring building, but that jump was just as dangerous as the other, I would have to grab onto the building’s edge and then rely on upper body strength to pull myself up. Not to mention, I would have to then think of a way down without attaining any attention. I hear the sound of a door opening, my decision needed to be now. [[Grab the building’s edge.|5.06GrabBuildingEdge]] [[Jump down to the ground.|5.06JumpDown]]
I open the window and prepare myself for the leap. Was the ground really that far down? Was there this much space between the buildings before? I was starting to believe that my choices really were to either get captured by the people below, or the people above. Option C, escape, seems almost unlikely. Regardless, I prop myself up on the windowsill, my leg muscles flexing as they prepared for the jump. I took it. I didn’t have much time to think, even less time to celebrate when my fingers grasp onto the ledge. <<if $weaponInventory.has('classic dagger')>>\ I bite my tongue as I’m reminded of the wound that I had procured. The pain congregates in my shoulder, begging me to release my hold. I clench my teeth and ignore the pain the best that I can, pulling myself up and across the angled roof. <<else>>\ I hold my breath as I pull myself up, crawling along the angled roof with my intention of getting to the other side. “Hold there!” I hear someone shout behind me and see soldiers in my room. They gain the attention of those in the square, and all eyes turn to me. “Just once,” I growl as I get up, no longer needing to be stealthy, “can something happen in my favor?” <</if>>\ <<include "5.07">>
I open the window and prepare myself for the jump. Was the ground really that far down? I was starting to believe that my choices really were to either get captured by the people below, or the people above. Option C, escape, seems almost unlikely. <<if $injury_ankle>>\ Regardless, I sit on the windowsill, my leg muscles flexing as they prepare for the impact. I took it. As soon as I hit the ground, I bend my knees and perform a roll, or what I hoped was a roll. Due to my swollen ankle, it turns into an awkward fall that causes me roll on the floor in pain. My ankle cursing me for such stupid and reckless behavior. It would take far longer for it to fully heal now. <<else>>\ Regardless, I sit on the windowsill, my leg muscles flexing as they prepare for the impact. I took it. As soon as I hit the ground, I bend my knees and perform a roll, or what I thought was a roll. It was more of a glorified fall. I slowly get back up, holding my breath as I wait to see if anyone had seen me. They hadn’t, or so I thought. <</if>>\ “Hey, look!” I hear someone shout behind me and see that someone walking by had noticed me. This causes everyone in the square to turn and look at me, as well as those who were now sticking their head out of the window above. “Just once,” I growl as I get up, no longer needing to be stealthy, “can something happen in my favor?” <<include "5.07">>
<<if $injury_ankle>>\ I run, an action that I seem to be doing more and more of now. Another action was blanking out, my body doing its own thing as my mind tries to solve issues that would never be addressed. By the time all of this comes to an end, my ankle would probably be the most swollen it’s ever been. Each time it strikes the ground I can feel the pain multiplying, adrenaline being the only thing that kept it from quitting and leading me to my doom. <<else>>\ I run, an action that I seem to be doing more and more of now. Another action was blanking out, my body doing its own thing as my mind tries to solve issues that would never be addressed. By the time all of this comes to an end, whether or not they capture me or not, I would be the fittest I’ve ever been. <</if>>\ I dodge tree limbs and jump over roots that jut out of the ground. Nothing leads me beside my own frantic actions. I just need to put space between them and me. How that was possible when they rode atop of horses? I knew not. The only reason they hadn’t caught up to me yet was because of the forest that we found ourselves in. If it wasn’t the bushes that lay scattered across my path, then it was the roots and the low hanging branches. My mind comes back to me, and I find myself slowing down, gasping for breath as if I had been underwater. What … how did I end up here? I remember running into the forest, but after, it seemed more like a gap. It felt so much like someone had sped up time and plopped me here. The surrounding areas were still trees, but they were not trees that I was accustomed too. These trees soared higher than any I’ve ever seen before, and perhaps even higher as the tree limbs blocked my view of the sky. <a data-passage="5.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
An assortment of noises can be heard, some of the sounds I wasn’t knowledgeable of, some I was. It would be beautiful if I didn’t know that there were a group of guards chasing me, as well as the creeping feeling of being watched. I slow and gaze up, finding the reason for my fear. A group of Kren look down at me, bows aimed and ready to release the sharp-tipped arrows in their grasp, and I have no doubt that each one will reach their intended target. They each wear the same clothing, and those whose faces I can make out have murderous intent in their eyes. Behind me, I hear the guards loom closer, I would not make it out of here alive it would seem. “You are trespassing onto sacred land,” a voice enlightens me, my eyes search the faces of those in the trees, but I fail to spot the one speaking, “state your purpose.” I look directly in front of me, watching as a feminine figure leaves the shelter provided by the trees. She stands stiffly as she looks me over, her face portraying nothing. [[“I seek sanctuary.”|5.08Sanctuary][$kAnswer = "sanctuary"]] [[“I’m escaping my persecutors.”][$kAnswer = "escape"]] [[“I have no idea how I got here.”|5.08DaFuqAmI][$kAnswer = "blank"]] [[“Mind pointing those arrows elsewhere?”][$kAnswer = "rude"]]
“I seek sanctuary,” I gulp, looking into two different colored eyes and tracing the large scar on her face as I speak. I feel that I much rather meet the business end of the numerous arrows pining for their freedom than to go head to head with her. <<include "5.09">>
“I am escaping my persecutors,” I gulp, looking into two different colored eyes and tracing the large scar on her face as I speak. I feel that I much rather meet the business end of the numerous arrows pining for their freedom than to go head to head with her. <<include "5.09">>
“I …” I start, gazing around like I had done before, “I have no idea how I got here.” I look back towards the woman and find myself staring into two different colored eyes and tracing the large scar on her face as I speak. I feel that I much rather meet the business end of the numerous arrows pining for their freedom than to go head to head with her. <<include "5.09">>
“First, mind telling your Kren friends to point those arrows elsewhere?” I ask, shooting a glare to the one closest to me before looking back at the woman. I find myself staring into two different colored eyes and tracing the large scar on her face as I speak. I feel that I much rather meet the business end of the numerous arrows pining for their freedom than to go head to head with her. <<include "5.09">>
She opens her mouth when the guards behind me appear, their eyes landing on me before taking in the Kren. Half of the Kren re-aim their arrows, while a few still have theirs trained on me. “Oi, Kren,” the lead rider comments, pointing to the woman who still stands just as calm as before behind me, “hand over the fugitive by order of His Royal Majesty.” “You forget yourself, there is no king in these woods,” she says plainly. “You stupid or something?” he grumbles before being silenced by the man beside him. This other soldier offers her a polite smile before nodding towards me, “the $species before you is wanted for crimes against the King of //all// of Nidinia. You’d be wise to hand him over without,” the man’s eyes flee to the trees, “conflict.” I finally see emotion cross the Kren woman’s face, a look of amusement, “and if we don’t?” “Then we’ll kill you and burn ya –” But that was all the first man who had spoken was able to utter before an arrow cuts him off. Shot right through the mouth, perfectly aimed. I turn to see that the woman had grabbed her bow, aimed her arrow, and shot all in record time. The man falls off of his horse, and before the others could do anything in retaliation, they meet similar fates as those in the trees release their arrows. The guards were dead, but I wasn’t totally free. I turn and place all of my attention on the Kren woman. [[“Well, thanks for that.”|5.09ThanksForThat]] [[“I’ll be going now.”|5.09MeGoByeBye]] [[“Again, I wasn’t with them.”]] [[Stand quietly.|5.09StandQuietly]]
“Well, thanks for that. Your help is greatly appreciated,” I tell her and then those in the trees. But glancing up at them was a mistake, the sight of them all looking upon me with blank stares, waiting to unleash their arrows into me, cause me to freeze. <<include "5.09StandQuietly">>
“Nice, very nice. If you don’t mind though, I’ll just be going now,” I chuckle lightly, taking a step back but then stopping when I hear the archers’ arrows shift in their grasp, “… or not.” <<include "5.09StandQuietly">>
“Just so we all understand each other,” I begin, looking from the now dead soldiers to the numerous Kren, “I wasn’t with them.” At my words, the archers’ arrows shift in their grasp so that they were now pointed at me again. “Right … doesn’t matter.” <<include "5.09StandQuietly">>
Her multicolored eyes take me in, judging my character with a single look. I fail to know if she trusts in what she sees before turning on her heel and commanding me to follow. In unison, every bow is lowered and the Kren surrounding me drop to the ground gracefully. Some take up positions around me, their eyes giving away their distrust and harboring resentment and fear. Others head towards the bodies of the recently slain, grabbing the now rider-less horses. I begin walking, wondering if I had just traded one danger in for another. [[End Demo|Start]]
<<nobr>>\ <<set $krenfollows = false; $ragemode = false; $guardfight = false; $dragged = false; $courtrule to 0; $fame to 20, $ruho to 0; $killedbefore = false; $stat_stability = true>>t <<unset $gwMaster, $answer, $horseshoes, $piefool, $armwrestling, $bards, $banquet, $archerycomp, $racing, $tugofwar, $vendors, $break, $watchEclipse, $delilahTold; $moonpendant, $ludanispendant, $trapspell, $noitems>> <<audio "masterdeath" fadeout>> <<playlist "dark" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ <img src="images/four.png"> I stare back into the hate-filled eyes of the King, wondering what could have possibly happened for me to procure his wrath. My brain was fried, tired from the day’s and night’s events and wanting a break. I wish to give it just that, but seeing my current predicament, it would not come anytime soon. The King steps down from his dais and grabs ahold of my tunic, jerking me closer. “My son lies in a puddle of his own blood, what have you to say for yourself?” Shock races across my face, my throat going dry as I look into eyes that seem ready to let the tears flow once again. “What could your reasoning be! Answer me!” he shouts, his spit landing on the side of my face as he shakes me roughly. [[“I … I didn’t know.”][$care +=3]] [[“Reasoning for what?”][$care -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> “I … I didn’t know. I had no clue,” I stammer, my mind still desperately trying to grasp onto something that made a fraction of sense. “My master …” “My son!” he screams, the entire room flinching yet again. One servant even drops what she was carrying. “Wait … you think I had something to do with this? I am innocent, My King.” He releases me, the tears now pouring down his face as he stumbles backward, hitting the first step of the dais as he holds his head. “I mourn for the loss of my only son, and you mock my sadness.” He removes his hand and glares at me, “how dare you?” “I’m innocent! I have not seen your son since the jousting competition.” The King lazily motions for someone to approach, and I look to see a servant and a slave do so. “Speak.” “The last person I saw go into the Prince’s room was the Dream Seer,” the servant tells, “I asked ?him what business ?he had with the Prince and ?he told me that it concerned a dream. And so, I allowed the witch entry. The next time I entered the room … the Prince was dead.” My eyes widen in disbelief. The young slave is the next to step up, his glare on the ground but his voice carrying to the ears of everyone in attendance, “I heard a commotion in the Prince’s room and soon later saw the witch leave the Prince’s room briskly. I thought nothing much of it till the servant screamed.” [[“Lies! These are all lies.”]] [[Laugh, this was not happening.]] [[Tell them of my day.]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> “Reasoning? Reasoning for what?” I question, my mind still desperately trying to grasp onto something that made a fraction of sense. “My master …” “My son!” he screams, the entire room flinching yet again. One servant even drops what she was carrying. “Wait … you think I had something to do with this? I am innocent, My King.” He releases me, the tears now pouring down his face as he stumbles backward, hitting the first step of the dais as he holds his head. “I mourn for the loss of my only son, and you mock my sadness.” He removes his hand and glares at me, “how dare you?” “I’m innocent! I have not seen your son since the jousting competition.” The King lazily motions for someone to approach, and I look to see a servant and a slave do so. “Speak.” “The last person I saw go into the Prince’s room was the Dream Seer,” the servant tells, “I asked ?him what business ?he had with the Prince and ?he told me that it concerned a dream. And so, I allowed the witch entry. The next time I entered the room … the Prince was dead.” My eyes widen in disbelief. The young slave is the next to step up, his glare on the ground but his voice carrying to the ears of everyone in attendance, “I heard a commotion in the Prince’s room and soon later saw the witch leave the Prince’s room briskly. I thought nothing much of it till the servant screamed.” [[“Lies! These are all lies.”]] [[Laugh, this was not happening.]] [[Tell them of my day.]]
“Lies!” I yell, moving just an inch and feeling the hands of the soldier’s behind me fall on my shoulders, reminding me not to move. “These are all lies, Your Majesty!” “You know this servant and slave?” the King asks. “No.” “Then what reason do they have to frame you? Tell me, witch, do you have anyone that can vouch for your whereabouts?” <<if $empathy >=50>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I could feel their accusing emotions slap me one by one, anger and horror. I was guilty and that was it. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <<else>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <</if>>\ <<if $redhanded>>\ “It’s true, Your Majesty,” one of the guards says, grabbing my still bloody hands and showing them to the King, “we found ?him in the act.” “What!?” I shout in panic, “no, you found me trying to heal him! You lie.” The King looks at the guards and they all nod, corroborating the first guard’s words. “Murderer,” he seethes. <<else>>\ “So,” the King begins, wiping his eyes and heading back to his throne. “The only alibi that you could possibly have is that of your master, who is now conveniently dead?” I bite my tongue, the words said in such a callous manner. “And not one, but two of my subjects have said that they saw you enter and leave my son’s room in the time frame of his death?” <</if>>\ <<if $negPrinceVibes>>\ I open my mouth to speak, but the King speaks over me, “and let us not forget that you, yourself, have said that my son would make a feeble and imprudent King.” My eyes dart to that of the King, him using his own question from earlier against me. <</if>>\ <<if $kingKnows>>\ He collapses in his seat. “I feel entirely foolish, for you are the snake from your own dream.” <</if>>\ The guards yank me to my feet, and my heart stutters, my eyes darting from one side to another. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ [[Turn into a shadow and escape.][$krenfollows = true]] <</if>>\ [[Go quietly with the guards.][$hostile -=5]] [[Yell and panic.]] [[Fight the guards off.][$hostile +=5; $guardfight = true]]
Oddly enough, I manage to chuckle, and the noise only grew louder as I sat there in disbelief. My master was dead, and I was now being framed for taking a life. And not just anyone’s life, but the Prince’s no less. Those in attendance whisper, calling me deranged but I cared little. My life had a shovel in hand and was aptly digging my grave. “You truly mock me?” the King whispers. “No, My King! But this entire thing is unbelievable. I killed no one. I am innocent!” “Tell me, witch, do you have anyone that can vouch for your whereabouts?” <<if $empathy >=50>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I could feel their accusing emotions slap me one by one, anger and horror. I was guilty and that was it. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <<else>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <</if>>\ <<if $redhanded>>\ “It’s true, Your Majesty,” one of the guards says, grabbing my still bloody hands and showing them to the King, “we found ?him in the act.” “What!?” I shout in panic, “no, you found me trying to heal him! You lie.” The King looks at the guards and they all nod, corroborating the first guard’s words. “Murderer,” he seethes. <<else>>\ “So,” the King begins, wiping his eyes and heading back to his throne. “The only alibi that you could possibly have is that of your master, who is now conveniently dead?” I bite my tongue, the words said in such a callous manner. “And not one, but two of my subjects have said that they saw you enter and leave my son’s room in the time frame of his death?” <</if>>\ <<if $negPrinceVibes>>\ I open my mouth to speak, but the King speaks over me, “and let us not forget that you, yourself, have said that my son would make a feeble and imprudent King.” My eyes dart to that of the King, him using his own question from earlier against me. <</if>>\ <<if $kingKnows>>\ He collapses in his seat. “I feel entirely foolish, for you are the snake from your own dream.” <</if>>\ The guards yank me to my feet, and my heart stutters, my eyes darting from one side to another. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ [[Turn into a shadow and escape.][$krenfollows = true]] <</if>>\ [[Go quietly with the guards.][$hostile -=5]] [[Yell and panic.]] [[Fight the guards off.][$hostile +=5; $guardfight = true]]
“My King, please. I am innocent. I went to the festival, came back, and then immediately headed to my room to sleep. I did not leave my room until now.” “You know this servant and slave?” the King asks. “No.” “Then what reason do they have to frame you? Tell me, witch, do you have anyone that can vouch for your whereabouts?” <<if $empathy >=50>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I could feel their accusing emotions slap me one by one, anger and horror. I was guilty and that was it. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <<else>>\ “My … my master is dead.” The court again erupts into whispers, and I clench my eyes closed. I know how it sounds and allowing the words to leave my mouth hurt far more than what they falsely imply. <</if>>\ <<if $redhanded>>\ “It’s true, Your Majesty,” one of the guards says, grabbing my still bloody hands and showing them to the King, “we found ?him in the act.” “What!?” I shout in panic, “no, you found me trying to heal him! You lie.” The King looks at the guards and they all nod, corroborating the first guard’s words. “Murderer,” he seethes. <<else>>\ “So,” the King begins, wiping his eyes and heading back to his throne. “The only alibi that you could possibly have is that of your master, who is now conveniently dead?” I bite my tongue, the words said in such a callous manner. “And not one, but two of my subjects have said that they saw you enter and leave my son’s room in the time frame of his death?” <</if>>\ <<if $negPrinceVibes>>\ I open my mouth to speak, but the King speaks over me, “and let us not forget that you, yourself, have said that my son would make a feeble and imprudent King.” My eyes dart to that of the King, him using his own question from earlier against me. <</if>>\ <<if $kingKnows>>\ He collapses in his seat. “I feel entirely foolish, for you are the snake from your own dream.” <</if>>\ The guards yank me to my feet, and my heart stutters, my eyes darting from one side to another. <<if $species is "cimmerian" and $redhanded is false>>\ [[Turn into a shadow and escape.][$krenfollows = true]] <</if>>\ [[Go quietly with the guards.][$hostile -=5]] [[Yell and panic.]] <<if $redhanded is false>>\ [[Fight the guards off.][$hostile +=5; $guardfight = true]] <</if>>\
Before they can do anything more, I activate my powers, melting away with the nearby darkness and turning into a shadow. No longer possessing a corporeal form, and no longer worried about capture, I dart towards the exit. My mind swims with the image of my master’s death, as well as trying to successfully conjure up the prince’s. Were they plotting against me? What had I done to deserve such a thing? Have I not done everything that the King has asked of me? Surely even he sees the flaws, the areas that seem to hold no logical answer for there was none. Suddenly, I freeze in pain and horror. My body feels like it’s being burned alive. I’m no longer able to see the door which was right in front of me. In fact, I see nothing but bright light. As if the sun had fallen from the sky and chosen to descend directly onto me. I force myself to turn back into my physical form, the feeling was still there but was now considerably dimmed. Similar to the feeling I felt when walking outside on an overly sunny day. I glance around and see a Kren in a cloak lower their hands. It was foolish of me not to assume that there were any witches in the King’s court. It was possible that one even stood in as his personal magic advisor. I clench my eyes closed as my joints feel like they’re locking up, disabling my ability to move. Pain happily races through my being, spreading its infection. “$name,” I hear the King say, followed by his footsteps and then his shadow looming over me. I’m unable to look up at him, unable to do anything but hear his next words, “you are hereby under arrest for the murder of a royal figurehead and suspicion of murdering your own master.” My eyes widen, and for a second, I wish to fight, to scream, to yell. But I can’t utter anything more than a choking sound. “Your sentencing will take place in two days. Until then, you will be held in the dungeons. Get this filth out of my face and my court.” My joints don’t relax as the guards come by and carry me off. The Kren from earlier follows, making sure that any further attempt at escape was impossible. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> I close my mouth. Not knowing whether if speaking would hurt or aid me. It was evident that whatever I said no longer mattered. These people were sure of my guilt, they looked at me and saw a murderer, or perhaps that was too nice of a word. The hatred blended in seamlessly with their fear, they saw a monster. I look at the King who held no such fear, his cold eyes sheltered the type of resentment and hate that one could not be taught, only experienced. He sits up straighter in his seat, glaring down at me, causing me to feel like a minuscule bug who had the misfortune of landing far too close to his foot. “$name, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of a royal figurehead and suspicion of murdering your own master.” With narrowed eyes, I stare at the wooden dais before me. I wish to fight, to scream, to yell. But I don’t, my lips stay pursed. “Your sentencing will take place in two days. Until then, you will be held in the dungeons. Now, get this filth out of my sight.” The guards who still had yet to move from my side since this had all started, roughly grab me and lift me to my feet. With one hand on me and the other resting on the hilts of their swords, they escort me out of the throne room and to wherever the dungeons lay. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Stop!” I shout, thrashing around, “I didn’t do this. You must believe me. I have no motive, what could I possibly gain from killing your son? My master?” “I know not,” he shouts, “you tell me. What do you possibly gain from any of this? I will not attempt to guess and put myself in the place of a mad-?man.” “Nothing,” I scream, tears of anger and disbelief springing to my eyes, “I have absolutely nothing to gain from this!” “There will be a trial!” the King shouts even louder, his voice causing the few portraits and their frames to vibrate. “Your sentencing will take place in two days. Until then, you will be held in the dungeons.” He looks at the guards surrounding me, “get this filth out of my face and out of my throne room. I must mourn.” Immediately, the guard’s grip on my arms tighten, but I thrash. I panic and fight against their hold. Those looking on look down upon me as if I was some wild beast who should’ve met their fate a long time ago. My screams would soon be a distant memory, fading away as the guards drag me off. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ I let out a monstrous roar cry, shoving the two guards who believed they could handle me, away. The spectacle causes more guards to approach, all of their hands hovering over the hilt of their weapons. It was a warning, one that I could either heed or totally ignore. [[Enter rage mode.][$ragemode = true]] [[Calm myself.]] <<elseif $combat >= 10>>\ I turn and slam my fist into the guard nearest to me, before then sidestepping the next guard who lunges for me, bringing both fists down upon his back. I make to run when I see five more guards standing in my way, their swords, unsheathed and ready. “By all means,” the King begins, a hint of humor in his voice, “try your body against my men’s swords and spears. Give yourself a speedy trial.” Before I can make up my mind on what to do, they rush towards me. The first one I manage to trip up, but the others take advantage of this distraction and swarm me. One slams their sword’s pommel down onto the back of my neck, causing me to fall to my knees. Two swords hover over my neck, the metal causing the hair there to stand on end. Just a careless flick of their wrist could end my life. “Now then. Take this filth to the dungeon to await trial for ?his crimes, which have now been added to.” I grunt as they begin dragging me, their swords still trained on me. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ I turn to punch the guard closest to me, but his reflexes are much more refined than my own. He dodges the punch and then slams his gauntlet fist into the side of my face instead. The other grabs me and pushes me to the ground, his knee jabbing into my back violently. “$name, you are hereby under arrest for the murder of a royal figurehead and suspicion of murdering your own master.” The King begins, looking down upon me with something similar to humor in his eyes. “Your sentencing will take place in two days. Until then, you will be held in the dungeons. Now, get this filth out of my face.” The guards roughly grab me and yank me to my feet. With one hand on me and the other resting on the hilts of their swords, they escort me out of the throne room and to wherever the dungeons lay. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
There was a technical term for it, I’m sure. Perhaps something identical to the Cimmerians and their dastardly taint. But I had never heard it and hardly ever entered it. The rage was a blinding state where it seemed even I took a back seat to my own actions. I entered only because of great emotional turmoil and usually exited it feeling hollow. And now, here in front of all these people who blamed me for crimes I did not commit. In front of the King, who had graciously welcomed me into his home, only to wish to throw me inside of a dungeon. And before guards who were wondering how many of them it would take to bring me down. All of them would witness my rage. It was like a click. Like I had walked up to a lever and pulled it without a second thought. One moment, I was filled with an overwhelming amount of anger, fear, and sadness. And the next, nothing. Everything had been flushed from my system. My vision submerged itself in a sea of red, and my body ignored its natural limitations. I had no control, and yet I had total control. My senses had heightened to a level that seemed almost godly. The room held an unnatural chill, and the eclipse was still in effect, casting a ghostly glow into the throne room. I could feel the cold touch of metal upon my skin as guards tried their best to subdue me. I doubt they thought they would ever be fighting a Uqanan witch at this hour, in the throne room of all places. For each guard that I manage to put down, another two appear. They have long abandoned the idea of not taking out their swords and spears, and with each growl, I feel another slash leave its mark on my skin. My energy was waning significantly. When I finally fall to my knees, my disquieting rage subsiding, I hear the moans and groans from those that had not been so lucky. Two swords hover over my neck, the metal causing the hair there to stand on end. Just a careless flick of their wrist could end my life. “Had your fun?” the King spits, “take this crazed piece of filth to the dungeons. There will be a trial … barely.” I’m unable to fight as a group of guards lift me and haul me away. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Nothing good could come from me turning my ire to men with swords and spears. Though my rage could do tremendous damage, especially to creatures so fragile, there would still only be one of me, and many of them. I silence my rage, taking deep breaths in and quieting my troubled mind. But that doesn’t mean I would take this willingly. As soon as my thoughts quiet, lulled into submission, I turn and slam my fist into the guard nearest to me. I sidestep the next guard who lunges for me, bringing both fists down upon his back. I make to run when I see five more guards standing in my way, their weapons, unsheathed and ready. “By all means,” the King begins, a hint of humor in his voice, “try your body against my men’s swords and spears. Give yourself a speedy trial.” Before I can make up my mind on what to do, they rush towards me. The first one I manage to trip up, but the others take advantage of this distraction and swarm me. One slams their sword’s pommel down onto the back of my neck, causing me to fall to my knees. Two swords hover over my neck, the metal causing the hair there to stand on end. Just a careless flick of their wrist could end my life. “Now then. Take this filth to the dungeon to await trial for ?his crimes, which have now been added to.” I grunt as they do as he says and drag me across the floor, their swords still trained on me. <a data-passage="4.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The streets remain dark and empty as we go, no sign of life as I suspect that everyone had gathered elsewhere to watch the eclipse. The moon hangs overhead in a pitch-black sky with no stars in sight. It tints the land in faded shades of red and purple. A magnificent view that I can’t fully appreciate as I’m ushered towards imprisonment. [[I’m quiet as we go, my mind on my alleged crimes.]] <<if $ragemode is false>>\ [[I continue to fight, hoping to somehow get free.]] <</if>>\ [[I attempt to use my magic to get away.]]
The entire way there, I utter no sound. My feet seem to be on autopilot and relying on those leading me, for my mind is back in the castle. It replays the King’s words, it summons the image of my master dead in bed, and it reminds me of the numerous stares I had received. They believed me to have killed their prince and even my master. Not only was it not a mere assumption, but they had two witnesses who both claim to have seen me. <<if $guardfight>>\ The only real crime I was being charged with was that of fighting those who had tried to take hold of me. It was the only crime that I could rightfully claim. <</if>>\ <<include "4.0.1">>
The fight had not yet left my bones as I continue to rebel against my captors. They grumble and attack me in return, frustrated that I refused to do as they ask. I would not go willingly towards my own doom, especially one that I wasn’t culpable for. <<include "4.0.1">>
<<if $krenfollows>>\ I mutter spell after spell, watching as nothing happens each time. It is not until a handful of failed spells later, as well as my ebbing energy, that I remember that the Kren follows us. Their eyes are trained on me, but their hands stay in a position that I know is used for those who are currently casting a spell. An anti-casting spell or something of the sort, something that allows me to exert my energy but not reap the benefits. <<else>>\ I mutter spell after spell, watching as nothing happens each time. It is not until a handful of failed spells later, as well as my ebbing energy, that I realize that a Kren follows us. Their eyes are trained on me, but their hands stay in a position that I know is used for those who are currently casting a spell. An anti-casting spell or something of the sort, something that allows me to exert my energy but not reap the benefits. <</if>>\ <<include "4.0.1">>
<<nobr>><<clear '$weaponInventory'>><<clear '$clothingInventory'>><<clear '$miscInventory'>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<pickup '$miscInventory' 'ludanis pendant'>><<set $energy +=20>><</nobr>> <<nobr>><<pickup '$miscInventory' 'moon pendant'>><<set $pious +=5>><</nobr>> It feels like I’m dragged halfway across Ipharia before we finally arrive at the dungeons. Exterior wise, it seems similar to any of the other brick and stone houses that could be found. The weathered stone was a darker color than the brick that sat above it. And in between the cracks in the masonry, one could find the thriving signs of moss. I’m pushed past the threshold of the building, stumbling over some of the raised floorboards on my way in. The guards care little though, as they continue to lead me deeper into the area, past two guards on duty and to where the cells rest. Wall-mounted torches hang parallel on the walls, one existing between each iron bar cell. My eyes swivel back and forth as I gaze at those inside. Some are curled up on mats, their arms encompassing themselves as they pull their legs close to their chests. Others are pacing back and forth, only pausing as we pass. When we finally come across empty cells, I suspect that we would stop, and they would throw me into one. But my assumptions are proved incorrect, they march me onwards, to the back of the prison where even the soft glow from the torches dare not go. [[“What is the meaning of this?”][$smug -=3]] [[“I’m not going in there.”]] [[Don’t fight this.]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> I look from the cell to them, “what is the meaning of this?” They ignore me, kicking the back of my knees and forcing me to the ground. I open my mouth to continue my protest when a pair of hands lock something around my neck. Panic rises as I claw at it, not knowing what it was. “Calm yourself,” the Kren that had followed us this far states. They hold in their hand a key, dangling it enticingly in front of me. “You now wear a chikrin. Do you know what this is?” <<if $background is "slave_brothel" or $background is "slave_gladiator" or $background is "slave_noble">>\ Of course, I knew what a chikrin was. Any slave that showed the faintest hint of possessing magic was forced to wear it. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<elseif $knowledge>>\ I knew what a chikrin was, and until now took solace in the fact that I never had to deal with the burden of it around my own neck. It was made for slaves that possessed magic. It wasn’t a choice whether they would wear it or not, it was forced upon them. Even on those who showed high comprehension and control of their powers. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I shake my head, never before hearing the word. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will react by emitting a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <a data-passage="4.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“I’m not going in there,” I simply tell them, planting my feet and attempting to fall backward. They grunt as they try to force me back upwards, cursing me as they attempt to do so. I only stop my actions when I feel a pair of hands lock something thick around my neck. Panic rises as I claw at it, not knowing what it was. “Calm yourself,” the Kren that had followed us this far states. They hold in their hand a key, dangling it enticingly in front of me. “You now wear a chikrin. Do you know what this is?” <<if $background is "slave_brothel" or $background is "slave_gladiator" or $background is "slave_noble">>\ Of course, I knew what a chikrin was. Any slave that showed the faintest hint of possessing magic was forced to wear it. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<elseif $knowledge>>\ I knew what a chikrin was, and until now took solace in the fact that I never had to deal with the burden of it around my own neck. It was made for slaves that possessed magic. It wasn’t a choice whether they would wear it or not, it was forced upon them. Even on those who showed high comprehension and control of their powers. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I shake my head, never before hearing the word. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will react by emitting a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <a data-passage="4.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
What was the use of fighting? Whether with my cooperation or not, they were going to get me into that cell. Fighting was now just a waste of energy and time. I watch as they open the door to the cell, right as a pair of hands lock something thick around my neck. My eyes widen in panic as I claw at it, not knowing what it was. “Calm yourself,” the Kren that had followed us this far states. They hold in their hand a key, dangling it enticingly in front of me. “You now wear a chikrin. Do you know what this is?” <<if $background is "slave_brothel" or $background is "slave_gladiator" or $background is "slave_noble">>\ Of course, I knew what a chikrin was. Any slave that showed the faintest hint of possessing magic was forced to wear it. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<elseif $knowledge>>\ I knew what a chikrin was, and until now took solace in the fact that I never had to deal with the burden of it around my own neck. It was made for slaves that possessed magic. It wasn’t a choice whether they would wear it or not, it was forced upon them. Even on those who showed high comprehension and control of their powers. The proper name, of course, was chikrin. But many called it what it was, a magical leash. No amount of magic, not even ones ludá, could be executed as long as it was on. The only way to deactivate it was to get the key and take it off. I nod gravely, and the Kren smiles. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Then I need not explain. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will emit a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “Then I need not explain. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I shake my head, never before hearing the word. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You should also know that if you do attempt to turn into your shadow form, that collar will react by emitting a long flash of light. You’d be wise not to. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <<else>>\ “It is a magical leash to keep witches from executing any and all forms of magic. As long as this sits upon your neck, you will be unable to perform your magic. You will be called upon the day of your trial. Until then, pray to the High Gods and seek their forgiveness.” <</if>>\ <</if>>\ <a data-passage="4.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Immediately upon saying this, the guards shove me into the cell that I find is hardly big enough to fit one person. The cramped space feels like it gets even smaller as they leave me. I soon hear the sound of the door closing, and silence quickly reclaims this area. My eyes stay trained on the area that the guards and the Kren once stood a mere moment ago. My brain knows that I’ve been abandoned, but it still refuses to accept it. It keeps believing that someone will come back, laughing, and state that all of this was a prank put on by my master or the King. Or to come down and beg for my forgiveness as they have found the true culprit. But neither happens. No one returns. Or so I thought. I hear the sound of boots echoing off the floor, their pace quick and determined. Before I can question who it is, they appear. A familiar face that I don't recall seeing in the court, though I suppose that could primarily be due to me not searching. Averill stands there, just as intimidating as the first day that I had seen $ahim with the King. I’m less than surprised to find that $ahis icy glare is cutting through me, judging my every tick and shiver. I fear that looking away would reveal a pang of guilt that I didn’t even hold. “Tell me plainly and //truthfully//,” $ahe growls under $ahis breath, “did you kill my Prince?” [[“The entire court says I did.” Act uncaringly.][$averill -=5]] [[“If you must ask me that then leave.” Show your innocence.][$averill +=5]] [[“And if I did?” Challenge Averill.][$averill -=10; $hostile +=5]] [[♡ “Look me in my eyes, and you tell me.”][$averillLi +1]] [[“My master, though!”][$averill +=2]]
I shrug, acting as if I didn’t care when we both knew that I did. I turn my back to $ahim and walk towards the wall, “the entire court says I’m guilty, so I suppose that I am.” “You treat this as a joke?” I pause, not knowing if $ahe meant that as a question or a statement, either way, I don’t reply. I’ve had the worst day to date and regardless of what I said here, it would continue to be horrible. “I suppose I should thank you then,” $ahe says in disgust, “it is unwise to think you know someone, even a little, in a matter of days.” I turn just in time to see only the tip of $ahis cape as $ahe goes. I was once again left alone, and once again, I felt the weight of the last few hours on my shoulder. [[Yell.]] [[Pound the bars.]] [[Cry.]] [[Go to sleep.]]
I approach the bars, tears threatening to spill from my eyes, “if you must ask me that then just leave, because nothing I say will change your mind.” Averill studies me, the war being held upon $ahis face clear as my predicament. “You can be lying. An assassin is nothing without their deceit.” I wipe at the tears angrily, trying to control myself, “then go. You have your answer.” Why Averill walked all the way here just to ask and then infer that I was guilty was beyond me. But I would rather be left alone than to hear another figure assume me a murderer. When I look over my shoulder to see if Averill was still there, I see no one. I was once again left alone, and once again, I felt the weight of the last few hours weigh on my shoulder. [[Yell.]] [[Pound the bars.]] [[Cry.]] [[Go to sleep.]]
I summon my full height, squaring my shoulders and approach the bars, “and if I did? Then what?” Averill’s neutral expression breaks completely. $aHis eyes light up in fiery and $ahis hands inch closer to where $ahis weapon rests. I even see $ahim adjust $ahis footing as if $ahe would stab me then and there. $aHe was no judge but $ahe seemed willing to take on the roles of jury and executioner. As if remembering that these were not $ahis roles to play, $ahe sighs and drops $ahis stance and hand. $aHe then clears $ahis throat and turns away from me, heading back the way in which $ahe came. I was once again left alone, and once again, I felt the weight of the last few hours on my shoulder. [[Yell.]] [[Pound the bars.]] [[Cry.]] [[Go to sleep.]]
I approach the bars slowly, refusing to drop Averill’s gaze as we stare at one another. I wanted Averill to see me, not to see who the courts and the King tried to paint. The real me, the one that Averill had gotten to know over the past few days. “Look me in my eyes,” I start, my eyes watering as the image of my master comes back to me, “you tell me, did I kill anyone?<<if $masterApp>> After everything I said about him, you tell me if I could’ve possibly killed anyone.”<<else>>”<</if>> Averill doesn’t answer, instead $ahe does as I ask. $aHis eyes bore into mine, attempting to find something that everyone else either cared not to find or was unable too. Averill shivers, clearing $ahis throat as $ahe takes a step back. Without another word said, $ahe leaves, leaving me to wonder what $ahe saw. I was once again left alone, and once again, I felt the weight of the last few hours on my shoulder. [[Yell.]] [[Pound the bars.]] [[Cry.]] [[Go to sleep.]]
Anger courses through me as I approach the bars. If $ahis eyes were a flame waiting to be ignited by my words, then my eyes were already a howling bonfire. “Your Prince? How about my Master?” I yell and punch the bars, causing $ahim to jump back in surprise, “huh? Did everyone forget that my master was killed by someone? Or does his life matter not because he wears no crown?” “If you will not -,” Averill starts, but I cut $ahim off with another fist to the bars. My hands were in pain, but I cared little, if not at all. My master slept in a pool of his own blood, and the only time anyone could remember he existed was to further an erroneous claim on my character. Averill, realizing that $ahe would get nowhere, glares at me and walks away. I was once again left alone, and once again, I felt the weight of the last few hours on my shoulder. [[Yell.]] [[Pound the bars.]] [[Cry.]] [[Go to sleep.]]
I yell and continue to do so. Soon they no longer sound like yells but roars. Roars from a predator that had been bested and left to die perhaps. I suspect that the other prisoners would tell me to shut up, but none do. I am left to howl and scream until my throat goes dry and the sound of my voice annoys even me. Stiffly, I lay down, using my arms as a pillow as I continue to stare at the area that had just held people. People who thought me guilty. My vision warps and twists, taking me back to a simpler time, a more preferred time. <<include "4.1.1">>
I pound the bars, ignoring the pain that speeds up my knuckles and then dies before reaching my elbow. I continue on, sometimes punching the bars and other times hitting it harshly with my palm. My actions don’t cease until minutes later. My knuckles were swollen, and my palms looked ready to split. The pain has since numbed. Stiffly, I lay down, using my arms as a pillow as I continue to stare at the area that had just held people. People who thought me guilty. My vision warps and twists, taking me back to a simpler time, a more preferred time. <<include "4.1.1">>
The day’s events catch up to me and I feel something land on my cheek. I go to wipe it only to realize that it was my own tear. It is then that everything hits me at once. My master was dead. I was accused of two murders. I was standing in prison. My death was inevitable. Stiffly, I lay down, using my arms as a pillow as I continue to stare at the area that had just held people. People who thought me guilty. My vision warps and twists, taking me back to a simpler time, a more preferred time. <<include "4.1.1">>
I back up until the back of my foot hits the dingy mattress that solely decorated the cell, besides that of a small rusty bucket in the corner. Stiffly, I lay down, using my arms as a pillow as I continue to stare at the area that had just held people. People who thought me guilty. My vision warps and twists, taking me back to a simpler time, a more preferred time. <<include "4.1.1">>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> <<if $averillLi >=2>>\ Averill stared at the now-closed door, frowning heavily as $ahis thoughts refused to slow. Either $name was an excellent liar, worthy of accolades and putting even the most legendary bards to shame, or ?he was telling the truth. Averill turned and walked towards the exit, $ahis steps faltering as the guards whispered. $aHe knew what they spoke about, what was on their tongues, but $ahe wished only to deny it and continue on as if everything was normal. Despite their only being a handful of guards present, $ahe felt as if there were hundreds of eyes watching and judging $ahis actions. $aHe picked up $ahis speed, practically darting outside, relieved when the humid air slammed into $ahim, allowing $ahim to catch and slow his breath. Everyone now looked at $ahim the same, as if $ahe was some dimwitted lost pup who couldn’t tell the difference between a pen and a blade. Who allowed an assassin to toss their country into turmoil. “Will you be alright?” Ser Federic asked as he approached, leaning his shoulder onto the patterned brick building, his eyes taking in Averill’s form. “I’m fine,” Averill lied. $aHis eyes darted to $ahis friend, $ahis stomach churning, “how bad is it?” “Do you really wish to know?” Federic questioned, brow raised. “I asked.” He sighed, looking elsewhere, “many feel, at most, pity for you. Believing that $name used you to get closer to the Prince. At worst, few believe you told $name of the Prince’s schedule, assisting in a way.” Averill’s stomach now roared, $ahe definitely felt like vomiting. Did $ahis King think the same? A warm hand lowered itself onto $ahis shoulder causing $ahim to jump, only calming when $ahe saw it was only Federic, of course, it was only him. “Don’t be hard on yourself, Averill, it wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell victim to a pair of pretty eyes. In your case, pretty and highly unique. No one blames you. No one, not even the King, could have suspected $name was capable of such a feat.” <a data-passage="4.1.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ //I take one last deep breath as I straighten my clothes and fix my person. In my mind, a dozen ways of how this could possibly go wrong play out. Nidinia, the land of diversity, and yet the epicenter of so much hate and bigotry. I suppose that was the countries greatest excuse; it was because of such variety that gave it the ability to be so hateful. Species forced to intermingle and given the ability to judge another how they saw fit. But then again, other countries could say the same.// //This was all going through my mind as I tried to figure out what kind of man Master Audouin would be. I had heard the stories told by apprentices who had met their masters, only to be ridiculed and turned away because of class, species, or gender. How they were refused simply because of their appearance. One such ex-apprentice told me how their potential master had seen the scars upon his skin and immediately sent him away, refusing to teach him anything.// [[It was all a ploy, trying to force more of us to seek the aid of the colleges.|4.1.3]] [[It was their right, whether or not I agreed with it mattered little.|4.1.3]] [[They didn’t deserve to be teachers anyhow. No one would remember their names.|4.1.3]] <</if>>\
“I … I don’t know if ?he did it … if ?he killed them.” Averill frowned at $ahis own words, “I have my doubts.” <<if $masterApp>>\ “It’s fine to doubt, but,” Federic began, but Averill stopped him. “No, you didn’t hear how ?he spoke of ?his master. ?He held nothing but love for the man. A fight would not have prompted such a reaction. ?He … ?he couldn’t.” Averill began to shake, screaming at $ahimself for being so foolish. The evidence was stacked on one side, $ahis prince was lying in $ahis own blood, and $ahe was attempting to exonerate the murderer. <</if>>\ “Well, stop, you’ll drive yourself crazy,” Federic scolded. “I’m already driving myself crazy!” Averill growled, throwing $ahis hands to the sky as $ahe stepped away from the prison. $aHe needed to get away from it, away from the thought of $name and what ?he did. “You knew the witch for all of two days. We all know how you are romantic wise, Averill. And even I will admit that you fell pretty hard, but what is it about them that is making you like this?” Averill couldn’t answer, and that was what bothered $ahim most of all. What was it? What caused $ahim to overlook the fact that $name was a murderer … potential murderer. $aHe growled at the lack of doubt that still plagued $ahim. $aHe had no answers, and $ahe desperately wanted them. Thankfully, Federic seemed to understand that he would receive no response. “Pull yourself together, Averill. You’re not only a King’s guard, but you’re a General. If the others see you falling apart like this, for someone you barely know, they will question, and that is what you want to avoid. You say you have doubts, but you of all people know how quickly these things can take a turn. How those not even involved end up suffering.” Averill closed $ahis eyes, knowing Federic spoke truthfully but wishing he hadn’t brought //that// situation up. “Come, we should be by the King’s side, not checking in on murderers.” Averill steeled $ahimself, or at least $ahe attempted to. $aHe felt worse than before, far more trapped and blameworthy than $ahe should feel. <a data-passage="4.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//And now I walk, wondering if the man I was about to meet would be one of those. Just like he didn’t know my face, my gender, or species, I knew little of him. I knew only as much as he had written when he accepted to mentor me. He asked few questions, none of them having to do with me as much as it had to do with my experience in magic and random subjects that I fail to see as relevant.// //What is your favorite season? What about colors? Your favorite scents, and if you had to survive off of one thing, what would it be? All questions that made little sense on the topic of mentoring.// //My thoughts lead me to his door, the directions that the young man had given me proving accurate. I enter the shop, immediately taking in the smell of mint and lavender.// //“Stop!” a man shouts, and I look to see an Ecrid standing on top of a chair, his eyes wide, and a broom in his hands.// //“I did not mean to trespass,” I tell him, slowly raising my hands in surrender.// //“Shh,” is all he says as he gazes around. Barely a minute passes before he screeches and lunges towards something I fail to see. I hear a loud growl and a catcoon flies by overhead, jumping onto a nearby end table before jumping out the window. With eyes wide, I turn back to the man, still wielding the broom.// //“If you’re a customer, then pretend you didn’t see anything. If you’re my new apprentice, then get used to it. I swear you feed one catcoon, one time, and they act like they’re the king and you owe them everything.” He stomps away as he continues to rant, and after getting rid of my initial shock, I follow after him.// [[“Don’t you know never to feed a catcoon?”]] [[“I made that mistake once too.”]] [[“I’m your new apprentice.”]]
//“Don’t you know never to feed a catcoon?” I question as he walks past me, going towards a pile of papers.// //“Sure, you say that now. But look one in the eye around feeding time, and you tell me how easy it is to say no. And don’t get me started on the purring. Damn sound breaks my heart.” He stands back up after rummaging through the pile with a book in his hands.// //He raises an intrigued brow, but he shoos his own curiosity away, “a conversation for another time. Come, I should show you where you’ll be living and the intricacies of the town. Though I highly doubt you need it, this town is quite simple, if not charming at times. Just stay away from the shaman and his soup.” He continues to prattle as he leads me outside, informing me of everything I need to know. He was eccentric, I give him that, and I found myself interested in what the future now held.// <a data-passage="4.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//“If it means anything to you, I once made that mistake once as well. Cost me a good amount of ruho and my dinner, two nights in a row,” I inform him, stepping out of his way as he goes to a pile of papers. He digs through them and stands, a book now in his hands.// //“Those beasts will eat you out of house and home and not blink an eye over it,” he chuckles.// //He raises an intrigued brow, but he shoos his own curiosity away, “a conversation for another time. Come, I should show you where you’ll be living and the intricacies of the town. Though I highly doubt you need it, this town is quite simple, if not charming at times. Just stay away from the shaman and his soup.” He continues to prattle as he leads me outside, informing me of everything I need to know. He was eccentric, I give him that, and I found myself interested in what the future now held.// <a data-passage="4.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
//“I’m $name $surname, your new apprentice,” I tell him, outstretching my hand for him to shake.// //“No need for formalities,” he tells me, though he shakes my hand regardless, “they’re far too stiff and make me feel like I’m important.”// //“You aren’t?” I ask, stepping out of his way as he goes to a pile of papers. He digs through them and stands, a book now in his hands.// //“I am but an Ecrid who found his way obsessed with magic, and stupid enough to run a shop.”// //He looks up at me and pauses, “how dense am I? Will you need any assistance?”// //“Why would I?”// //“You are blind, are you not?”// //“Oh,” I snicker and wave him away, “my eyes just look like this.”// //He raises an intrigued brow, but he shoos his own curiosity away, “a conversation for another time. Come, I should show you where you’ll be living and the intricacies of the town. Though I highly doubt you need it, this town is quite simple, if not charming at times. Just stay away from the shaman and his soup.” He continues to prattle as he leads me outside, informing me of everything I need to know. He was eccentric, I give him that, and I found myself interested in what the future now held.// <a data-passage="4.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> I know not when my eyes close. Nor do I know how long the man standing in front of my cell has been there. It takes a while for my eyes to readjust, the only light I was receiving was from the small window that allowed the daylight to pass inside unhindered. As soon as I see who is there, the man laughs, doubling over in hysterics. “I don’t know what’s better,” Ansellus sighs in happiness, wiping a tear from his eye lazily, “seeing you behind bars with that collar on or knowing that after everyone disregarded my warnings, I was right. You were not to be trusted.” [[“Ansellus, please, listen to me.”]] [[“And you’re still just as ugly.”][$ansellus -=5]] [[Turn my back to him.][$ansellus +=3]]
“Ansellus,” I exclaim, probably the happiest I’ve ever been to see him, “please, listen to me. You and I both know I didn’t do this.” I rise and go to the bars, getting a closer look at him and looking to see if anyone else had come as well. “We do, do we?” he snickers, cocking his head to the side. “What possible reason would I have to kill my master?!” “<<if $redhanded>>I don’t know but they caught you red-handed, literally. I'm going to guess that you just got really sick of the old man?<<else>>I don't know, maybe you were done learning all you could, or maybe he refused to teach you something you wanted to learn. Maybe you just really got sick of the old man?<</if>>” “And I choose here, this place out of any other, to kill him? That’s idiotic.” “No one ever said you were smart, $name,” he chuckles in delight. “Ansellus, you hate me. I know that.” <<if $ansellus >=40>>\ He laughs, a confused edge to it, “hate you? Where’d you get that crazy idea?” I wait, knowing that an insult was to follow. “I dislike you, yes. But I don’t hate you. Truthfully, the only reason I don’t like you is because you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and you lie to the town about your dreams.” [[“I didn’t lie to anyone.”][$ansellus -=3]] [[“Will you help me?”][$ansellus +=3]] <<else>>\ He laughs, a confused edge to it, “oh, $name, he starts, “I don’t hate you. That would require me to actually put forth effort into caring.” [[“High Gods know you never do that.”][$ansellus -=3]] [[“Regardless, this isn’t about us.”][$ansellus +=2]] <</if>>\
I frown, “I don’t lie to anyone. Say what you want about me being a witch, but my dreams aren’t lies.” “So says the murderer,” he snorts and shrugs his shoulders, “did your dreams tell you that you’ll end up here?” “No, but –” “Then I think we should take your dreams for what they are, just dreams. Not prophecies or some special witch power. You have a dream, and somehow you were able to convince an entire town that it was something special. Well,” he states and backs away from my cell, “let’s see you convince an entire kingdom.” I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I ignore the comment, the last thing I needed was to get Ansellus off my side. “Will you help me, Ansellus?” “Help you? With what?” “With telling them the truth about me. Testifying for my character. Whatever I am to you, you know I’m no murderer.” He bites the inside of his cheek and gazes at the ground. He then turns on his heel and walks off, not saying anything more. Seeing that that wasn’t an Ansellus thing to do, I could only hope that he would take this seriously. He was a lot of things; I was hoping that a willing participant to another’s execution wasn’t one of them. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I roll my eyes, “and High Gods know you never put forth effort into anything … at all.” I smirk as his smile vanishes, and he sends me a scowl, though that too disappears. He stands up straighter and looks around at my prison. “Doesn’t matter what you say. You’re going to rot in here. I’m still shocked you thought you’d get away with this. But, like I said before, no one ever said you were smart.” “Did you come all the way here just to berate me?” “I also came to laugh. See you at the trial, $name.” With that, he waves goodbye and walks off, still chuckling as he goes. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I sigh, fighting back an insult, “regardless, this isn’t about us. You have to speak about my character, I could die because of this.” For the first time ever, I see Ansellus drop the act, his light smile gives way to a severe frown, and his eyes look me over, judging me. “You’re right.” He bites the inside of his cheek and gazes at the ground. He then turns on his heel and walks off, not saying anything more. Seeing that that wasn’t an Ansellus thing to do, I could only hope that he would take this seriously. He was a lot of things; I was hoping that a willing participant to another’s execution wasn’t one of them. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I snort, getting up slowly as I came to the bars, “and you’re still just as ugly.” His nostrils flare at the insult and he takes a threatening step closer, as if I should fear him. “You’re behind bars and collared like some kind of mutt and you still can utter out insults?” he snorts humorlessly, “either you’re stupid or you just don’t understand what kind of trouble you’re in.” “I know exactly where I stand. And I know I’m innocent.” “Hey!” Ansellus shouts, looking down the hall to where the other cells lie, “are you guys innocent?” A chorus of yes’s are shouted back though I hear one voice tell him to shut up. Ansellus looks back at me with a wide smile. [[“You can leave now.”]] [[Slam him into the bars.][$ansellus -=5]] [[“You better hope I never get out.”][$ansellus -=2]] [[Go back to my mat.][$ansellus +=2]]
I narrow my gaze on him and point down the hallway, “you can leave now.” “Or what?” he asks but I don’t answer, turning my back to him and returning to my mat. I was no longer in the mood for guests. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I bite the inside of my cheek, part of my brain telling me to not do what I had thought of, the other part encouraging me, screaming at me to do it. And so I do. I reach out, and before Ansellus can figure out what’s going on, I grab ahold of his shirt. Barely flexing a muscle, I pull my arm back and watch as Ansellus’s head is the first to make an impact with the thick iron bars. He groans in anguish as I look on with a smirk. “You will pay,” he growls, holding his forehead, “I will make sure to see you burn.” Before I can say anything else, he turns and speedily leaves the area. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I narrow my gaze and try to stand as tall as possible, “you better hope I never get out.” For a minute, I see fear etch itself onto Ansellus’s face. But then, a second later, it’s gone. He smirks and shrugs nonchalantly, leaving the way he came. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I have nothing left to say and simply wish for him to leave me to the silence. I turn my back to him and go back to my mat. For a while, he remains. Blurting out insult after insult. But once he realizes that I’m no longer entertaining him, he gives up and goes. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I sigh and turn around so that I was now facing the depressing slate grey stones. From this distance, I could see every blemish that they hold. I noticed the tiny critters that ran across them, soon to disappear within the cracks. I even smelled the foul scent that probably lingered on the other side. It smelled an awful a lot like sewage, but that could be from the bucket in the corner. I hadn’t gone over to see if it was empty or not. Ansellus continues to mock me but soon leaves when he finds that I won’t entertain him any. I didn’t hold the energy or care. I sit with my back against the wall, realizing that I had nothing better to do than to think. To think about what would become of me and how I could possibly get out of this. Think about what was going on outside these stone walls, and what was being said about me. My name dragged through all kinds of dirt and crap. Rumors sprouting up about how I did this. Today was supposed to be the Prince’s coronation, and instead, the kingdom was mourning his death. [[I mostly thought about the real culprit.]] [[I couldn’t get my mind off of my master.]] [[I thought about my upcoming trial.]]
I didn’t kill my master or the prince, but someone did. Who, was the question. I could think of many who would want to kill the next in line to receive the crown, but who would want to kill a witch? Master Audouin had nothing to his name. He was a fine herbalist, but only those who knew him knew such thing. The coincidence of the killing meant that it was probably the same person. But who? And why frame me? <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> What felt like hours passed by before I hear the gruff voice of one of the prison guards and the rickety wheels of a cart. “Dinner’s here, animals,” I hear him say, followed by the slight sound of metal clattering against the hard-stone floor. There’s a gap in the noise each time I listen to it. I hadn’t counted how many prisoners were in here while they escorted me in, I estimated that it was at least twelve others though. I wait patiently for him to make his way to me, my stomach growling in anticipation. But I hear the sound of the doors above closing before I ever hear the chattering wheels. “Hey!” I shout, clinging to the bars, squishing my face up against them as I try to get a better look down the torch-lit hall, “I’m still down here.” I hear no response. The other prisoners are too busy counting their blessings to care much about the misfortune of someone that’s not them. My breath escapes me as my stomach continues to growl, incessantly now that it knew food was supposed to come. I don’t feel myself sit; my mind was far too busy trying to figure out one question that had no right to be so difficult. How? <a data-passage="4.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Master Audouin was a simple man. A simple man who merely wanted to be left to his plants. I remember how excited he would get when speaking of his travels, and the understanding that he would travel once again in the future. He didn’t have to accept me, but he did. He had so much to teach me, so much that I knew he wanted to show me, and now his murder would never be solved. They simply took who was closest to him and placed it upon ?his head. My master deserved a proper funeral, and I feared he would never get it. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> What felt like hours passed by before I hear the gruff voice of one of the prison guards and the rickety wheels of a cart. “Dinner’s here, animals,” I hear him say, followed by the slight sound of metal clattering against the hard-stone floor. There’s a gap in the noise each time I listen to it. I hadn’t counted how many prisoners were in here while they escorted me in, I estimated that it was at least twelve others though. I wait patiently for him to make his way to me, my stomach growling in anticipation. But I hear the sound of the doors above closing before I ever hear the chattering wheels. “Hey!” I shout, clinging to the bars, squishing my face up against them as I try to get a better look down the torch-lit hall, “I’m still down here.” I hear no response. The other prisoners are too busy counting their blessings to care much about the misfortune of someone that’s not them. My breath escapes me as my stomach continues to growl, incessantly now that it knew food was supposed to come. I don’t feel myself sit; my mind was far too busy trying to figure out one question that had no right to be so difficult. How? <a data-passage="4.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
How was one supposed to defend themself when there was no proof? The only evidence of my innocence was lying in his own blood. No one else knew of my whereabouts, and I even had two people who said that they saw me enter and leave the prince’s room. This trial would be built up of those who wished to see me fall, for reasons I didn’t know. I would sit there, listening to their lies and allegations and wouldn’t be able to say anything. Would I receive a public execution, or would they simply throw me back here, to rot? <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> What felt like hours passed by before I hear the gruff voice of one of the prison guards and the rickety wheels of a cart. “Dinner’s here, animals,” I hear him say, followed by the slight sound of metal clattering against the hard-stone floor. There’s a gap in the noise each time I listen to it. I hadn’t counted how many prisoners were in here while they escorted me in, I estimated that it was at least twelve others though. I wait patiently for him to make his way to me, my stomach growling in anticipation. But I hear the sound of the doors above closing before I ever hear the chattering wheels. “Hey!” I shout, clinging to the bars, squishing my face up against them as I try to get a better look down the torch-lit hall, “I’m still down here.” I hear no response. The other prisoners are too busy counting their blessings to care much about the misfortune of someone that’s not them. My breath escapes me as my stomach continues to growl, incessantly now that it knew food was supposed to come. I don’t feel myself sit; my mind was far too busy trying to figure out one question that had no right to be so difficult. How? <a data-passage="4.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>><<set $misattuned = true>><</nobr>> Within these gloomy, bare stone walls one would presume that their thoughts would be loudest. And yet, mine are quite reticent. Whispers ghost across the lastingly clammy walls that make up my prison. Walls that chipped away at strong spirits and souls, and greedily clawed at prayers that were meant to be sent out. The brilliance of the sun outside does little to cheer up the cell, in fact, it was as if it’s brilliance couldn’t truly penetrate the walls. The light that entered was, in a way, dull. Reminding me more so of a fog than a ray of sunlight. Surrounded by blank walls, there was little else to do but stare at them and attempt to decipher whatever message they held. I traced my eyes from hole to hole, noticing the gouges that other prisoners had probably left. Noticing the scattering basal art here and there, many just of frowny faces or of a horribly drawn figure being hung. I wished to know the stone’s secrets to learn what it meant to tell me. Only to then discover that they held no deeper meaning. That their blank stare was just that. <<if $care >=50>>\ [[I sat in my own anger.][$chakra = "navel"]] <</if>>\ <<if $allforone >=50>>\ [[I sat with my guilt.][$chakra = "sacral"]] <</if>>\ [[I begged for a dream.][$chakra = "heart"; $stat_optimism = true]] [[I added my own art.][$chakra = "throat"]] <<if $pious >=5>>\ [[I prayed to the gods.][$chakra = "crown"]] <</if>>\
As the light came and went, my anger and hatred towards those responsible grew. Everyone, even faces I couldn’t put names to, earned a spot in watching my anger fester. My heart grew cold though it felt like it was on fire. Everyone had a hand in my current circumstance, and everyone deserved to pay. Injustice. The one word that coursed through my veins, heating my blood and causing my vision to blur with tears of anger. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> In my dream, I find myself standing in a dark alley that is not familiar to me. Overhead rests the eclipse, hardly any light breaking the atmosphere to light my way. The alley is silent. I hear nothing and sense nothing. Only my sense of sight is alive, my eyes flickering to every shadow and sliding across the walls as if they held a secret. I doubt that. I was far more curious of the nature of the dream, seeing that the chikrin was supposed to stop one from practicing their ludá. It is then that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand. I sense that no one is near, but the feeling of someone being right behind me pokes at my mind. It screams at me, telling me to turn and face them. [[Turn.|4.3Turn][$hostile -=2]] [[Attack.|4.3Attack][$hostile +=2]] [[Stay.|4.3Stay][$hostile -=2]]
As the light came and went, my shadow stayed there. It stared at me with pity and disgust, obviously knowing something that I didn’t. “This is all your fault, you know that, right?” it told me, saying it as if it was as clear as knowing that the sky and sun existed outside these walls. I continue to sit and listen to it as vile things spewed from its lips. It gave me the key to all of this, if I had just stayed in Akrisos, denied coming. If I had kept my gift to myself, as well as my thoughts. If I had just kept traveling. If … <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> In my dream, I find myself standing in a dark alley that is not familiar to me. Overhead rests the eclipse, hardly any light breaking the atmosphere to light my way. The alley is silent. I hear nothing and sense nothing. Only my sense of sight is alive, my eyes flickering to every shadow and sliding across the walls as if they held a secret. I doubt that. I was far more curious of the nature of the dream, seeing that the chikrin was supposed to stop one from practicing their ludá. It is then that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand. I sense that no one is near, but the feeling of someone being right behind me pokes at my mind. It screams at me, telling me to turn and face them. [[Turn.|4.3Turn][$hostile -=2]] [[Attack.|4.3Attack][$hostile +=2]] [[Stay.|4.3Stay][$hostile -=2]]
The light drifting into the cell came and went, each time it caused me to inch further into myself. Into the misjustice that I was experiencing. No food, no water, not even a checkup. I beg for a dream. Not because it would give me something else to think about but because I needed some kind of hope. A vision would mean that there was a future, that my life would not end here. I needed something to cling to. This whole ordeal was due to my vision and my stupid eyes, so it was only fair that it would come to me. How did I possess such a great gift with no control, no knowledge about what it meant? And, when I needed it most, it abandoned me. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> In my dream, I find myself standing in a dark alley that is not familiar to me. Overhead rests the eclipse, hardly any light breaking the atmosphere to light my way. The alley is silent. I hear nothing and sense nothing. Only my sense of sight is alive, my eyes flickering to every shadow and sliding across the walls as if they held a secret. I doubt that. I was far more curious of the nature of the dream, seeing that the chikrin was supposed to stop one from practicing their ludá. It is then that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand. I sense that no one is near, but the feeling of someone being right behind me pokes at my mind. It screams at me, telling me to turn and face them. [[Turn.|4.3Turn][$hostile -=2]] [[Attack.|4.3Attack][$hostile +=2]] [[Stay.|4.3Stay][$hostile -=2]]
As the light came and went, I sit by the stone and add my own pieces of art. Using a shard from the rusty bucket, I chip away at the stone, ignoring the pain that grasping the shard caused. In the last few days, pain had become a funny word. A word that I typically used only when my master would discipline me with a light pinch on the arm. Yet now, it held so many different meanings that I hardly was able to keep up. Everything hurt, and yet, nothing did. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> In my dream, I find myself standing in a dark alley that is not familiar to me. Overhead rests the eclipse, hardly any light breaking the atmosphere to light my way. The alley is silent. I hear nothing and sense nothing. Only my sense of sight is alive, my eyes flickering to every shadow and sliding across the walls as if they held a secret. I doubt that. I was far more curious of the nature of the dream, seeing that the chikrin was supposed to stop one from practicing their ludá. It is then that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand. I sense that no one is near, but the feeling of someone being right behind me pokes at my mind. It screams at me, telling me to turn and face them. [[Turn.|4.3Turn][$hostile -=2]] [[Attack.|4.3Attack][$hostile +=2]] [[Stay.|4.3Stay][$hostile -=2]]
As the light came and went, I would utter short prayers, fearing that if I muttered them any louder then the walls would claim them. Perhaps they were claiming even my short ones, and maybe that was why the gods didn’t answer. Or maybe this was their answer. This was their divine will and Fate had enough of seeing to my path, and so she abandoned me. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> In my dream, I find myself standing in a dark alley that is not familiar to me. Overhead rests the eclipse, hardly any light breaking the atmosphere to light my way. The alley is silent. I hear nothing and sense nothing. Only my sense of sight is alive, my eyes flickering to every shadow and sliding across the walls as if they held a secret. I doubt that. I was far more curious of the nature of the dream, seeing that the chikrin was supposed to stop one from practicing their ludá. It is then that the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand. I sense that no one is near, but the feeling of someone being right behind me pokes at my mind. It screams at me, telling me to turn and face them. [[Turn.|4.3Turn][$hostile -=2]] [[Attack.|4.3Attack][$hostile +=2]] [[Stay.|4.3Stay][$hostile -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> I close my eyes and turn, opening them mid-turn. Part of me expects no one to be there, for the previous feeling to all be part of the secrecy that my dreams normally haul with them. Though, this should be classified as a nightmare, seeing that I was aware of the unnatural landscape and knowing that this wasn’t real. Imagine my shock when there is indeed someone there. They are a stranger to me, and yet something about them makes me feel as if I know them. “Here we are again,” a wicked voice states, and a chill sprints up my spine, clinging to me in fear. I had heard this voice before, in a nightmare that seems distant to me now. Memories of that dream come to me, reminding me of a figure, running. And another chasing them with ease. And when they caught up to them, the pursuer took that which was sacred from the other. “You,” I manage to mumble. It simply grins and reaches forward, harshly tapping my forehead. A vociferous ringing takes over as if a great bell was being rung right outside of my ear. I clench my eyes closed and bring my hands to my head, feeling a cold liquid spread across my head. I bring my hands back to see a thick white liquid resting there. The fluid continues to run down my face and against my better judgment, I touch my eyes, both of them still there. Instead, the unusual blood originates from a wound centered between my brows. I look for the culprit but only see its fading figure, it waves back at me casually. “You weren’t using it anyway,” it shouts back. I rush after it, only to awaken by the sound of someone gasping. At first, I think that I was the one who gasped, but looking towards the bars, I find who it was. <a data-passage="4.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> I take a deep breath in and then turn around, my hand swinging through the air to collide with whatever stood there. Part of me expects no one to be there, for the previous feeling to all be part of the secrecy that my dreams regularly haul with them. Though, this should be classified as a nightmare, seeing that I was aware of the unnatural landscape and knowing that this wasn’t real. Imagine my shock when my hand not only collides with something but even further, the figure has caught my hand. They are a stranger to me, and yet something about them makes me feel as if I know them. They release my hand casually. “Here we are again,” a wicked voice states, and a chill sprints up my spine, clinging to me in fear. I had heard this voice before, in a nightmare that seems distant to me now. Memories of that dream come to me, reminding me of a figure, running. And another chasing them with ease. And when they caught up to them, the pursuer took that which was sacred from the other. “You,” I manage to mumble. It simply grins and reaches forward, harshly tapping my forehead. A vociferous ringing takes over as if a great bell was being rung right outside of my ear. I clench my eyes closed and bring my hands to my head, feeling a cold liquid spread across my head. I bring my hands back to see a thick white liquid resting there. The fluid continues to run down my face and against my better judgment, I touch my eyes, both of them still there. Instead, the unusual blood originates from a wound centered between my brows. I look for the culprit but only see its fading figure, it waves back at me casually. “You weren’t using it anyway,” it shouts back. I rush after it, only to awaken by the sound of someone gasping. At first, I think that I was the one who gasped, but looking towards the bars, I find who it was. <a data-passage="4.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> I refuse to turn around, to see what was behind me, if anything was. I just wanted to wake up. I clench my eyes closed and tell myself to awaken. When I open them, a figure stands before me, looking terribly unamused. They are a stranger to me, and yet something about them makes me feel as if I know them. “Here we are again,” a wicked voice states, and a chill sprints up my spine, clinging to me in fear. I had heard this voice before, in a nightmare that seems distant to me now. Memories of that dream come to me, reminding me of a figure, running. And another chasing them with ease. And when they caught up to them, the pursuer took that which was sacred from the other. “You,” I manage to mumble. It simply grins and reaches forward, harshly tapping my forehead. A vociferous ringing takes over as if a great bell was being rung right outside of my ear. I clench my eyes closed and bring my hands to my head, feeling a cold liquid spread across my head. I bring my hands back to see a thick white liquid resting there. The fluid continues to run down my face and against my better judgment, I touch my eyes, both of them still there. Instead, the unusual blood originates from a wound centered between my brows. I look for the culprit but only see its fading figure, it waves back at me casually. “You weren’t using it anyway,” it shouts back. I rush after it, only to awaken by the sound of someone gasping. At first, I think that I was the one who gasped, but looking towards the bars, I find who it was. <a data-passage="4.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Isaak!” I shout and practically sprint to the bars. My voice feels as if it was not my own, and I’m reminded of my dream. I bring my fingers to the area that was bleeding, but it comes away blood-free, albeit dirty. <<if $isaak >=50>>\ Isaak doesn’t immediately say anything as he looks me over. Initially, I believe the look in his eyes perfectly mirrors that of someone gazing upon a stranger, but upon closer inspection, I see the war there. He didn’t believe what he heard out there. “Do you believe what they say?” I ask carefully. Isaak’s gaze meets the floor, and he despairingly shifts from one foot to the other, “no. But that makes all this worse, right? I mean, I believe you’re innocent but what if I’m wrong, or what if you are and you still …” Isaak doesn’t finish his sentence, nor does he pick up his gaze. [[“You’ll vouch for me, right?”]] [[“I am innocent. That’s the truth.”]] [[“If I’m seen guilty, I want you to leave.”]] <<else>>\ Isaak doesn’t immediately say anything as he looks me over. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to see it, he looks me over as if I was a stranger. He regards me with such cold air that even I wonder if this was really Isaak, perhaps my mind was playing more tricks on me. “I can’t believe it … it’s true,” he murmurs, taking a cautious step back. [[“You can’t tell me you believe those lies.”]] [[“What are you doing here?”]] [[“What have you heard?”]] <</if>>\
“You’ll vouch for me, right? When they call you up?” “Do you think they will?” he questions, “I feel like they’ll think I’m just trying to keep you from being executed.” “You are,” I point out, though I did understand what he meant as well. Isaak’s next words are drowned out by the sound of my stomach growling loudly, perhaps keen on eating Isaak himself. I’m reminded that since being here, I haven’t had anything to eat, though it wasn’t something that was easily forgettable either. “When’s the last time you ate?” he questions, opening his pack. I don’t answer, instead I watch his movements, my mouth parting as it guesses to what he was searching for. He pulls out a lump of something covered by a cloth, upon unwrapping it I see that it was bread. He passes it to me and like a feral animal, I snatch the bread and devour it. My stomach roars, demanding more though upon realizing that there was none, quiets down. “I … well then,” Isaak coughs, shaking the crumbs free from the cloth before putting it back into his sack. “I should go. The guards didn’t look happy about letting me in in the first place.” [[Let Isaak go on his way.]] [[“Thank you for coming to see me.”][$isaak +=3]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<<else>>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<</if>> <</if>>
“I am innocent,” I tell him matter-of-factly, “that’s the truth. Whatever they’re saying is a lie. They needed a scapegoat, and I fit.” “You think someone framed you?” “I know someone framed me, the question is who and why. They said they saw me go into the Prince’s room before he was killed. I hadn’t visited the Prince at all that night. The only person I saw was Master Audouin, and that was when …” My voice trails off, and I’m sure Isaak can fill in the blanks. Isaak’s next words are drowned out by the sound of my stomach growling loudly, perhaps keen on eating Isaak himself. I’m reminded that since being here, I haven’t had anything to eat, though it wasn’t something that was easily forgettable either. “When’s the last time you ate?” he questions, opening his pack. I don’t answer, instead I watch his movements, my mouth parting as it guesses to what he was searching for. He pulls out a lump of something covered by a cloth, upon unwrapping it I see that it was bread. He passes it to me and like a feral animal, I snatch the bread and devour it. My stomach roars, demanding more though upon realizing that there was none, quiets down. “I … well then,” Isaak coughs, shaking the crumbs free from the cloth before putting it back into his sack. “I should go. The guards didn’t look happy about letting me in in the first place.” [[Let Isaak go on his way.]] [[“Thank you for coming to see me.”][$isaak +=3]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<<else>>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<</if>> <</if>>
“If the worst-case scenario happens, I don’t want you privy to it, understand?” “You want me to leave after the judgment is passed?” “Yes. If you see me walk back into Akrisos, then you know the results, otherwise …” Isaak whimpers, those large olive melancholy eyes begging me to have hope that I wasn’t sure I still possessed. Isaak’s next words are drowned out by the sound of my stomach growling loudly, perhaps keen on eating Isaak himself. I’m reminded that since being here, I haven’t had anything to eat, though it wasn’t something that was easily forgettable either. “When’s the last time you ate?” he questions, opening his pack. I don’t answer, instead I watch his movements, my mouth parting as it guesses to what he was searching for. He pulls out a lump of something covered by a cloth, upon unwrapping it I see that it was bread. He passes it to me and like a feral animal, I snatch the bread and devour it. My stomach roars, demanding more though upon realizing that there was none, quiets down. “I … well then,” Isaak coughs, shaking the crumbs free from the cloth before putting it back into his sack. “I should go. The guards didn’t look happy about letting me in in the first place.” [[Let Isaak go on his way.]] [[“Thank you for coming to see me.”][$isaak +=3]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<<else>>[[Squeeze his hand.][$isaakLi +=1; $isaak +=3]]<</if>> <</if>>
I nod to him in understanding, going back to my corner and thinking about how long it would be now. <<include "4.5">>
“Thank you, Isaak.” He nods and though he looks as if he was tempted to stay, wills himself to walk off. <<include "4.5">>
Before he could go, I cover his hand with my own, squeezing it reassuringly. The action alone causes a blush to bloom, one that he tries to cover with a forced cough. “Thank you, Isaak.” He nods and though he looks as if he was tempted to stay, wills himself to walk off. <<include "4.5">>
I snarl at his words, “you can’t tell me you believe those lies?” He visibly shakes, “at first I didn’t. But it’s not like I know the real you anyway. Who am I to assume what you’re capable of?” “Isaak!” I growl, growing alarmingly frustrated by his words and pounding the bars, “this is me! I am no murderer.” “Ipharia claims differently. No one outside these walls believes you innocent. A few are surprised at best, but that is the only kindness you will receive.” “And you’re one of them?” I take a step back, realization and understanding both lowering their cumbersome selves onto my shoulders. I was going to be executed, and no one would care. He wavers, biting his lower lip as he brings his swanik closer around him. He attempts to find words. To make this easier, for him or for me, I wonder? Upon finding none, he murmurs an apology and walks away, leaving much like an apparition would. <a data-passage="4.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I cock my head to the side, many questions filling my mind but one beating the others, “what are you doing here?” “The King … he sent an envoy to Akrisos to bring witnesses back for the trial. The envoy wanted anyone who knew you well enough, and so only the <<if $tJeffrey>>shaman, me, and Jeffrey<<else>>shaman and me<</if>> came.” “You are to speak for my character?” He nods. “What will you say?” Isaak visibly gulps, and again I feel as if I’m talking to Ansellus, knowing that he would rather see me die than help me. “Isaak!” I shout pleadingly, hitting the bars as I look at him in dismay. Who did I have left? Who left knew me, knew that I would not do such a thing? I back away and in return, Isaak murmurs a quick apology and flees back down the hallway. The answer was no one, I had no one left. <a data-passage="4.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I glance behind me at the lone window, turning back to face Isaak, “what have you heard?” <<if $guardfight>>\ He visibly gulps and pulls on parts of his swanik, adjusting it though it didn’t need it. “Some are saying you killed the Prince because you were jealous, and others are saying you did so because you wished to displease the Queen. I’ve heard some say that you did it because you saw him unfit to rule. They also said you killed Master Audouin … I don’t wish to repeat the rumors of why. Oh, and that you kinda attacked the King’s guards.” <<else>>\ He visibly gulps and pulls on parts of his swanik, adjusting it though it didn’t need it. “Some are saying you killed the Prince because you were jealous, and others are saying you did so because you wished to displease the Queen. I’ve heard some say that you did it because you saw him unfit to rule. They also said you killed Master Audouin … I don’t wish to repeat the rumors of why.” <</if>>\ “That is the only true one,” I snort. Though Isaak refuses to tell me what the people were saying about my master’s death, I believe I could easily defend myself there. Killing my master was idiotic, and anyone who knew our relationship knew so. The Prince’s death, though, that was a different subject and one that I knew they would care nothing for my words. Not only was the Prince killed, but he was killed the day he was meant to take on the crown, and his father’s sickness was only escalating. Whoever planned this was smart, and whether or not the King wished to admit it, knew the King’s fate. Which made me such an easy target. When I glance back up, Isaak is gone. I’m unsurprised that he left without a goodbye or a final word. I’m sure he believed he was speaking to a murderer, a ghost of the person he used to know. I had more to worry about anyway. <a data-passage="4.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> I was none the wiser to what day it was. After Isaak’s visit, everything seems to flash by in a blur. I strain myself to remember how much time passed by or what even happened, yet I can’t recall anything. It was as if there was a portion of my memory missing, discarded due to its lack of importance. The prison’s guards now stand before me, along with the Kren and another man who was dressed similarly but was Alyrian. “Today, $name, is your trial. Put this on.” The Alyrian hands me a buttercream robe, the material similar to burlap. I know little of Ipharia’s sense of justice, and so I do so without argument. If it meant leaving this hell hole, then I was all too happy too. They lead me out of the cell and to the end of the hallway where other prisoners also wait, each with burlap robes on as well. Were they to have judgment passed on them as well, or was something else about to take place? <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ They march all of us out of the building. Once outside, I hiss and gaze away from the blazing sun. The sun punished me with its sunlight, reminding me that I was a creature who sought after the darkness, who found solace there. <<else>>\ They march all of us out of the building. Once outside, I gaze away from the blazing sun, though it was a refreshing feeling, nonetheless. The feel of the sun upon my skin after what felt like a lifetime without it. <</if>>\ The next thing I notice is that the road was neither quiet nor empty. Instead, an enormous, raucous crowd awaits us, booing and throwing their foul insults as soon as we leave the shelter of the building. They line the road as far as I can see, and if their numbers tell me anything, the entire capital was present for whatever this was. An annoying voice telling me that I knew exactly what this was pulls at my senses as the nearest guard clears his throat. “You know the drill, filth,” the guard shouts, and almost immediately all of the other prisoners drop to their knees. [[Question this.|4.5Question]] [[Do the same.|grovel]] [[Refuse.|nope]]
“What is going on?” I question, my eyes jumping from the crowd to the prisoners, to the guards that stood stoically behind us. The Kren witch answers me, “Ipharia loves repentance in the form of public humiliation. This is merely one of many. You will get on your knees and grovel until you reach the Court of Justice.” “I have yet to be proven guilty for anything,” I growl, and he shrugs. “I asked not. Now, grovel.” The other prisoners move forward, and as a result, the crowd immediately begins their assault. “Hurry, or you will be singled out by the crowd.” [[Do the same.|grovel]] [[Refuse.|nope]]
I follow the other prisoners, dropping to my knees and moving forward across the stone road, ignoring the laughing crowd as we go. I wonder how many times the other prisoners have done this. Their faces convey nothing, not until the crowd begins to throw things that is. I shield my head as rotten fruit and mud is flung through the air, colliding with our persons. Some of the mob seek to get closer, kicking and pushing at us. One man manages to land a kick right on my butt, causing my face to meet the road. [[Make him pay for that.]] [[Keep going.|grovelkg]] [[Refuse to go any further.][$dragged = true]]
I roar and turn, stopping short when I find a sword resting in my path. “We said grovel, filth. Not attack those who give you your due.” The prisoners continue on, some of them scolding me as they pass. [[Continue on through.]] [[Try to grab the guard’s sword.]] [[Stay where I am.][$dragged = true]]
I take numerous deep breaths, calming myself the best I could before turning and continuing on. The crowd has seen what bothers me, and they choose to single me out. Throwing their rotten produce and abusive words. Even children mock me as I pass, poking me before running to their friend’s side and claiming themselves the bravest. Humiliation was a word that I once thought I knew. A word that meant an individual had made a fool of himself and was chastised by those surrounding. But yet, after a few minutes, all would be forgiven and forgotten. I was a fool to think that. This was humiliation, even more so knowing that I was innocent of the crimes against me. Perhaps that is what made this experience much worse. If I were guilty, then this would be rightful punishment, a cause, and effect. I could refuse and fight, but, in the end, it was a consequence of my own actions. That was not the case though. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I look from the guard to his sword and lunge for it. Because of my odd position and the fact that I was closer to his foot, I fail, and he succeeds in pushing me back down to the ground. The sword now finds its place at my neck, the guard hovering over me, in his eyes he wishes for me to try again. [[“Go ahead. I’m dead anyway.”][$dragged = true]] [[Stay there.][$dragged = true]] [[Move and go back to groveling.]]
I spit to the side, “go ahead. I’m dead anyway.” Of course, I didn’t know that for sure, but my gut and this crowd was telling me otherwise. Any hope was dashed as soon as I slunk down to my knees and began this foolish trip. If at the end of this road was just a man to tell me that I would be executed, well then nothing else mattered. And I certainly wasn’t about to leave the last of my dignity on the roads of Ipharia. Another sword joins the previous, “move,” the guard tells me. I refuse. “Or you will be dragged!” he shouts. “Then let me be dragged,” I shout back. He didn’t seem happy about that, neither did the man standing beside him. But they both grab my arms and do as they said, dragging me across the ground. I kick and thrash, I even attempt to bite one of them as I go. If I had nothing to lose then I sure as hell wasn’t about to make this easy for them. The crowd continues to throw things at me, some of it even hitting the guards. I take a small amount of pride in that aspect alone. Two more innocent men having to find out the true meaning of humility, it seemed only fitting. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Another sword joins the previous, “move,” the guard tells me. I refuse. “Or you will be dragged!” he shouts. “Then let me be dragged,” I shout back. He didn’t seem happy about that, neither did the man standing beside him. But they both grab my arms and do as they said, dragging me across the ground. I kick and thrash, I even attempt to bite one of them as I go. If I had nothing to lose then I sure as hell wasn’t about to make this easy for them. The crowd continues to throw things at me, some of it even hitting the guards. I take a small amount of pride in that aspect alone. Two more innocent men having to find out the true meaning of humility, it seemed only fitting. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I take numerous deep breaths, calming myself the best I could before turning and continuing on. The crowd has seen what bothers me, and they choose to single me out. Throwing their rotten produce and abusive words. Even children mock me as I pass, poking me before running to their friend’s side and claiming themselves the bravest. Humiliation was a word that I once thought I knew. A word that meant an individual had made a fool of himself and was chastised by those surrounding. But yet, after a few minutes, all would be forgiven and forgotten. I was a fool to think that. This was humiliation, even more so knowing that I was innocent of the crimes against me. Perhaps that is what made this experience much worse. If I were guilty, then this would be rightful punishment, a cause, and effect. I could refuse and fight, but, in the end, it was a consequence of my own actions. That was not the case though. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I choose to stay where I am, refusing to move another inch. I close my eyes as I feel the tears pound against my eyelids, shouting to be freed. Some of them manage to escape, but many are unable to see the light of day. I sense an object close to my neck and open my eyes to see a sword. “We said grovel, filth. So grovel.” I don’t move, and so another sword joins the previous, “move,” the guard tells me. I refuse. “Or you will be dragged!” he shouts. “Then let me be dragged,” I shout back. He didn’t seem happy about that, neither did the man standing beside him. But they both grab my arms and do as they said, dragging me across the ground. I kick and thrash, I even attempt to bite one of them as I go. If I had nothing to lose then I sure as hell wasn’t about to make this easy for them. The crowd continues to throw things at me, some of it even hitting the guards. I take a small amount of pride in that aspect alone. Two more innocent men having to find out the true meaning of humility, it seemed only fitting. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I take numerous deep breaths, calming myself the best I could before turning and continuing on. The crowd has seen what bothers me, and they choose to single me out. Throwing their rotten produce and abusive words. Even children mock me as I pass, poking me before running to their friend’s side and claiming themselves the bravest. Humiliation was a word that I once thought I knew. A word that meant an individual had made a fool of himself and was chastised by those surrounding. But yet, after a few minutes, all would be forgiven and forgotten. I was a fool to think that. This was humiliation, even more so knowing that I was innocent of the crimes against me. Perhaps that is what made this experience much worse. If I were guilty, then this would be rightful punishment, a cause, and effect. I could refuse and fight, but, in the end, it was a consequence of my own actions. That was not the case though. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I choose to stay where I am, refusing to move another step. I close my eyes as I feel the tears pound against my eyelids, shouting to be freed. Some of them manage to escape, but many are unable to see the light of day. I sense an object close to my neck and open my eyes to see a sword. “We said grovel, filth. So grovel.” I don’t move, and so another sword joins the previous, “move,” the guard tells me. I refuse. “Or you will be dragged!” he shouts. “Then let me be dragged,” I shout back. He didn’t seem happy about that, neither did the man standing beside him. But they both grab my arms and do as they said, dragging me across the ground. I kick and thrash, I even attempt to bite one of them as I go. If I had nothing to lose then I sure as hell wasn’t about to make this easy for them. The crowd continues to throw things at me, some of it even hitting the guards. I take a small amount of pride in that aspect alone. Two more innocent men having to find out the true meaning of humility, it seemed only fitting. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Perhaps, I wasn’t loud enough,” I growl, “I will not.” One of the guards kicks in the back of my knees, forcing me down as two swords appear at my neck. The Kren witch crouches and looks me deep in the eye. “You will, or you will be dragged. Which will it be?” [[Grovel.|4.5Grovel]] [[Be dragged.][$dragged = true]] [[Fight.|4.5Fight]]
I glance over at the crowds and the prisoners who get farther and farther away. “Fine,” I mumble, and the swords are sheathed once again. Already on my knees, I sigh and muster up every ounce of dignity that I may possess. I make my way forward. My previous actions have singled me out, and now I don’t have a group to hide behind or blend in with. The crowd throws their rotten produce and abusive words. Even children mock me as I pass, poking me before running to their friend’s side and claiming themselves the bravest. Humiliation was a word that I once thought I knew. A word that meant an individual had made a fool of himself and was chastised by those surrounding. But yet, after a few minutes, all would be forgiven and forgotten. I was a fool to think that. This was humiliation, even more so knowing that I was innocent of the crimes against me. Perhaps that is what made this experience much worse. If I were guilty, then this would be rightful punishment, a cause, and effect. I could refuse and fight, but, in the end, it was a consequence of my own actions. That was not the case though. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Then let me be dragged,” I shout back. He didn’t seem happy about that, neither did the guards standing beside him. But nevertheless, they grab my arms and do as the witch said they would, dragging me across the ground. I kick and thrash, I even attempt to bite one of them as I go. If I had nothing to lose then I sure as hell wasn’t about to make this easy for them. The crowd throws things at me, everything from rotten fruit to mud and insults, some of it even hitting the guards. I take a small amount of pride in that aspect alone. Two more innocent men having to find out the true meaning of humility, it seemed only fitting. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I look from the nearest guard to his sword and lunge for it. Because of my odd position and the fact that I was closer to his foot, I fail, and he succeeds in pushing me back down to the ground. The sword now finds its place at my neck, the guard hovering over me, in his eyes he wishes for me to try again. [[“Go ahead. I’m dead anyway.”][$dragged = true]] [[Stay there.][$dragged = true]] [[Start groveling.]]
I glance over at the crowds and the prisoners who get farther and farther away. “Fine,” I mumble, and the swords are sheathed once again. Already on my knees, I sigh and muster up every ounce of dignity that I may possess. I make my way forward. My previous actions have singled me out, and I now don’t have a group to hide behind or blend in with. The crowd throws their rotten produce and abusive words. Even children mock me as I pass, poking me before running to their friend’s side and claiming themselves the bravest. Humiliation was a word that I once thought I knew. A word that meant an individual had made a fool of himself and was chastised by those surrounding. But yet, after a few minutes, all would be forgiven and forgotten. I was a fool to think that. This was humiliation, even more so knowing that I was innocent of the crimes against me. Perhaps that is what made this experience much worse. If I were guilty, then this would be rightful punishment, a cause, and effect. I could refuse and fight, but, in the end, it was a consequence of my own actions. That was not the case though. <a data-passage="4.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $dragged>>\ <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ By the time we make it to the Court of Justice, the back of my legs are numb, I’m covered in filth, and my eyes have since given up on producing any more tears. I wish to lash out at everyone, at everything. But I also feel incredibly numb, as if nothing more could bother me, as I now expected almost nothing. And it would seem that I wasn’t the only one who was currently hating every aspect of life, my guards look ready to keel over. I snort, that’s what happens when they drag a Uqanan more than half their size through the streets. <<else>>\ By the time we make it to the Court of Justice, the back of my legs are numb, I’m covered in filth, and my eyes have since given up on producing any more tears. I wish to lash out at everyone, at everything. But I also feel incredibly numb, as if nothing more could bother me, as I now expected almost nothing. <</if>>\ <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $mercy = true>><</nobr>> By the time we make it to the Court of Justice, my knees have gone numb, I feel as sick as the filth covering me, and my eyes have since given up on producing any more tears. I wish to lash out at everyone, at everything. But I also feel incredibly numb, as if nothing more could bother me, as I now expected almost nothing. <</if>>\ “Pray to the High Gods for repentance,” a priestly man shouts, his arms opened to the skies. The guards get me to my feet and walk me away from the other prisoners as the priest approaches them. “Go now and thank them for your freedom.” He touches each of them in turn, and once done they rise and remove their burlap robes. They practically sprint off into the crowd that eagerly engulfs them. It is then that all eyes turn to me. The priest approaches and gives me a scrutinizing look over. “People of Ipharia, did this soul earn your mercy?” The crowd boo’s, the sound causing me to cringe as a few more attempt to throw things my way. I care little for their so-called mercy anyway, they only wish for another chance to throw things at me. “High Gods have mercy on you,” the priest tells me, and the guards lead me into the building that would determine my fate. <a data-passage="4.7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The courtly building reminds me more of a church, devoted to the priests and informing the public about the great High Gods and the deities that follow close beneath them. The walls look to be of a slate material though dyed an extravagant canary yellow. The floor tiles were a silver color, allowing for most of the attention be brought back to the annoyingly loud walls. Walls that I find now irritate me more that cause me to gape in awe. The seating and the judge’s bench were both made from dark mahogany wood, and besides from the walls, held the most color. The people in attendance were a step above those outside, or so they thought. While those outside jeered and tossed things at me, they at least weren’t ashamed to show me their disdain. They refuse to hide their disdain, for there was no point. Those in here were not of the same breed. They had probably created the rumors that were circling, they would claim ignorance before anything else. Some of their expressions negate the looks in their eyes. Some look almost sorry at my predicament, but their eyes laugh heartily. Others look as if they are executing me on the spot, but their eyes thank me for what I had done. But all of them had one thing in common, their gears were turning. Churning out ideas on how they could use my predicament to their advantage. My master was right. This was a game, every single part of it. [[They believed I did what they were too afraid to do.|4.8]] [[For all I know the Prince’s killer was in attendance.|4.8]] [[And it would seem that I had lost.|4.8]]
“$name,” the King shouts, causing my eyes to fall on him. He stands before us all, a stark difference from the last time I saw him. Then, he was broken and distraught, practically in his nightclothes as he sulked on the throne. Now, he wore his kingly armor and stands at full height. Mourning was over with; he was now convinced that today his son’s killer would be sentenced for ?his_ crimes. <<if $guardfight>>\ “You stand before us accused of murdering my son, the Prince of Ipharia,” there’s a pause after he says this as the entire court hangs their head, “murdering Master Audouin, and wishing to do harm against the King’s guards.” <<else>>\ “You stand before us accused of murdering my son, the Prince of Ipharia,” there’s a pause after he says this as the entire court hangs their head, “and murdering Master Audouin.” <</if>>\ <<if $averill >=50>>\ As he says this, I find my eyes swivel over to the $aman that stands only a few feet away from him. Averill watches me closely, much like one would do a perplexing puzzle. To my shock, when my eyes meet <<if $ahis is "his">>his<<else>>hers<</if>>, $ahe looks away, $ahis gaze finding the state of the Queen much more interesting. <<else>>\ As he says this, I find my eyes swivel over to the $aman that stands only a few feet away from him. Averill watches me closely, much like one would do a perplexing puzzle. When my eyes meet <<if $ahis is "his">>his<<else>>hers<</if>>, $ahe narrows them, standing taller and resting both hands on the hilt of $ahis sheathed sword. <</if>>\ “Is there anything you wish to say in your defense?” the King inquires. [[Stay silent.]] [[“I did not kill anyone.”]] [[“You can all go to Kiamet.”]]
I say nothing. What more could I say to those who have already made up their mind on my guilt? This entire trial was a waste of time. “We shall now call upon those who know $name,” the King says. The first person they call up, or first two, I suppose, are the servants who swear that they saw me enter the Prince’s room. They tell the same story they spoke in front of the court that night all had abandoned me. They don’t waver, and though they tell their story differently from last, it holds the same sentencing. I was guilty. “Lord Gregory of Akrisos,” the King calls upon and I watch as the Lord approaches, fixing his clothing as he stands tall. I growl to myself; he was treating this with as much care as he showed his slaves. For him, this was nothing but fame points, allowing the other Houses of Nidinia to hear about him. <<if $lordAnger>>\ “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ poor master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time I have found that $name cares little for others and only ?is own personal fame. ?He did little to ever get to know my family or me. I know not what ire ?he had against our beloved Prince, but I can say that I am not surprised that Master Audouin was made to suffer at this fool’s hand.” I stare on, counting all the lies in that one monologue. Besides Isaak and my master, the Lord was the first I greeted upon entering Akrisos. I knew his wife and daughter quite well, mostly due to them always coming in for a reading, but that was beside the point. For him to say these things had to either mean that he was focused on playing the game, garnering sympathy perhaps, or that I had somehow angered him. Being the King’s esteemed guest, maybe? <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time, I have nothing but positive things to say. I cannot speak on the ire that ?he may have had with our beloved Prince, but I do not believe that ?he is a murderer. Not only does it make no sense, but $name and Master Audouin were close. No kind of argument would come between that.” I release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. For the first time in so long, I met a gaze that truly seemed sorry for my predicament. <</if>>\ The Lord went back to his previous spot as the King called upon another, the guards and Ansellus. [[I was screwed.|4.9]] [[I believe Ansellus will help me.|4.9]]
“I did not kill anyone. I am innocent.” No one says anything, perhaps because this was not the first time I have claimed such a thing. This was all a horrible joke, one in which I felt like I was paying for alone. The Queen and King lost a son but looking at them now, I couldn’t tell. And yet, here I was, pleading for them to see how idiotic this all was, to look me in the eye and see my innocence. “We shall now call upon those who know $name,” is all the King says in reply to my words. The first person they call up, or first two, I suppose, are the servants who swear that they saw me enter the Prince’s room. They tell the same story they spoke in front of the court that night all had abandoned me. They don’t waver, and though they tell their story differently from last, it holds the same sentencing. I was guilty. “Lord Gregory of Akrisos,” the King calls upon and I watch as the Lord approaches, fixing his clothing as he stands tall. I growl to myself; he was treating this with as much care as he showed his slaves. For him, this was nothing but fame points, allowing the other Houses of Nidinia to hear about him. <<if $lordAnger>>\ “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ poor master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time I have found that $name cares little for others and only ?is own personal fame. ?He did little to ever get to know my family or me. I know not what ire ?he had against our beloved Prince, but I can say that I am not surprised that Master Audouin was made to suffer at this fool’s hand.” I stare on, counting all the lies in that one monologue. Besides Isaak and my master, the Lord was the first I greeted upon entering Akrisos. I knew his wife and daughter quite well, mostly due to them always coming in for a reading, but that was beside the point. For him to say these things had to either mean that he was focused on playing the game, garnering sympathy perhaps, or that I had somehow angered him. Being the King’s esteemed guest, maybe? <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time, I have nothing but positive things to say. I cannot speak on the ire that ?he may have had with our beloved Prince, but I do not believe that ?he is a murderer. Not only does it make no sense, but $name and Master Audouin were close. No kind of argument would come between that.” I release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. For the first time in so long, I met a gaze that truly seemed sorry for my predicament. <</if>>\ The Lord went back to his previous spot as the King called upon another, the guards and Ansellus. [[I was screwed.|4.9]] [[I believe Ansellus will help me.|4.9]]
“Each and every one of you can head straight to Kiamet.” Those behind me mumble, and Averill stiffens. The Queen wipes at her leaking eyes, and the King’s expression doesn’t change in the least. “I suppose we shall meet you there. We shall now call upon those who know $name.” The first person they call up, or first two, I suppose, are the servants who swear that they saw me enter the Prince’s room. They tell the same story they spoke in front of the court that night all had abandoned me. They don’t waver, and though they tell their story differently from last, it holds the same sentencing. I was guilty. “Lord Gregory of Akrisos,” the King calls upon and I watch as the Lord approaches, fixing his clothing as he stands tall. I growl to myself; he was treating this with as much care as he showed his slaves. For him, this was nothing but fame points, allowing the other Houses of Nidinia to hear about him. <<if $lordAnger>>\ “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ poor master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time I have found that $name cares little for others and only ?is own personal fame. ?He did little to ever get to know my family or me. I know not what ire ?he had against our beloved Prince, but I can say that I am not surprised that Master Audouin was made to suffer at this fool’s hand.” I stare on, counting all the lies in that one monologue. Besides Isaak and my master, the Lord was the first I greeted upon entering Akrisos. I knew his wife and daughter quite well, mostly due to them always coming in for a reading, but that was beside the point. For him to say these things had to either mean that he was focused on playing the game, garnering sympathy perhaps, or that I had somehow angered him. Being the King’s esteemed guest, maybe? <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> “My King and Queen, for two years has $name lived in my town. We welcomed ?him in with open arms because of ?his_ gift to see the future in the form of dreams. As well as because ?his_ master, Master Audouin, accepted ?him in. Since that time, I have nothing but positive things to say. I cannot speak on the ire that ?he may have had with our beloved Prince, but I do not believe that ?he is a murderer. Not only does it make no sense, but $name and Master Audouin were close. No kind of argument would come between that.” I release a breath that I didn’t know I was holding. For the first time in so long, I met a gaze that truly seemed sorry for my predicament. <</if>>\ The Lord went back to his previous spot as the King called upon another, the guards and Ansellus. [[I was screwed.|4.9]] [[I believe Ansellus will help me.|4.9]]
<<if $guardAnger>>\ Ansellus steps up, “my King, I shall put this simple. We believe that $name has the proficiency to do everything ?he is being accused of. On the road here, ?he fought bandits that attacked the Lord’s entourage, clearly showing that ?he was unafraid of violence.” Ansellus looks over at me, and I can’t tell if he was going to rub my name through the dirt, or if he was going to add a but somewhere. <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> Ansellus steps up, “my King, I shall put this simple. We do not believe that $name has the proficiency to do what ?he is being accused of.” Ansellus looks over at me, and I can’t tell if he was going to rub my name through the dirt, or if he was going to add an and somewhere. <</if>>\ <<if $ansellus >=35>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> “But I personally know the accused and without a shadow of a doubt believe that ?he did not commit the crimes.” My heart stutters, did Ansellus honestly just vouch for my character? “The witch is many things, but a murderer is not one of them. Especially seeing that the two witches were fairly close. As to killing the Prince, I don’t think $name is even smart enough to do something like that.” I suppose the ability to not add in an insult somewhere was just too hard for Ansellus to do. <<else>>\ “I personally know the accused and without a shadow of a doubt believe that ?he did commit the crimes.” I was done listening, mostly since I was beginning to come down with a headache. I also didn’t wish to give Ansellus the pleasure of seeing me react to his words. <</if>>\ “Next is Isaak Alexander.” <<if $isaak >=50>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=1>><</nobr>> I search for Isaak and see him step up, playing with his hood as he approaches. Once he realizes that he had been playing with it, he switches his attention to his hair, tugging at it as he sways from one leg to another. “Isaak,” the King starts, easily seeing the boy’s uncomfortableness, “what have you to say about $name?” He clears his throat, once then twice as he turns to look at me. <<if $ansellus <35>>\ “Your Majesty,” Ansellus shouts, “I feel it only right to bring to your attention that Isaak has an undying crush on $name. His thoughts on ?him probably aren’t well-placed.” “I didn’t ask,” the King sighs irritably and then motions for Isaak to go ahead. <</if>>\ “Um, $name is amazing. And I say that because ever since I’ve known $name, ?he’s done nothing but help and be kind to me. I’ve seen how ?he treats ?his_ master and I couldn’t possibly imagine ?him killing him, for any reason. As for the Prince, I know the servants said differently but couldn’t they be lying?” The crowd begins to whisper and I’m not sure if it was in favor of Isaak’s words or not. A shadow passes over the King’s face as he leans in, his eyes regarding Isaak as if he was an enemy. “Are you saying that two servants who have no correlation with one another are lying, saying that the accused, who has no alibis whatsoever, is innocent?” The question sounded like a double-edged sword. Saying no would mean that everything Isaak has said meant nothing, he was going to be deemed as nothign but a peasant who shouldn’t even be standing here. But if he said yes, then he was challenging the King himself, and if not careful would earn a spot right beside me. [[“Isaak, let it go.”][$allforone +=2]] [[“Isaak, answer him.”][$allforone -=2]] [[See what Isaak does.][$isaak +=3]] <<else>>\ I search for Isaak, but I fail to spot him amongst the crowd. I continue to search when my eyes meet Ansellus, and he sends me a wide smile. Did he … did he do something to Isaak? [[Confront Ansellus.][$allforone +=2]] [[Leave it alone.|4.9LeaveItAlone]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> “Isaak,” I murmur, wishing to save him from whatever his punishment would be, “let it go.” Isaak’s eyes go wide, ready to challenge me as well but the stern look I send his way shuts him up. Isaak whimpers and gazes at the floor, refusing to say anymore as the court looks on. “I see. Thank you, Isaak.” With that, Isaak quickly turns and leaves, he doesn’t join the crowd but leaves the building entirely, silence ushering him out before sweeping the room. After Isaak, the King stands and claps his hands. “If there is anything left to say, let it be said.” <<if $queen >=3>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=2>><</nobr>> “Then let me say something, My King,” the Queen herself begins, standing and coming to his side. Unlike the King, she still didn’t look put together. Bags clung to the bottom part of her puffy eyes. She wore all black, and her otherwise beige skin looked to be paling. She stares at me as the crowd waits to see what she would say. I search her eyes but find no clue. “Many of you know that inviting $name to court was not my idea,” she begins, earning a groan from the King, “I do not doubt ?his_ ability but found it silly to rely on words that could be easily twisted if influenced by outside parties. I look at the Apprentice and see a witch who could easily be swayed by our enemies, High Gods know this court worships its little game. With that said, if this were a matter of betrayal of speech, then I would be the first to condemn ?him. But thus it is not. $name,” the Queen says, speaking directly to me, “have you ever killed anyone. Be honest in your answer.” [[“Yes.”|4.10Yes][$killedbefore = true]] [[“No.”|4.10No]] <<else>>\ His question is met by only silence. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> “Isaak,” I start, “answer him.” He nods and squares his shoulders but visibly deflates when he meets the gaze of the King. I see him shake, each word that comes from his mouth slips before tumbling out, smacking against the floor where they then disappear. “I see you’re not fit to truly have a say. Leave.” The command is said with such clout that even I would be surprised if Isaak disobeys. He doesn’t question, simply turning, and speed walking towards the entrance of the building. After Isaak, the King stands and clasps his hands. “If there is anything left to say, let it be said.” <<if $queen >=3>>\ <<nobr>>\<<set $courtrule +=2>><</nobr>>\ “Then let me say something, My King,” the Queen herself begins, standing and coming to his side. Unlike the King, she still didn’t look put together. Bags clung to the bottom part of her puffy eyes. She wore all black, and her otherwise beige skin looked to be paling. She stares at me as the crowd waits to see what she would say. I search her eyes but find no clue. “Many of you know that inviting $name to court was not my idea,” she begins, earning a groan from the King, “I do not doubt ?his_ ability but found it silly to rely on words that could be easily twisted if influenced by outside parties. I look at the Apprentice and see a witch who could easily be swayed by our enemies, High Gods know this court worships its little game. With that said, if this were a matter of betrayal of speech, then I would be the first to condemn ?him. But thus it is not. $name,” the Queen says, speaking directly to me, “have you ever killed anyone. Be honest in your answer.” [[“Yes.”|4.10Yes][$killedbefore = true]] [[“No.”|4.10No]] <<else>>\ His question is met by only silence. [[I feel like I have a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I am doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I will make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]] <</if>>\
I say and do nothing, curious to see what Isaak would do. He squares his shoulders and takes a deep breath in, giving me one last look. “Yes, I do.” Parts of the crowd gasp, eyes on the King as he looks Isaak over. I fear a multitude of things, none of them positive. But the King surprises me, nodding and thanking Isaak for his voice. After Isaak, the King stands and claps his hands. “If there is anything left to say, let it be said.” <<if $queen >=3>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=2>><</nobr>> “Then let me say something, My King,” the Queen herself begins, standing and coming to his side. Unlike the King, she still didn’t look put together. Bags clung to the bottom part of her puffy eyes. She wore all black, and her otherwise beige skin looked to be paling. She stares at me as the crowd waits to see what she would say. I search her eyes but find no clue. “Many of you know that inviting $name to court was not my idea,” she begins, earning a groan from the King, “I do not doubt ?his_ ability but found it silly to rely on words that could be easily twisted if influenced by outside parties. I look at the Apprentice and see a witch who could easily be swayed by our enemies, High Gods know this court worships its little game. With that said, if this were a matter of betrayal of speech, then I would be the first to condemn ?him. But thus it is not. $name,” the Queen says, speaking directly to me, “have you ever killed anyone. Be honest in your answer.” [[“Yes.”|4.10Yes][$killedbefore = true]] [[“No.”|4.10No]] <<else>>\ His question is met by only silence. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> “What did you do to Isaak?” I question, everyone’s eyes go from me to who I speak to, Ansellus. The guards near him roll their eyes at my question, but Ansellus just laughs and takes a step forward. “I’d like everyone to know that Isaak wished not to speak for ${name}. He said that he had nothing good to say and therefore nothing to say at all. He didn’t wish to be the reason you hung but wouldn’t lie either.” The court seems to immediately believe Ansellus, whether or not he was lying was not their problem. “I care not. If the young man isn’t here to speak, then he simply isn’t here,” the King says, waving his hand to continue on. After that, the King stands and claps his hands. “If there is anything left to say, let it be said.” <<if $queen >=3>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=2>><</nobr>> “Then let me say something, My King,” the Queen herself begins, standing and coming to his side. Unlike the King, she still didn’t look put together. Bags clung to the bottom part of her puffy eyes. She wore all black, and her otherwise beige skin looked to be paling. She stares at me as the crowd waits to see what she would say. I search her eyes but find no clue. “Many of you know that inviting $name to court was not my idea,” she begins, earning a groan from the King, “I do not doubt ?his_ ability but found it silly to rely on words that could be easily twisted if influenced by outside parties. I look at the Apprentice and see a witch who could easily be swayed by our enemies, High Gods know this court worships its little game. With that said, if this were a matter of betrayal of speech, then I would be the first to condemn ?him. But thus it is not. $name,” the Queen says, speaking directly to me, “have you ever killed anyone. Be honest in your answer.” [[“Yes.”|4.10Yes][$killedbefore = true]] [[“No.”|4.10No]] <<else>>\ His question is met by only silence. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> Whether he did something or not, bringing it to the room’s attention was probably unwise. Ansellus was crafty, I would be less than shocked to find that he had something under his sleeve if I did question him. I simply clear my voice and look back at the King, who doesn’t seem at all perturbed by the lack of Isaak. After that, the King stands and claps his hands. “If there is anything left to say, let it be said.” <<if $queen >=3>>\ <<nobr>><<set $courtrule +=2>><</nobr>> “Then let me say something, My King,” the Queen herself begins, standing and coming to his side. Unlike the King, she still didn’t look put together. Bags clung to the bottom part of her puffy eyes. She wore all black, and her otherwise beige skin looked to be paling. She stares at me as the crowd waits to see what she would say. I search her eyes but find no clue. “Many of you know that inviting $name to court was not my idea,” she begins, earning a groan from the King, “I do not doubt ?his_ ability but found it silly to rely on words that could be easily twisted if influenced by outside parties. I look at the Apprentice and see a witch who could easily be swayed by our enemies, High Gods know this court worships its little game. With that said, if this were a matter of betrayal of speech, then I would be the first to condemn ?him. But thus it is not. $name,” the Queen says, speaking directly to me, “have you ever killed anyone. Be honest in your answer.” [[“Yes.”|4.10Yes][$killedbefore = true]] [[“No.”|4.10No]] <<else>>\ His question is met by only silence. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]] <</if>>\
“I have, Your Majesty.” “Why?” “Self-defense. It was during my travels, a bandit refused to release me, and it was the only thing I could do to properly escape.” She nods as if she had already known, for all I know she did. “A moment, for me to decide upon $name’s fate.” He leaves along with his advisors and the Queen. As soon as the door closes, the court speaks up about the proceedings. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]]
“No, Your Majesty.” She nods her head at my answer as if she already knew, perhaps she did. “To take someone’s life is no easy task, especially when that person is your teacher. Master Audouin had nothing but positive things to say about his apprentice and my son thought ?him to be a wise ally. I simply do not see a murderer when I look at this young apprentice.” She gazes back at her husband and bows her head before excusing herself. “A moment, for me to decide upon $name’s fate.” He leaves along with his advisors and the Queen. As soon as the door closes, the court speaks up about the proceedings. [[I felt like I had a chance.|4.11][$smug +=3]] [[I was doomed.|4.11][$smug -=3]] [[I would make no guesses as to my fate.|4.11]]
My legs shake as I stand there with the two guards behind me. My heart putting on an entire show as it did flip after flip. Stunt after stunt. Did it even matter what others have said? Did the King not have his own mind made up? I would soon see. The door to the backroom opens, and everyone files back in as those behind me quiet down. My eyes are glued on the attendant that stands in front of the judge’s bench. His posture stiff, and his eyes looking past me. <<if $guardfight>>\ “$name. After heavy discussion, judgment has been reached. You stand here, having been accused of murdering Master Audouin and Prince Ingram of Nidinia, as well as assaulting guards of the King.” They really weren't going to let that one go. <<else>>\ “$name. After heavy discussion, judgment has been reached. You stand here, having been accused of murdering Master Audouin and Prince Ingram of Nidinia.” <</if>>\ Silence. One so heavy that I feel it weigh me down. It weighs not only on my shoulders but my heart. The last bit of hope showing itself and standing before my other emotions, on trial for merely existing. <<if $courtrule >=4>>\ “We hereby proclaim, $name $surname, guilty. And as punishment will spend the rest of ?his_ life in prison.” <<else>>\ <<nobr>><<set $noose = true>><</nobr>> “We hereby proclaim, $name $surname, guilty. And as punishment will face the hangman’s noose.” <</if>>\ Hope is executed on the spot. <a data-passage="Chapter Five"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<set $ruho to 100; $soup = false; $tJeffrey = false; $insult = false; $delilahTold = false>> <<audio "prologue" fadeout>> <<playlist "ambience" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ <a data-passage="1.00"><img src="images/thegame.jpg" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
<img src="images/one.png"> “Thank you for your time,” I shout after the woman leaves the store, a bottle bedded with a red and green concoction in her grasp. I stare at the potion, wondering if it will solve her issue. The woman was vague, hardly giving me any information to go off due to her own embarrassment. <<if $empathy >=50>>Thankfully, it was not hard to deduce her feelings and learn that her problem rested in the realm of romance. Feeling deeply for one but not being able to sort her truth from falacy.<<else>>I had to surmise that whatever her problem was, it had to do with romance, and that was from me registering the red hue of her cheeks and a gaze that refused to meet mine.<</if>> The smile I save strictly for customers disappears as I retreat to my personally claimed corner of my master’s shop. I sit on my favorite stool and take numerous deep breaths. Dozens of manuscripts, unfurled scrolls, and books lie before me. None of them possess any kind of knowledge that may potentially help me. The visions have long since left my memory, leaving behind but a feeling of a whisper against my ear of the departed moment. Regardless of its passing, the thought of the nightmare still causes me misery. Still caused me to drift off into my own reflections. [[I strengthened the wards.|1.00Wards][$care +=3]] [[I sought out texts.|1.00Texts][$care -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> Immediately after it had taken place, before even seeking to clean the mess left behind, I strengthened the pre-existing wards in my master’s hut. And once I finished strengthening his, I went home and reapplied my own. Something had gotten in, and I would not allow it to do so again. <<include "1.00.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> I grabbed everything that could aid my learning. Books ranging in symbolism topics to dream magic to even those that speak about demons and spirits. Only when I scanned over these books did I end my investigation. The last thing I wished to think was that a demon had attached itself to me. <<include "1.00.1">>
“Excuse me!” a voice shouts, and I jump, shocked to see a restless customer on the other side of the counter. They dawn a dark grey cloak of ill fit, with a hood that rests over most of their face, making it impossible for me to learn their identity. [[“I apologize, can I help you?”|1.00CanIHelpYou][$care +=2]] [[“You’re excused. What do you need?”|1.00Excused][$care -=2]] [[Raise a brow at them.|1.00RaiseBrow]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> “Sorry, is there something I can help you with today?” <<include "1.00RaiseBrow">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> “Yes, you’re excused. Can I help you with something?” <<include "1.00RaiseBrow">>
They huff, and I can easily picture them rolling their eyes in annoyance, snarling at me as they begin to explain their dilemma. “I need a luck potion. Bring me one, now.” They tap their finger on the countertop as if the action will encourage me to move faster. Rolling my eyes, I travel to the back where shelf upon shelf of completed potions resides. Each categorized by me to better help me find the potions that my master and I had worked to create. “Luck,” I mumble to myself as I head towards the area it lies. My eyes travel to the identical potions resting beside it, the karma potions. Same bright green transparent liquid, same taste, and as long as the individual who drinks it does nothing wrong, the same results. While if the individual has done anything improper in the past few days and the energy is still lingering, the potion will make sure that karma pays them a memorable visit. I bite the inside of my cheek, looking between the two. [[Give them the luck potion.|1.00Luck][$honesty +=10; $IsaakAlexander = true; $AnsellusWarren = true; $side -=5; $evidence_queendoc to true]] [[Give them the karma potion.|1.00Karma][$honesty -=10; $IsaakAlexander = true; $AnsellusWarren = true; $side +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>>\<span class="stats">Honesty ++</span><</if>>\ <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Your actions will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> I roll my eyes at my own thoughts; it isn’t my place. And if this customer ends up going around, shouting about how I cheated them, then the shop’s reputation will suffer. They aren’t the first rude customer, and I doubt they will be the last. I grab the potion and return to the front. <<include "1.01">>
<<if settings.statShow>>\<span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>>\ <<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Your actions will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> I smirk. Karma is a busy little thing. It has a long list of people to visit, with new additions being added every second. This potion simply shifts it’s ever-growing list. I grab it, and with a clear conscience, return to the front of the store. <<include "1.01">>
“Would you like me to box this for you?” I ask politely, and they wave away my words. “How much is it?” “Five <<link 'ruho'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Jiwenia coin system is all based around a currency called ruho. There are four different kinds of ruho (also in the order of least expensive to expensive): copper, silver, gold, and opal. Though the system is universal, some countries have shown greater interest in gold ruho than opal ruho due to scarcity reasons. Below is the global comparison, again, this may change depending on the location. (1) Copper (1) Silver = (50) Copper (1) Gold = (15) Silver or (750) Copper (1) Opal = (10) Gold / (150) Silver / (7500) Copper There is also an additional form of currency used mostly in the underground and black market known as the stygian ruho. This coin is made from a rare gem known as the Stygian Beryl that is pure black with small speckles of gold throughout. It's more precious than opal (one stygian = twenty opal). This coin is also called the blessed coin, for the belief that anyone who possesses it holds as much power as a king and therefore must have been blessed by the High Gods.<</dialog>><</link>>,” I tell them, and they slam the bronze coins onto the countertop before snatching the potion, leaving with a flourish of their cloak. That warrants a break. I switch the simple wooden sign from open to now show that the store is currently closed. Walking outside, I breathe in the fresh air as I go for a short walk. I follow the familiar cobblestone path down the road adjacent to the shop, relishing the day. Daffodil colored clouds roam by, vagrants drifting with no proper direction or motive in the vast blue overhead. Flocks of birds hang out on the trim of buildings, watching me as I pass in case I drop food. <a data-passage="1.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I head past the baker and the tailor, nodding at both as they greet me excitedly. I navigate my way around the children as they play amongst each other, seeing who can kick the ball farther. I wave at the blacksmith who may or may not have seen me. And then, I stop to peer at a vendor cart that’s selling herbs when I feel a hard hand rest upon my back. “$name! I … I didn’t know you’d be out today.” I raise a brow and turn to the young man<<if $species is "kren" or $species is "ecrid">>.<<else>>, who happens to be around my age.<</if>> As soon as my gaze lands on him, he fumbles with the large basket in his hands, an apple rolling off the top. I swiftly lean down and catch it, raising a brow as I set it back on top of the pile. <<if $notouchy>>\ “Isaak, I’d appreciate it if you remember that I don’t like being touched without forewarning and permission.” “Oh, yea. I’m sorry. Um,” he looks at the ground with discomfiture, racking his mind for a conversation starter, “have any dreams?” <<else>>\ “Well, Isaak, it’s not like I told you.” “Oh, yea … of course. Have any dreams?” <</if>>\ “Not for you, Isaak.” He feigns hurt, placing a hand over his heart as he attempts to balance the fruit basket to his left arm, “I’m offended. I was asking for the good of the town. How will they ever live without one of your daily readings?” Done with inspecting the herbs, I turn and wait for the nearby wagon to pass by, looking over at Isaak, who fails to hide his enormous smile, “they can simply come down to the shop and pay for a reading, same as any other.” He shakes his head with a smile, following me as I continue my walk down the street. [[His presence is always appreciated.|1.02ProIsaak][$isaak +=10]] [[I wish for him to leave me be.|1.02NegIsaak][$isaak -=10]]
His presence is much appreciated, always warm and welcoming. I came to this town two years ago, having been accepted to study with a master of the magical arts. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "uqanan">>I feared that the town would judge me far before they ever got to know me. That’s all to say, the first person to ever say hello to me was Isaak.<<else>>And the first person I came across was a very welcoming Isaak.<</if>> He was quirky, and it was easy to see that he was as confused about his place amongst the community as I, and everyone else for that matter. <<include "1.02.1">>
He wasn’t rude, but he was annoying, and I was not one to seek out the company of others. If one had told me that I would be stuck with him bothering me two years ago, when I had first entered this town, then I probably would not have asked him for assistance. I simply wished to learn where Master Audouin lived. That was all. And though he aided me, he also talked my ear off the entire way, and all these years later, it has changed nothing. He was quirky, and it was quite easy to see that he was as confused about his place amongst the village as I, and everyone else for that matter. <<include "1.02.1">>
The young Alyrian’s size would suggest he worked indoors, which didn’t require much muscle, for he lacked it. Yet, the amount of dirt that continuously resided on his person caused one to believe that perhaps he was a farmer’s or blacksmith’s apprentice. I could recall his appearance when we initially met, and I vividly remember questioning my previous guesses due to the fresh bruises and dried blood upon his neck, face, and shirt. The sight was one only a warrior or hunter could bear or one who just always found himself in trouble. It didn’t take me long to learn that it was the latter. We continue walking down the street, turning along a dirt road that leads into the agricultural part of town. All the while, Isaak speaks about his work and what has happened recently. I’m about to comment when I hear the sounds of laughter and multiple hooves striking the ground behind us. I turn just in time to spot three riders. <<if $species is "phaizarn">>I make out their identities almost instantly, wishing to do without what I surmise will follow.<<else>>I squint in slight confusion, unaware of their identities, until I make out the face of the rider in front.<</if>> “Hey, look, Farmer Boy!” the leader shouts, tapping his steed’s side to go faster. Isaak turns, finally ceasing his chattering once he hears the words. They show no signs of stopping, and Isaak is their sole target. [[Throw up a last-minute shield just in case. Isaak is on his own.|1.02NotMyProblem][$allforone -=10; $isaak -=5]] [[Try and get Isaak out of harm’s way.|1.02HelpIsaak][$allforone +=10; $isaak +=5]] <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ [[Turn into a shadow and get the heck out of the way.|1.02Shadow][$allforone -=10; $isaak -=5]] <</if>>\ <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ [[Stand my ground against those incoming.|1.02UqananMuscle][$allforone +=10; $isaak +=5]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> I summon my energy, write the spell symbol in the air, and perform the gesture to create a weak shield that will protect me, just in case they shift their route at the last minute. It’s nothing fancy, but I have yet to get to those studies with my master’s tutelage. I focus for a mere second before the pewter-colored energy I identified as mine flows out of my hand and takes the shape of a shield. Isaak yelps in fear, diving out of the way at the last minute. The lead rider stops his horse short of almost running into him, proving that Isaak was never in any real danger. Just the unfortunate target to pathetic, dimwitted young men. The two riders behind him interrupt the momentary silence with their laughter, staring at Isaak, who now lies on the ground. His basket to the right of him and the produce once within now littering the surrounding area. I groan inwardly and drop my hand, the shield dispersing. “You dropped something,” the lead rider snorts as he leans forward. His eyes linger on me for a second before going back to Isaak. <<include "1.02.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivarlous ++</span><</if>> I look from the riders to Isaak, who has already doomed himself with his delayed reaction. Not thinking twice about my next move, I lunge forward and push him out the way, the two of us hitting the ground with a loud thump. The lead rider stops his horse just short of almost running into us, proving that Isaak nor I was in any real danger. I growl, primarily due to my incompetence and fear, pushing myself off a blushing and embarrassed Isaak. The other riders interrupt the momentary silence with their laughter, staring at Isaak, who lies in a fetal position. His basket to the right of him and the produce once within now littering the surrounding area. “You dropped something,” the lead rider snorts as he leans forward. His eyes linger on me for a second before going back to Isaak. <<include "1.02.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> Not wishing to be trampled by the incoming horses, I turn into a shadow and glide to the side of the street. It is only when I am already there and materializing back into my proper form that I realize I left Isaak to fend for himself. He yelps in fear, diving out of the way at the last minute. The lead rider stops his horse short of almost running into him, proving that Isaak was never in any real danger. Just the unfortunate target to pathetic, dimwitted young men. The two riders behind him interrupt the momentary silence with their laughter, staring at Isaak, who now lies on the ground. His basket to the right of him and the produce once within now littering the surrounding area. I groan inwardly and drop my hand, the shield dispersing. “You dropped something,” the lead rider snorts as he leans forward. His eyes linger on me for a second before going back to Isaak. <<include "1.02.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> I snort in a mix of bewilderment and annoyance. I am not the biggest Uqanan to ever live, but I am Uqanan, and with that comes a kind of pride and fearlessness that many deem unhealthy. I summon my full height and stand in front of Isaak, eyeing those incoming, engaging in a dangerous game of who is more daring. They are feet away when the leader pulls their horse to a stop; the most damage I take is from the dust that flies into my face. I hear Isaak shout behind me, followed by items hitting the ground, but I don’t turn to see what has become of him, still maintaining my indomitable stance. “Maybe next time you should get out of the way,” the leader shouts at me. <<include "1.02.2">>
“You have nothing better to do, Ansellus? Like, I don’t know, get drunk? Whore around? Murder some poor defenseless animal? Seeing as that’s the only thing your blade ever seems to strike,” Isaak lists off, picking himself up and dusting himself off. The two riders with Ansellus erupt in a chorus of ‘ooh’s,’ hoping to spur their friend into retaliating. He stiffens in his saddle, throwing a look over his shoulder and causing both to quiet down. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who hasn’t held anything heavier than a hoe before.” “At least I do my job.” “Ha! What job is that? The last I remember, your pathetic farm hasn’t produced anything but more dirt, and your apprenticeship is far from over. What is this, the sixth year? The only thing worth anything on that farm is that widowed mother. If you ask me, she needs a good hard bedding down,” Ansellus provokes. [[Put an end to this.|1.02EndThis][$allforone +=5; $isaak +=10; $ansellus -=10; $care +=10]] [[Stay out of it.|1.02StayOut][$allforone -=5; $isaak -=10; $ansellus +=10; $care -=10]]
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy +=5>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivarlous ++ / Emotional ++</span><</if>> <</nobr>>\ “Alright,” I growl, standing in front of Isaak so that Ansellus now looks at me, “that’s enough.” I feel Isaak shift closer, either because he wishes to disappear or just to be nearer … or both. Ansellus looks me over, clearly trying to figure out if it’s wise to verbally attack me. <<if $gender is "female">>\ “Isaak,” he starts, chuckling lowly as he dismounts, “I think little of you already but needing a woman to come to your protection? I don’t think it’s possible to get any lower.” His following words are said to me, “I don’t fear you. If you ask me, you should be at home, taking care of some defenseless creature like women are //meant// to do.” “The best thing is that I didn’t ask you,” I bark, taking a step closer to him, “do you have the same attitude towards the women guards, I wonder?” He leans in, “you’re //all// good for two things. Being bent and –” I find it ridiculous to let him continue and summon a gust of wind that catches him off guard. I smile sweetly as he loses his balance and lands face-first into the nearby mud. “You should be careful,” I say mockingly, “defenseless creatures like yourself are so easily hurt, almost as delicate as your fragile egos.” “Crazy $species,” he grumbles, getting to his feet and placing some much-needed space between us. <<elseif $species is "uqanan">>\ He produces a low, nervous chuckle, “we were just joking and playing around. No need to get all serious and bent out of sorts about it.” Somehow, I manage to stand even taller than before, taking a threatening step closer to him. “You’re a joke, so you prey on those you believe are below you. Hoping to satisfy that small puddle of pride that has yet to dry up. Walk. Away.” For added effect, and more for a laugh on my part, I fake a lunge towards him and, forgetting that he’s on a horse, he jumps backward. The stirrups are the only thing that saves him from tumbling off his mount, and I sneer at the sight. <<elseif $species is "cimmerian">>\ “How is your –” Ansellus begins, but I shake my head and interrupt him. “Remember, Ansellus. Say anything I don’t like, and who knows what I might do? Maybe turn into a shadow and scare you when you least expect it. Or ruin your day another way. You have no idea how much taint I have inside me.” I look at him and take a swaying step towards him, widening my eyes, “or what it whispers for me to do to you right now.” He visibly jumps in his saddle, yanking back on the reins, much to his horse’s discontentment. “You’re a joke, so you prey on those you believe are below you. Hoping to satisfy that small puddle of pride that has yet to dry up.” “Crazy Cimmerian,” he grumbles, backing away from me. <<else>>\ “How is //your// apprenticeship going, by the way?” Ansellus questions, raising a curious brow, clearly making his decision. I smirk, “far better than yours. Especially since I could take you down without reaching into my energy pool.” “You owe everything you are to your lineage. I at least have earned my titles.” <<if $species is "ecrid">>I can feel my nashi flicker due to the agitation coursing through me, but I let it go. I would not allow him the satisfaction.<</if>> “And what small titles those are. Correct me, but did I not see you the previous day, running errands for your instructor while others trained? Three years into your own apprenticeship and still with nothing to show.” He stiffens, narrowing his gaze on me as the two behind him whisper, “you are a joke, and so, you prey on those you believe are below you. Hoping to satisfy that small puddle of pride that has yet to dry up.” He looks ready to dismount his horse, but before he can, I send a gust of wind out that tips him over and causes him to land on the hard ground. <</if>>\ “If you will excuse me, I must head back to work.” I turn to Isaak, who has already gathered his runaway crops. The two of us walk away without anything else said. Once we get an appropriate distance away, he turns to me with a broad smile. “Thanks for having my back. You are literally amazing.” “I am still mystified as to why you allow them to speak to you in such a way.” “It is as you said. They prey on the weak,” he shrugs. [[“You make yourself a target though.”|1.02IsaakTarget][$isaak +=3]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance img-invert"></span>[[“You’re not weak.”|1.02NotWeak][$isaak +=3; $isaakLi +=1]]<<else>>[[“You’re not weak.”|1.02NotWeak][$isaak +=3; $isaakLi +=1]]<</if>> <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance img-invert"></span>[[“Then get stronger.”|1.02GetStronger][$isaak -=3; $isaakLi +=1]]<<else>>[[“Then get stronger.”|1.02GetStronger][$isaak -=3; $isaakLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\ [[“You do yourself no favors.”|1.02DoNoFavors][$isaak -=3]]
“Doesn’t mean you have to make yourself an easy target,” I point out. Isaak doesn’t answer, his eyes on the ground as we walk towards his place of work. Once there, he turns to me and gives me a thankful nod, throwing an apple my way before disappearing inside. I chuckle as I walk off, feeling Isaak’s adoring gaze follow me from whatever window he believes hides him. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I stop, turn to him, and gently place my hand on his shoulder, “you’re not weak, Isaak.” His cheeks erupt in a blossoming blush as he adverts his gaze, the ground somehow becoming much more engaging. “Thanks, $name. That means so much coming from you.” Once we get to his place of work, he gives me a thankful nod, his blush still evident. I chuckle as I walk off, feeling Isaak’s adoring gaze follow me from whatever window he believes hides him. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I stop and turn to face him, <<if $notouchy is false>>placing my hand on his shoulder, <</if>>“then perhaps Isaak, you should get stronger.” He frowns, “you say that as if I can just snap my fingers and magically whisk all my problems away like you can.” “That's not what I'm saying at all. But continuing to let them walk over you is not the way to go either. You need to stand up for yourself.” He shrugs his shoulders and fiddle with the basket the rest of the way. Once we make it to his place of work, he hands me an apple before disappearing inside. I sigh to myself as I walk off. I do not wish to anger him, but I speak the truth and refuse to lie simply to safeguard his feelings. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I roll my eyes in annoyance, “you do yourself no favors, you know? I’m not always going to be here to save you from Ansellus or one of the others.” “I’m not asking for you to come and rescue me every second,” he grumbles, placing his basket down once we get to his place of work. He peers over at me from under long lashes and mumbles, “though I’m not complaining.” I sigh in frustration, waving him away and heading back to the shop. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy -=5>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++ / Logical ++</span><</if>> <</nobr>> I decided to stay out of this one, especially since it is time for me to head back to work anyway. I get ready to leave when I see Isaak lunge forward, making harsh contact with the heel of Ansellus’ boot. He falls backward, and before he can get his wits about him, Ansellus dismounts and delivers a punishing kick to Isaak’s stomach. For a minute, Isaak’s gaze connects with mine, and he silently shouts for me to come to his rescue. I look elsewhere, even questioning myself as to why I haven’t begun walking away already. Ansellus grabs him by the collar and yanks him forward, punching him before throwing him back to the ground as if he is something to be disposed of. “Come on, Farmer Boy, make this a challenge. Those defenseless animals you spoke of are far more threatening than you.” Isaak does no such thing, glaring at the ground as he spits a wad of blood. With a smirk, Ansellus returns and remounts his horse, him and the others completely ignoring me as they ride off. Isaak carefully wipes the blood that creeps from his lips, grabbing his basket as he violently begins to throw the scattered fruitage back in. He turns his back to me, attempting to hide the tears I notice edging away from his eyes. “Can we just go?” he barks, standing and walking down the road, back towards his place of work. [[“You shouldn’t cry because of them.”|1.02DontCry][$care -=3]] [[“You need to fight back.”|1.02NeedToFightBack][$care +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> “You know,” I mindlessly begin, “you shouldn’t cry because of them. They’re not worth it.” “I’m … I’m not crying because of them,” he shouts at me, refusing to meet my gaze as he wipes at his eye even harder. It only causes his face to contort further, and he picks up his pace. <<if hasVisited("1.02ProIsaak") and $empathy >=50>>His words are not needed. I can feel every addled and heartbroken feeling that travels and gathers inside him. He wishes to know why a friend left him to fend for himself. And I have no answer for him.<</if>> We walk in silence, Isaak only muttering a goodbye once we get to his destination. I watch as he immediately goes inside, and I head back to the shop. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> “You need to learn how to fight them back,” I sigh, wondering if my words are for him or me. Was I trying to make sense of my lack of interference, or did I genuinely care for his sake? “Why?” he shouts, his tone shocking me, “so they just have a reason to leave me with an inch of my life left?” He looks like he wishes to say more, but he bites his tongue and continues on, picking up his pace. <<if hasVisited("1.02ProIsaak") and $empathy >=50>>His words are not needed. I can feel every addled and heartbroken feeling that travels and gathers inside him. He wishes to know why a friend left him to fend for himself. And I have no answer for him.<</if>> We walk in silence, Isaak only muttering a goodbye once we get to his destination. I watch as he immediately goes inside, and I head back to the shop. <a data-passage="1.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> The day goes by slowly with no word from my master. My mind goes back to when I last saw him, attempting to help me figure out what I had hoped was a typical nightmare. And who’s to say it isn’t? I typically have to endure the dream wraiths for a while before the next day can fully establish itself. Nothing about this vision stands apart from the rest besides //that// image. I shudder, attempting to not even think of it as the door opens and another customer walks in. This one is a regular, a servant who waits on the lord’s lady. “Meredith? What can I do for you today?” “The normal herbs, if you may. My Lady and Lord were also curious about any dreams,” I stiffen as I begin putting the herb basket together, my hand hovering over the sage. “Dreams regarding the town’s wealth and such. The usual,” she adds. I relax, chiding myself for being on edge in the first place. I finish the basket and turn to her with that practiced smile adorning my face, “not this time. They will be the first to know, though, as usual.” She nods at my words and thanks me for the basket as she hands me a small pouch of ruho, seeing herself out. With silence once again my companion, I peer out the nearest window, watching as the sun swims higher in the cloud-speckled sky. I have a few more hours of work before closing up the shop. Until a customer walks in, I might as well use my time wisely. [[I grab the spell book that master had gifted me.|1.03Spells][$spells +=10]] [[I read over his herbalism notes, wishing to learn more.|1.03Herbs][$heal +=10]] [[I’ll practice the cards, at least I could sit at the counter with them.|1.03Cards][$tarot +=10]] [[I’ll meditate off to the side.|1.03Spirit][$spirit +=10]] [[I think I’ll go over the scrolls about curses and other charms.|1.03Chaos][$chaos +=10]] [[I’ll take a look at the diagrams and books on the human mind.|1.03Body][$body +=10]]
I wait a minute more to see if anyone will enter. When they don’t, I head to my pack and grab the notebook that I always keep within. Once a book with endless possibilities. Blank pages screaming for a quill to grace their surface and make them into something more. The book is still partially hollow, but since receiving it as a gift from my master, it has begun to witness its purpose. The book has some spells that my master gave me, while others are ones that I created. They cover many topics, from memory to fighting to curses to prayers and wishes. <<include 1.04>>
I wait a minute more to see if anyone will enter. When they don’t, I head to the back and collect the notes that my master has regarding herbalism. Seeing that he deals in herbalism more than the other specializations, his information is always bountiful and always strikes a chord within me. His notes tell tales of lands untouched by society, heavy with the influence of magic. He cataloged flowers, vegetables, and fruits native to the areas he visited. I remember his face upon discussing them with me, thinking back on his time and wishing to one day return to retire bones that grow weary. <<if $species is "ecrid">>\ Such is the nature of our species. I’ve found that whether it is traveling or just changing, the Ecrid need it. We expect it to some degree. I always compare our kind to rivers. A force that never stops flowing and never seems to return to the same place twice. As we travel, as our years pass us by and horns grow longer, we learn and, like the land, change. <<else>>\ Such is the nature of their species, the Ecrid. I have met only a handful on my journey. And each time, I walk away knowing that I will never again see them. I ponder what such a life would be like, always needing change to occur and to be on the move. <</if>>\ <<include 1.04>>
I grab the card stack that my master keeps in his drawer, pull them out, and return to the front. Shuffling them lazily, I quiz myself on the numerous cards within the deck. This itself takes a significant amount of time, hardly allowing anything else. But it is needed, and it will soon pay off. One of these days, I will be able to gain my own deck. A moment I look forward to. <<include 1.04>>
I wait a minute more to see if anyone will enter. When they don’t, I head to the side where a pillow sits, pour a glass of water, and place it in front of me. I recall my master’s words and the purpose of the water. Anyone can meditate, but a witch is able to do wondrous things, but first, they must center themselves. Meditation requires one to shed worldly desires and thoughts and see themselves as more than they are. To see where they exist amongst the cosmos. My master would pour the cup out and then immediately go into meditation, keeping the water stranded in the air. This cannot be done unless one is wholly transfixed on the water, not on themselves or the world around them. I have tried many times, but I always seem to forget how hard a task it is. And so, I file this down as yet another attempt. <<include 1.04>>
I wait a minute more to see if anyone will enter. When they don’t, I head to the back and gather up my master’s scrolls regarding curses and charms. I sit down and begin to read through them. These scrolls go over potions, curses, and their uses. How they can affect the caster and the one that the curse or charm is cast upon. How an individual standing beside someone cursed can be affected unless wearing the appropriate repelling pendant. <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ Though it is quite different, I see that notes on the taint also rest at the bottom of the scrolls. Whereas one is an infliction from magic, the other is something that I and others are born with. Our creator, Darkness, has given us his disease, whether by accident or to prove that he is as powerful as he believes. That is an answer I am sure will haunt many for centuries to come. I suppose I see why these notes are here. Long has it been discussed if the taint is a disease or a curse. Especially since we can pass it to others and to the environment. Whereas we might see it as hereditary, any outsider will immediately deem it a curse, for they won’t live to see old age if they are exposed to it. <</if>>\ <<include 1.04>>
I wait a minute more to see if anyone will enter. When they don’t, I head to the back and gather the diagrams that my master keeps regarding the mind and body. These diagrams are great for studying, especially when paired with my master’s notes on the psyche of the brain. Everyone, even Alyrians, holds a magical essence. The capacity and ability to use that essence is what differs between the many species. Learn these capacities, learn how the blood moves through the body like water, learn how the mind works, and one can do so much. <<include 1.04>>
Due to the lack of customers, I lose track of time, only looking up when I hear the bell and see Master Audouin entering with an armful of books. He rips the hood to his <<link 'swanik'>><<dialog 'Dictionary Entry'>>(swa-neek/n): a thick type of hooded shawl that stops at the chest in the front, but drapes to the lower back in the back.<</dialog>><</link>> off before nodding a greeting to me. “There you are,” I say, getting up and helping him out, gathering some of the books and placing them on the countertop. I steal a glance at the nearest binding, //The Intricacies of Dream Magic// it reads. My master notices my gaze and gives me a small smile, “if I truly want to help, then understanding your ludá and at least some of the properties is a start.” It is possible for those born with magical properties to have a unique specialization, ludá. One that the average magic user will never be able to learn, nor achieve, no matter how hard they try. Typically, this is due to hereditary reasons, the environment in which one is born, or their species. I know far too little of the place where I grew up. My memories regarding my parents are vague, and I only ever received glimpses. The only thing I know for sure is that my dream magic came from the parents I never met, as the community in which I was raised around did not share my unique eyes. Concerning my parents, though, well … [[I care little for I never knew them.|1.04CaredLittle][$care -=2]] [[I care only because I would never know of my origins.|1.04NeverKnowOrigins]] [[I am shocked, hurt, confused, and alone.|1.04Hurt][$care +=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> They are two people I will probably never meet, so I care little to ever make an effort to locate them if they are still around. Out of all the questions I can ask, what will any of them solve? Learning why decisions were made or why a particular course was taken has long since been deemed pointless. I am here, and I need to continue moving forward. I only wish to know about these eyes ... my eyes ... <<include "1.05">>
I don't care to meet them or learn more about them. I merely would appreciate more knowledge about my lineage. Who I am and why my eyes are like this. Is this an anomaly, or is it to be expected? Can they help me learn everything about my ludá? These are the questions I wish I had answers to, and that is all. Especially questions regarding my eyes. <<include "1.05">>
<<nobr>> <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy +=2>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> <</nobr>> I am shocked, hurt, and even confused about the events that could have transpired. If they had any control of it or if it was all luck. <<link 'Wom'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Nicknamed by many as Karma or Chance, Wom is the Deity of Luck and the product of Cosmos and Ludanis. They are mostly depicted as a deity who like to see the misfortunes of others, enjoying irony and playing petty tricks on those who deserve it. Due to this, many will warn others against praying to Wom when the individual needs it most, lest they wish for them to visit and bathe them in blessings they don’t need. Of course, all of this is purely speculation, as Wom is a solitary deity who likes to be left alone.<</dialog>><</link>>, the god of such area, merely rolling dice and laughing from their pedestal. And what of my eyes, one of the largest mysteries of all. <<include "1.05">>
In a world governed by the idea of ‘everything is as it seems,’ then I should be blind by all accounts. And yet, I can see just as clearly as anyone else. My eyes are those only the blind can claim, pupil-less and nearly a milky white that is unable to claim such tone due to the green and blue tones that expropriate the space. My youth was spent living in fear that something was wrong with me until a wise man spoke of a family of $species with the same eyes. And when questioned about these people, the wise man could say no more, for he knew not their fate. And the realization that I was the last, the only one left of this so-called bloodline, hit me. “Any progress made?” I ask him with apparent interest. He shakes his head, “I already understood your ludá. But to cure you of these visiting nightmares, not so much. Any kind of charm will thwart dreams entirely, and I can think of many who would be angered at such a development.” [[“It’s not their choice, it’s mine.”|1.05NotTheirChoice][$allforone -=2]] [[“Indeed. I don’t wish for my dreams to disappear anyway.”|1.05NoDisappear][$allforone +=2]] [[“I can live with the nightmares.”|1.05LiveWithNightmares][$smug +=2]] [[“That doesn’t sound too bad.”|1.05SoundTooBad][$smug -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> “It’s not their choice,” I tell him, “it’s mine.” “Agreed, but I doubt you want an angry mob running you out of town. I fear that this will mess with your ludá as well, perhaps corrupt it.” <<include "1.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> “Indeed,” I chuckle lowly, “I don’t wish for my dreams to disappear anyway. The good far outweighs the bad.” “I can imagine so.” <<include "1.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> I shrug my shoulders and sit, “I can live with the nightmares. I have for this long.” “Your words hold true.” <<include "1.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> I chew on the inside of my cheek, “that doesn’t sound too bad, actually.” My master pauses, glancing over at me with a raised brow. “Truly? You would see your dreams stop?” “Not all the time, but … sometimes, yes. Until I know more about it to control it.” He huffs, whether, in agreement or judgment, I know not. <<include "1.06">>
“So, how was the workload today?” he questions, shifting the conversation. “Typical, a rude customer but mostly just regulars. Isaak has yet to learn how to defend himself properly, though.” “Still?” my master questions, peeking his head out of the room he enters, frowning at me before disappearing, “that boy is the second biggest mystery in this town.” “What’s the first?” “How he has a crush on you, of all people,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes playfully. Though I frown at the thought of Isaak. It never ceases to bother me that the entire town knows about Isaak’s crush on me. His attempts at subtlety are atrocious. Most of the townspeople leave it at that, no one speaking on it. But my master finds it fun to tease me at times, either that or he simply wishes to remind me of Isaak’s feelings whenever he can. <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance img-invert"></span>[[But it is cute. Sometimes I wonder if I share in his feelings.|1.06CrushPos][$isaakLi +=1; $crushStatus = "head over heels"]]<<else>>[[But it is cute. Sometimes I wonder if I share in his feelings.|1.06CrushPos][$isaakLi +=1; $crushStatus = "head over heels"]]<</if>> <</if>>\ <<if $r_att is "abs">>\ [[I will never feel the same way about him, so it is truly all one-sided.|1.06CrushNeut][$crushStatus = "it exists, that's about it"]] <<else>>\ [[The crush is harmless enough, so I ignored the signs.|1.06CrushNeut][$crushStatus = "it exists, that's about it"]] <</if>>\ [[It was annoying to say the least. Telling him I wasn’t interested did little.|1.06CrushNeg][$crushStatus = "it exists, that's about it"]]
The crush is cute enough, especially from someone so sweet and innately shy. Isaak is enough of a friend to me that I believe I can feel the same for him. Though, at the moment, having such strong feelings for someone is unwise. It interferes with my training and can even disrupt some of the spells. <<include "1.06.1">>
<<if $r_att is "abs">>The feelings will never be reciprocated. He is a nice enough guy, but what he desires is not something that I can supply. Though I have never said such a thing aloud, I believe he at least has some understanding of this truth.<<else>>Though he does a horrible job at it, he does attempt to hide his feelings. I have never said such a thing aloud, but I believe he knows that I don’t feel the same.<</if>> So his crush mostly just means that he blushes a lot, has a staring problem, and compliments me every once and all the time. All things I can do without. <<include "1.06.1">>
It isn’t that he ignores my rejections, more like he is just horrible at hiding his feelings for me and that I suppose telling someone you aren’t interested doesn’t always mean they suddenly feel the same. His rosy cheeks always give him away, especially when he thinks I’m not looking. <<include "1.06.1">>
Master Audouin <<if $tarot is 0>>comes back out, shuffling his tarot cards and sitting on the counter.<<else>>Master Audouin spies his card deck, and after I pass them over, he begins to shuffle them. I watch as he looks from me to his cards and then back at them, acting as if I haven’t caught the curious glance he sends my way.<</if>> “Would you like to do a reading?” I question with a teasing smile. “Would you mind? I want to do something remotely interesting before the day comes to an end. And who knows, maybe this will tell us if your nightmare was just that or something more.” “How much did you do today?” I ask. “Too much, yet too little. I suppose I should sleep.” “Did you get any sleep after I left you yesternight?” “Not really. Your words had me on edge, and so <<if hasVisited ("1.00Wards")>>I double-checked the warding you placed<<else>>I redid the wards<</if>> and applied a few more, as well as searching for any spiritual residue in the <<link 'elysian plane'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The elysian plane is the spiritual plane of Jiwenia. Spirits, demons, gods, and deities reside there. Though the living can walk the line and enter certain areas, they can not physically materialize, and the same goes for spirits in the mortal world, not without a host.<</dialog>><</link>>.” I roll my eyes. No one ever said that Master Witches are wise. They can learn and master all of the primary specialties, yet sleep always seems to elude them. “Come on, $name, just let me do this reading. The cards always set me at ease.” His nashi flashes a bright gold before dimming, just as eager as he. <<if $species is "ecrid">>\ I sigh inwardly, feeling his own eagerness echoing through me. Our Ecrid connection causes curiosity that isn’t there before to surface. <</if>>\ [[Let him do the reading.|1.06LetHimRead][$audouin +=1]] [[Send him to sleep.|1.06SendtoSleep]]
I let out a weak sigh, nodding and then pointing to the table where he typically conducts his readings. We sit, and he passes them to me to shuffle before spilling the cards onto the table. His right-hand hovers over them, his green magic flowing freely across the cards. I watch them react to the familiar magic, dancing underneath an unseen wind. When he finally lowers his hand, some of the cards settle into a typical spread, while the others are pushed away by his magic. The spread is in the shape of a cross, with one card lying sideways on top of the one in the middle. “Hmm, let’s do one card for this. $name, if you would.” I focus on the nightmare. On my missing eyes and the feeling of darting through the woods, not understanding what was trailing me. The cauldron and my master’s doppelgänger. And that voice. A voice that still causes goosebumps to rise along my skin. My master closes his eyes, hands hovering over the cards. Suddenly he stops and flips over one. We both lean in – the Wheel of Fortune stares back at me. “What does it say?” I ask him. I know what the card stands for and the meaning behind it. But even that isn’t enough to read what it attempts to convey. “Don’t shy away from your destiny simply because rotten foliage lies in the way or the path has been weathered and can hardly be seen. Your wheel has only just begun to turn. The beginning will soon be upon you. Know what goes up will always come down.” <a data-passage="1.07"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I take the cards from him and give him a stern glare. “You must sleep. Now.” He rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue, fighting a yawn to give weight to my prior remark. With a huff and a nod of surrender, he tells me goodnight and walks off, leaving me to close the shop properly and then head out for the night. <<include "1.07">>
I walk outside and face the chilled night air that represents the passing of <<link 'Hat-ein'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>The month of resurgence and transformation. Hat’ein starts the new year, signaled by the falling of magic meteors intertwined with that of Chaoxian. Hat’ein revitalizes the air, land, and people, cleansing the air and renewing the world’s magic. Despite its beauty, it is also known as the time of ethereal danger, attracting demons and causing those sensitive to magic to suffer greatly. Thankfully, the month is short, lasting nearly a week before moving into Monsuna.<</dialog>><</link>> upon the land. Soon this land will once again be met by somber clouds and gruesome winds. But the storms of <<link 'Monsuna'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Monsuna is the second month in the year and both the wettest and second shortest month, known for its thunderous storms and cloudy skies. It is the month of growth and new beginnings.<</dialog>><</link>> would help to heal and grow the earth. The streets are emptying now as the people of <<link 'Akrisos'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Akrisos is a large town that sits to the north of the Prywth Forest, northeast of Ipharia, and south of Brinecross. Despite its closeness to Ipharia and size, it is a pretty ordinary town with nothing exciting about it.<</dialog>><</link>> put down their tools after a long day of work. Heading home or to the tavern to finish off the day. [[Head to the tavern.|1.07Tavern][$tJeffrey = true]] [[Go check up on Isaak.|1.07CheckOnIsaak][$isaak +=5]] [[Head straight home.|1.07StraightHome]]
Since that nightmare, I have yet to have a proper drink. I head towards the brightly lit tavern, the most popular place once the sun has left the sky in this town. Everyone’s workday, save for that of the guards, has come to an end, and they see no better way to end it than to drink it away. Some wave their mugs around while belching out tavern songs far off-tune. Others chose to drink in peace, securing themselves a table in the corner and content on merely watching the unfolding debauchery. The guards in attendance are the most raucous of all the patrons, laughing loud enough for the entire tavern to get an earful. They jump on top of the tables, fall a few seconds later, and then start the cycle anew. I navigate the drunken waters until I’m at the bar, nodding towards the barkeep, Jeffrey. How he handles this every day, I will never know. “What’ll it be today, $name?” “Just pour me some ale. One mug will do for tonight.” He nods and heads to the large tankard to fulfill my order. I watch him for a time when a hand hits me harshly on the back, almost causing me to fall from the barstool that I am currently perched on. Ansellus now stands beside me, grinning his stupid, shit-eating grin. “My good sir, I’ll pay for this ?man’s ale.” <<if $gender is "female">>\ [[“Should I be grateful?”|1.07Grateful][$ansellus +=3; $smug +=3]] <</if>>\ [[“With what ruho?”|1.07WhatRuho][$ruho -=10; $ansellus -=5; $smug +=5]] [[“No, he won’t.”|1.07NoHeWont][$ruho -=10; $ansellus -=3]] [[Say nothing.|1.07SayNothing][$ansellus +=3; $smug -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> “Oh, you will, huh? Should I be grateful? Get down on my knees and kiss your feet in reverence?” Each word is dripping with so much sarcasm that even I pause momentarily, believing to be overdoing it. But, according to Ansellus, I wasn’t laying it on thick enough. Instead of being offended, he has the effrontery to seem pleased. He now only waits for me to actually carry out my proposal. “It’s all part of the job,” he sings, “helping defenseless women is what I do.” I focus on Jeffrey, who is doing his best to ignore the scene, “so, Jeffrey,” I sigh dreamily, “let the town’s chauvinist pay for my drink or actually conduct myself with dignity?” “I’ll give it to you free simply for having to deal with him tonight,” he assures me, leaving to get me said drink. Ansellus leans towards me, his breath reeking of one too many drinks, his eyes almost glazed over, “you think you’re better than everyone,” he starts, and I reach out to push him away with my pointer finger. <<include "1.07T.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> “With what ruho?” I question with a curious smile, removing his hand and leaning onto the bar top, “how much does licking your superior’s boots get you nowadays anyway?” Ansellus leans towards me, reeking of one too many drinks and eyes nearly glazed over, “you think you’re better than everyone,” he starts, and I reach out to push him away with my pointer finger. <<include "1.07T.1">>
“No, he won’t,” I snarl, removing his hand and looking towards Jeffrey, who nods in understanding. Ansellus leans towards me, reeking of one too many drinks and eyes nearly glazed over. “You think you’re better than everyone,” he murmurs, and I reach out to push him away with my pointer finger. <<include "1.07T.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> Who am I to say no to this kind and drunken gentleman? If Ansellus wishes to use his hard-earned boot cleaning ruho, I will not stop him. He places the ruho down before turning to me again. “I’m surprised you accepted. You always act and walk around like you’re better than everyone.” <<include "1.07T.1">>
I smirk, “no, just you.” Any kind of amusement that once makes up his face disappears. He turns to the people and points an accusing finger at me. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the witch who will ruin us all.” A few of the patrons stop and turn their attention to Ansellus, but many more ignore him, “a dream of good harvestings here, and a dream of favor with the gods there, all to hide ?his true purpose. ?He will destroy this town because ?he’s just another crooked $species with too much power.” He turns, lowering his voice, “you and that master of yours. You’re both disgusting.” [[“You’ve had a bit too much to drink.”|1.07TooMuchDrink][$hostile -=10]] [[“Says the magic-less Alyrian.”|1.07MagicLessAlyrian][$ansellus -=10; $insult = true; $hostile +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> I remain seated, thanking Jeffrey as he comes over with my mug, “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps you should head home for the night.” To further prove my point, he stumbles against the bar, causing both Jeffrey and I to roll our eyes. “?He’s right, Ansellus. Go home,” Jeffrey commands. Ansellus looks to argue, but the barkeep narrows his eyes in warning, daring the man to do anything more. Grumbling and walking off, Ansellus leaves me to finish my drink. “If only it were always as simple as ‘go home,’” I say to Jeffrey, who chuckles. <<include "1.07T.2">>
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Ansellus will not forget your words.<</notify>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> I remain seated, thanking Jeffrey as he comes over with my mug, “says the magic-less //Alyrian//,” I state, emphasizing the one word that Humans seem to hate. No one I ever questioned has ever been able to tell me why collectively they all hate the word for which they are. I see Jeffrey roll his eyes but say nothing. Ansellus, on the other hand, bristles at the term. He lunges towards me when Jeffrey shouts at him. “Enough of that, Ansellus! Go ahead and make your way on home. $name came in here, and you were the last thing on ?his mind.” Ansellus looks to argue, but the barkeep narrows his eyes in warning, daring the man to do anything more. Grumbling and walking off, Ansellus leaves me to finish my drink. “Thanks are in order,” I tell Jeffrey, and he waves any further words away. <<include "1.07T.2">>
“Ansellus speaks out of his ass. You shouldn’t take his words as anything more than misplaced shite.” “I’ll drink to that,” I chuckle, taking a long gulp of my drink, “any interesting news?” Jeffrey leans back, tapping his chin in thought, “I can’t think of much. Nothing besides the upcoming coronation. Some folks aren’t exactly happy about it.” He meets my eye and gives me a knowing look. I hear whispers on the wind, some even originating from this very tavern, all surrounding the premature coronation. One can hardly find a grey hair on King Tybalt’s head (though that is just an exaggeration, seeing that the King is bald), causing many to wonder why he wishes for his son to supersede him so quickly. Thanking Jeffrey for the drink and the company, I turn in. Heading home to bury myself underneath warm linen. <a data-passage="1.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Before I head home, I decide to see how Isaak is doing. Ansellus messing with him isn’t new. In fact, if there is ever a day that Ansellus leaves him alone, I would be worried. No matter how many times I question Isaak, though, he never gives me a reason for putting up with Ansellus’ crap. He just does. I get to Isaak’s house, noticing that the lantern is currently lit at the back of his home. I wander there first, my curiosity growing as I get closer and hear someone grunting while something else hits the soil. “Isaak?” I question, taking in the scene once I’m behind the house. His field is destroyed; seedlings once so brave in breaching the soil now lie upon it dead. The entire area holds holes of differing sizes, the imprint of hooves easily recognizable. “I hate this!” Isaak shouts, hurling the shovel deep into the field. We both watch as it goes soaring, landing with a plop. He falls to his butt and glares at the ruined area as if it has done this. “I’m sorry,” I murmur to him, sitting beside him<<if $notouchy>>.<<else>> and placing a hand on his shoulder.<</if>> “Oh uh … it’s fi … fine. I mean.” Instead of continuing on, he closes his mouth and stares out at the field. “Can your next dream tell me when I get out of this town?” he questions, and I chuckle softly. “I told you about personal requests. My dreams don’t work like that. And even so, would you leave your mother? This farm has been in your –” “Don’t finish that sentence, $name. I beg of you.” He looks at me with large, hopeless eyes and points to the field, “you were destined to be a farmer, Isaak,” he mimics, sounding awfully close to the town’s shaman. I was relieved to not be born here, for when I heard that everyone here was given a specific job upon birth, it bewildered me. The shaman would visit a newborn and, through divine intervention, I suppose, tell the family what the child will grow to be. Isaak, like the rest of the men in his family, has always been told farmer. [[“You don’t even try to be good at this.”|1.07DontTryToBeGood][$care -=5; $isaak -=2]] [[“Then be something else.”|1.07BeSomethingElse][$care +=5; $isaak +=2]] [[“You’ll be the first to know if my dreams mention you.”|1.07FirstToKnow][$isaak +=3]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance img-invert"></span>[[“You have to help it grow.” Show him.|1.07ShowIsaak][$isaakLi +=1]]<<else>>[[“You have to help it grow.” Show him.|1.07ShowIsaak][$isaakLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
<<if $species is "ecrid">>\<<set $empathy -=2>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> “I would understand if you actually tried to farm. But you don’t. Do you even want to be good at this?” “I do,” he growls, “I try so hard, but just because you try at something doesn’t mean you’re destined to be great at it. Farming, there’s an art to it. I understand that, and … I just don’t have what it takes. And no, I don’t want to do this. So how can I possibly throw my all into it when I never care in the end?” <<include "1.07Isaak2">>
<<if $species is "ecrid">>\<<set $empathy +=2>><</if>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> “Then be something else, it’s not that hard,” I point out, and he shakes his head, also rolling his eyes. “Says the witch that was able to get an apprenticeship with a master of his craft.” He stops himself, his eyes widening as he looks at me remorsefully. “You didn’t see my Selection. Only two instructors showed up, one of them was a tailor, and the other had to do with farming. And the tailor barely showed interest in me as it was. Either I chose the farmer, or I would be the first lad here without an apprenticeship at my age. I couldn’t do that to my mom.” <<include "1.07Isaak2">>
“Well … you’ll be the first to know if my dreams mention you, okay?” Isaak fights to smile, a weak attempt, so he decides to just nod his head in thanks. <<include "1.07Isaak2">>
“Well,” I start, pushing myself off the spot from beside him and approaching one of the rows of crops, “if you don’t care enough, it’ll never happen.” I motion Isaak to my side and run my hands through the dirt. “You just can’t dump water on top of it and think that’s all that’s needed. Plants aren’t that different from us; they need more.” Carefully, I take his hands and place them on the ground, placing one of mine on top of his. I draw the activation symbol for the earth and then water, with my other. Taking a deep breath in, I channel my magic and picture a healthy seedling, one that will grow and reach the sky. I fill my thoughts with warmth and care, recalling what I know of plants, their needs, and what my master has taught me. Finally, I remove my hands, and Isaak does the same, peering down at the now green seedling that spurts out of the dirt, standing proud and hopeful, already reaching for the distant sky. “They need love,” I tell him, and his eyes rise to meet mine. “$name,” Isaak murmurs, a light blush decorating his cheeks as he glances away, “thank you.” “You don’t have to thank me, Isaak,” I tell him, yanking him into a tight and comforting hug. He immediately hugs me back, melting in my embrace before softly squeezing and then moving. I tell him goodnight and begin my walk home, wondering if he’ll take my lesson to heart. <a data-passage="1.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
After a few minutes of sitting quietly, Isaak rises to his feet<<if $notouchy>>, “thanks … for checking on me. And listening to me rant.”<<else>>, helping me up. His hands linger, and only when he realizes that my hands are still in his does he drop them as if he is burned. He fights to hide a forming blush while he rubs his arm, “thanks … for checking on me. And listening to me rant.”<</if>> [[“No problem.”|1.07IsaakNoProblem]] [[Hug him goodnight.|1.07IsaakHug][$isaak +=3]]
“No problem,” I tell him, playfully tapping his shoulder before waving goodbye. He shouts goodnight behind me before I hear his door close as he goes inside. <a data-passage="1.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“You don’t have to thank me, Isaak,” I tell him, yanking him into a tight and comforting hug. He immediately hugs me back, melting in my embrace before softly squeezing and then moving. I tell him goodnight and begin my walk home. <a data-passage="1.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I decide to head straight home after a long and tiring day. I make brief conversation with a few of those who initiate it, wave to others, and almost collapse on my bed when I walk through my home. <a data-passage="1.08"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> Raindrops. A bright sun. A loving wind. Drip. Thunder in the distance. Drop. Lighting striking the horizon. Cheering. Bright smiles. Laughter. Hands meeting hips, lips meeting cheeks. Families coming together, hearts combining into one. Dancing in the square. Tables adorned with a bountiful harvest. Colors intermingling, contrasting. Sun plays his flute. Moon her harp. And Darkness, his lute. <a data-passage="1.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
When the first beams of light break through my window, I awake with a perhaps laughable but hopeful heart. My dream from the previous night comes to me along with all the love and cheer contained within. I quickly throw on my clothes and head to the shaman’s house, a task that I do every time I am graced with a new dream. Most of these dreams are for the town, a few for the kingdom. That’s what helped me make a name for myself here and further out in the domain, the witch that can see through ?his dreams. Before wishing to pursue my studies under a master, I would venture around and, if the gods blessed my dreams, later tell the town what I had seen. The shaman’s house is perhaps the smallest in the town. One enters and is immediately met by hanging herbs and a smoky fragrance that always smells of something different with each visit. “Ah-ha, <<if $species is "kren">><<if $gender is "female">>sister<<elseif $gender is "male">>brother<<else>>kin<</if>><<else>>$name<</if>>,” I hear the shaman shout, though I see him nowhere. I search the small bedroom he calls his and then head to the slightly larger kitchen area. He is there, standing before a fire and stirring something in a chipped brown bowl. “Joining me for breakfast?” The older Kren wears a comically broad smile, nodding to the dish. [[“No, thank you.”|1.09NoThanks]] [[“Sure, thanks.”|1.09Sure][$soup = true]] [[Stare at the bowl and then at him.|1.09StareAtBowl]]
I eye the dark grey soup within the pot, a color that I never knew could be associated with soup. “No, thank you.” “So, what do I owe the pleasure? Another dream, perhaps?” I nod, and he claps his hands, ignoring the spoon that drops from his grasp and the soup as he comes up to me. “Quite splendid. I will spread the word, and later today, we will assemble like normal.” I nod my thanks to him before leaving, quickly hurrying to my master’s home. <<include "1.09.1">>
I eye the dark grey soup within the pot. Appearance-wise it didn’t seem wise, but I learned that judging things simply because of the presentation is ignorant. He grabs a spare bowl and puts three large spoonfuls within, handing it to me. “So what do I owe the pleasure? Another dream, perhaps?” I nod, and he claps his hands, ignoring the spoon that drops from his grasp and the soup as he comes up to me. I take this time to taste the soup, shocked that the appearance does little to promote what is such a delicious taste. A series of different sensations dance across my tongue, melding into one as it leaps down my throat. It warms my stomach, reminding me of a wintry afternoon spent by the fire. <<include "1.09.1">>
I eye the dark grey soup within the pot, a color that I never knew could be associated with soup. I glance over at the shaman in distaste, believing he understands exactly why I wear this expression. He huffs defensively and shrugs. “So what do I owe the pleasure? Another dream, perhaps?” I nod, and he claps his hands, ignoring the spoon that drops from his grasp and the soup as he comes up to me. “Quite splendid. I will spread the word, and later today, we will assemble like normal.” I nod my thanks to him before leaving, quickly hurrying to my master’s home. <<include "1.09.1">>
I open the door, freezing when I see Master Audouin entertaining a guest. A man wearing a black mantle with silver embroidery, paired with a simple pair of hose, stands in the middle of the shop. There is an urgent look about him and his wear. The look of a man that had been hastily awakened and told to head out with no pre-notification. I catch sight of the bag resting at his side, the symbol of Nidinia’s royal house emblazoned on it. I clear my throat humbly, “my apologies, I didn’t know you had a guest.” “$name,” my master begins, beckoning me in before gesturing to the man, “allow me to introduce you to Nathaniel, the King’s Messenger.” “Oh,” I state, nodding my head towards the guest as he turns to me and does the same. “I am here on orders from the king to formally invite you and your master to the Coronation Ball.” With his words, he hands me a small, rolled-up scroll. On it is more or less what the man has just said. The parchment intended to be both my invitation and ticket. [[“Why does the King truly wish for my presence?”|1.09Why][$smug +=10]] [[“Thank you, we would be glad to attend.”|1.09GladToAttend][$smug -=10]] [[“He wants me to make an appearance?”|1.09MakeAnAppearance]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> “I’m honored, but I fail to understand why the King would wish for //my// presence.” “The King and the Crown Prince both wish for the Dream Seer to tell the kingdom of its fate.” That makes perfect sense, but I don’t wish to be beheaded due to my ludá not working like they probably envision. “Does King Tybalt know that my ludá doesn’t work upon command?” The Messenger nods his head, “he told me to tell you that all will be discussed upon arrival.” Ah, so less of an invitation and more of a summoning. I nod, placing the invitation in my pack. “It has been good meeting you both, and I look forward to seeing you at the coronation. Good day,” the Messenger bows slightly one last time before seeing his way out. My attention now wholly on my master. “Or perhaps he will only be seeing me?” I ask, and my master groans inwardly. “These old bones despise travel nowadays.” “You say that as if you haven’t been daydreaming of new explorations for some time.” “My apologies. These old bones despise traveling to that crowded city they call a capital.” “I doubt they will appreciate you not accepting an invitation, personally delivered no less.” <<include "1.09.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> “Thank you for delivering this to us,” I say, “we both would be glad to attend.” My master raises a brow but says nothing. “That is grand news. I look forward to seeing you at the coronation. Good day,” the messenger bows slightly one last time before seeing his way out. My attention now wholly on my master. “Or perhaps he will only be seeing me?” I ask, and my master groans inwardly. “These old bones despise travel nowadays.” “You say that as if you haven’t been daydreaming of new explorations for some time.” “My apologies. These old bones despise traveling to that crowded city they call a capital.” “I doubt they will appreciate you not accepting an invitation, personally delivered no less.” <<include "1.09.2">>
“He wants me to attend? Me? Are you sure? The King of Nidinia?” The messenger chuckles as he hands the invitation over, “unless there is another who bears your eyes and name, then yes, you.” I take the scroll, still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of the King personally asking for my presence. “I look forward to seeing you at the coronation. Good day.” The messenger bows slightly one last time before seeing his way out. My attention now wholly on my master. “Can you believe it? The King asked for my presence.” “You seem overjoyed, if not shocked. I do hope you have fun.” “You received one too, right?” Though the action is pointless as I catch sight of the invitation in his hand. <<include "1.09.2">>
“I’m sure that I only received an invitation because they asked for your presence. Therefore, not extending one to me would be rude, and many things dealing with decorum.” I snort, “you find it far ruder that they extended such a request to you. Don’t you?” “You’re correct. Hmm, I suppose I could pay Delilah a much-needed visit.” I raise a brow at a name I have never heard spoken. Slinking closer to my master, I tap his shoulder inquisitively. <a data-passage="1.09.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“So, who’s Delilah?” I wiggle my brows while drawing out her name. He chuckles and rolls his eyes, “she’s my daughter.” I gasp, sounding like I’m feigning shock, though such emotion is genuine. Master Audouin did not speak about his past with me frequently, but I know enough to trust him, as he knows enough to trust me. And though he is still a highly mysterious man, he has let his guard drop tremendously with me over the last year. “Master, I didn’t know you had a secret lover. What happened?” “It is a dull tale,” he informs, playing with his beard as he avoids eye contact with me, “and our lost romance is a ridiculous one.” [[Pressure him to tell me.|1.09Pressure][$audouin +=1; $delilahTold = true]] [[Leave it alone.|1.09LeaveItAlone]]
<<if settings.choiceShow>><<notify 5s>>Master Audouin revealed the story of his daughter and wife. This will affect the future.<</notify>><</if>> “Aw, come on. I doubt a tale such as this one could be described in such a way.” He gives me a look and, with a chuckle, nods and walks to his open window. His nashi brightens up, shimmering such a bright gold that even the purest cut gems would pale in comparison. “Her name was Alvina,” he sighs longingly, “my lovely, Alvina.” I cock my head to the side as he looks into the distance forlornly, and though I wish to encourage him to continue, stay quiet. He turns to me, “I met her in the square one day in this little out of the way town. I was there to learn more about a single flower that bloomed once a season, a rare sight to see. And there she was, painting the flower and humming the prettiest song. She loved to paint; she did. For some odd reason, she painted me all the time,” he gestures to his face and raises a brow, sighing afterward. “She was a talented woman and so curious. She took great interest in my abilities. Always wanting me to do a reading or to show her my cards. There was this one painting she did after I had told her my favorite card. The Wheel of Fortune … the painting she drew, was so intense. I can see it, yet I can hardly even describe it … I’m sorry.” I shake my head at his apology, “no need to express regret. I understand what you mean.” <a data-passage="1.09.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
He nods firmly, narrowing his gaze on a dirty spot on the floor and then taking a keen interest in a smudge, “one day, she asked me to do another reading. It was The Tower.” I sigh for him, knowing exactly what the tower meant. Far too many had gotten such a card when coming in with interests I surmise are similar to Alvina’s. “She …” he looks down at his hands and closes his eyes. “She believed the cards spoke of our relationship. We were having … issues, though they could easily be corrected. I suppose lying to her and saying it would all be okay was a waste as well,” he points to his nashi markings, “these darn things make it quite impossible to lie sometimes. She feared what that meant for us, and instead of fixing it, she ran. She took my child and ran. And that was the last I saw of her.” He looks at me, clearing his throat and straightening up. “But as I said, it was a dull tale, and I have wasted enough of our time. Perhaps we should discuss your dream, though?” I nod, saying nothing more about the story that I was just told. <a data-passage="1.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I nod, understanding when to push my master’s buttons and when an action is unwise. “Now then, let us discuss your dream,” he says, taking a seat in his favorite chair. <<include "1.10">>
<<if $soup>>\ I reach for a chair, my mind wrongly estimating where it is, and I almost trip. Steadying myself, I peek over at my master, who sits and stares at me with a raised and curious brow. “Are you okay?” he questions. I nod and sit, moving on from my clumsiness. <</if>>\ “I think it was simple enough,” I begin to tell him, effortlessly remembering it, “it started with raindrops, falling softly from the sky before in more of a hurry. The sun peeked over the hill, and the wind followed close behind. Thunder and lightning in the distance. And then, celebration. A great feast and hopeful hearts. The mood was intoxicating and joyous. The High Gods each played their own instrument as they looked down upon the dancing town.” “And your thoughts?” he questions. “Monsuna will come down upon us with strong storms. Storms that will bring plenty rain but not enough to drown the plants. By <<link 'Smoten'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Smoten is the third and one of the longest months on the Jiwenia calendar. It is known as the month of potential and warmth. With the growth of Monsuna now showing, Smoten is full of early harvests and adventure. Many cultures have their outdoor festivals during this time, and romance is always at its fullest.<</dialog>><</link>>, the town shall be faced with a wonderful bounty that will continue into <<link 'Beasxos'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Beasxos is the fourth season lying on a Jiwenia calendar. The month of change and preparing. Beasxos sees a tempered-down attitude from Smoten. Many preparing for the next month and the trials that it will bring.<</dialog>><</link>>. The Smoten Festival will be a time of great celebration, and love will take root in many hearts. All will be fine.” <a data-passage="1.11"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Gazing over at my master, he nods in agreement, “the town will be glad to hear such a fortune. Come, we should construct a list of things to bring to the capital. We can also do a review as we go. Hopefully, we can finish before you must go in front of the town and tell them what they all wish to hear.” I stand and stretch, asking, “what do you want to review?” “How about the specialist focuses and activation symbols.” I nod, already knowing the activation symbols needed but failing to remember anything about specialist focuses.” “You know about the activation symbols due to performing spells in the past,” Master Audouin begins, “no matter what spell you do, you will always draw one or more of the activation symbols being …” He gazes at me, looking to see if I can finish his sentence. [[Earth, water, air, fire, darkness, and light.|1.11Wrong]] [[Earth, water, air, fire, wind, and metal.|1.11Wrong]] [[Earth, water, air, fire, body, and spirit.|1.11Right][$spells +=5; $audouin +=1]]
I repeat what I believe is to be all the activation symbols, and Master Audouin gives me a nod of approval. <<include "1.11.2">>
I repeat what I believe is to be all the activation symbols, but Master Audouin shakes his head, “you almost got it, but the last two are body and spirit.” <<include "1.11.2">>
“These activation symbols are paired with the specializations and will always need to be activated to use. This is why some wielders will carry charms or get magically imbued tattoos of the activation symbols, making it easier and faster to trigger spells. The focuses, though, I don’t think we’ve gone over them since it’s not a requirement for specializations.” My master pauses as he takes a moment to write down something on the list, squinting in thought before coming back to the lesson. “Body and chaos are both known as energy focused, meaning they need a substantial amount of energy to sustain and be of any use to the wielder. One can do this by using talismans that give the wielder a larger pool of energy or siphon energy off of something. Tarot and the healing specialization are known as skill-focused. You improve through experience and knowledge. This is also why mastering the two of these takes longer. You can’t rush it or overburden yourself to try and speed up the mastering process. Finally, we have the spiritual specialization, which is soul-focused. You need to be balanced, know yourself, and understand how to meditate to make this specialization easier. Some talismans and potions can help block out the world or put you in a calm state.” My master continues to speak about the specializations and how to better prepare oneself. I listen but can’t help my wandering mind as I think about what will come later when I tell the town of my dreams. <a data-passage="1.12"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
We spend the remaining part of the day tending to customers and creating a list for the trip<<if $soup>>, or my master does anyway. My mind takes me on a journey that becomes increasingly hard to hide from my master’s watchful eye. At one point, a customer questions me about a specific potion, and I begin to tell them how vital each ingredient is to the world.<<else>>We would be traveling with the Lord’s party but would be allowed to bring our own wagon. Knowing my master, he will wish to do some business while on the road.<</if>> Far too soon does the time to speak to the town arrive, and I follow my master towards the main square where most of the townsfolk now gather. To think, they all drop what they’re doing to come and hear what I have to say. [[They had better, this concerned them.|1.12ThisConcernedThem][$care +=2]] [[I had far more power than I give myself credit.|1.12MoPowerMoProblems][$smug +=5]] [[This always made me nervous.|1.12NervousWreck][$smug -=5]] [[Time to get this over with, I had better things to do.|1.12TimeToGetThisOverWith][$hostile +=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> I snort at my own thought. Why wouldn’t they come? What is the point in not attending when it affects their future? What if I have some grave news and no one shows? I suppose that will just be doom on all of them. <<include "1.12.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> I can stand before them and say that my dream shows a town throwing all their dear belongings into the river, stating that the gods need to be appeased. I can tell them anything, and as long as I make it sound eloquent, they will probably believe me. <<include "1.12.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> I’m not a talker, and sometimes I miss how I once did this sort of thing while out on the road. I would tell a notable figure of the town, and they would go and spread the word of what I had said. I fail to remember how I got roped into telling an entire town myself. <<include "1.12.2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> I despise these things, almost so much that I question whether or not to tell the shaman when gifted with a dream. But then, I would be asked endlessly by him and the people of the town, all of them wishing to know if I had received anything recently. <<include "1.12.2">>
“<<if $species is "kren">><<if $gender is "female">>Sister Kren<<elseif $gender is "male">>Brother Kren<<else>>Ah, my kin Kren<</if>><<else>>$name<</if>>,” the shaman starts, motioning for me to join him on the small makeshift stage. I follow behind him, gazing at the numerous faces that I now gaze out at. Many of them are friendly faces, faces I have grown accustomed to. A few are faces I never felt needed to be learned. Whether they live in the town or not, they are faces that I don’t see on my everyday ventures, and therefore they stay nameless. Now that I am up here, I will have to figure out how to tell them. [[Pull a prank first.|1.12Prank][$honesty -=10]] [[Straight and to the point.|1.12ToThePoint][$honesty +=10]] [[Oh gods, here we go.|1.12OhGods][$smug -=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> <<if $soup>>\ <<include "SoupTalk">> <<else>>\ “I had a dream last night,” I begin, thinking through my choice of words as I stare out at the people, “a dream that told me of this town’s demise.” That immediately makes them gasp, eyes widening as they turn to their neighbor in fear. “Can we avoid it?” a voice calls out, and I sigh sadly, about to tell him that my dreams always come true. They were written in fate. Before I can utter such a thing, a deep voice behind me clears his throat, and I turn to see my master giving me a reprimanding look. I lightly smirk, turning back to the crowd, “I’m sorry, I was kidding. Just a little joke.” My reassurance causes them all to sigh in unison, some laugh, some eye me wearily, and others simply mumble and then wait for my real news. “My dream was actually about the seasons to come. Monsuna, with all its fury, will send in its storms to drown the land. But fear not, for it will be kind, and love still exists in its heart, and it will only do enough to water the lands and cleanse our souls. By the time Smoten and Beasxos arrive, the land will be bountiful, and harvests will be fruitful. The Smoten Festival will be kept dear to our hearts as they flutter off due to confessions of love, and our dancing feet will allow them to flee, for the music will be too strong.” My words earn me a standing ovation, the town erupting into cheers and screams of happiness. I watch as farmers hug one another, shop-keeps shake hands as they probably think over the best time to sell their wares. And I even see a few wandering eyes, meeting those with whom they share a connection. With my job done, I get down off the pedestal and walk over to my master. “You are getting better at this,” he tells me, <<if $notouchy>>a wide grin appearing<<else>>placing his hand on my shoulder softly, a wide grin then appears<</if>>, “perhaps you are wrong, maybe this is your calling.” “Don’t you dare,” I chuckle, shooing us away from the square. One thing I don’t want is for the crowd to engulf me with their individual questions. No matter how often I say it, they always believe that my dreams touch individual faces and fates. Their questions are more for the cards than my dreams. <a data-passage="1.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Honesty ++</span><</if>> <<if $soup>>\ <<include "SoupTalk">> <<else>>\ I clear my throat, sighing inwardly as I gather my thoughts and try to think of ways to condense them. “My dream spoke of Monsuna’s rains, and the ferocity in which they would fall. Worry not, for they won’t drown your plants or this land, Monsuna still has love in its heart for the town of Akrisos. By the time Smoten and Beasxos arrive, the land will be bountiful, and harvests will be fruitful. The Smoten Festival will be one to remember.” My words earn me a standing ovation, the town erupting into cheers and screams of happiness. I watch as farmers hug one another, shop-keeps shake hands as they probably think over the best time to sell their wares. And I even see a few wandering eyes, meeting those with whom they share a connection. With my job done, I get down off the pedestal and walk over to my master. “You are indeed one of few words,” he tells me. “The quicker I get it over with, the faster we can escape,” I chuckle, shooing us away from the square. One thing I don’t want is for the crowd to engulf me with their individual questions. No matter how often I say it, they always believe that my dreams touch individual faces and fates. Their questions are more for the cards than my dreams. <a data-passage="1.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> <<if $soup>>\ <<include "SoupTalk">> <<else>>\ I face the crowd and immediately feel my hands grow clammy, and a cold chill overtakes my body. My eyes hop from one face to the other, and they all end up looking like the same person before long. I open my mouth but find my throat is dry, and my voice hides away. “You can do this,” I hear my master whisper behind me and feel his calming presence at my side, though he still stands off to the side. I take in a deep, shaky breath and begin. “My dream spoke of Monsuna’s rains and the ferocity in which they would fall. Worry not, for they won’t drown your plants or this land. Monsuna still has love in its heart for the town of Akrisos. By the time Smoten and Beasxos arrive, the land will be bountiful, and harvests will be fruitful. The Smoten Festival will be filled with laughter and dance, and love will have sprouted in some, ready to be plucked and gifted to another.” My words earn me a standing ovation, the town erupting into cheers and screams of happiness. I watch as farmers hug one another, shop-keeps shake hands as they probably think over the best time to sell their wares. And I even see a few wandering eyes, meeting those with whom they share a connection. With my job done, I get down off the pedestal and walk over to my master. “Are you okay?” my master asks, quickly guiding me away from the crowd and towards the shop. “Breathe, ground yourself. Perhaps I should be the one to go up there from now on.” “No,” I tell him, this not being the first time we have discussed this, “it will be more genuine coming from me, and I need to learn how to conquer my nerves.” He doesn’t look happy about it, but he respects my decision and nods. <a data-passage="1.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I busy my time listening to my master’s humming in the next room over while I flip through his latest teachings. The notes sit to my right, and the books are directly in front of me. And yet, my eyes are trained on the mirror that he hung up some time ago, mainly for those who need to see his applied glamour. I stare into it, gazing at my eyes. Eyes that seem to cause so much trouble have also gifted me in many ways. I’ve found myself looking at them far more often due to that nightmare. It still unnerves me, though I like to think myself over it. Perhaps Master Audouin’s doppelgänger caused the nightmare to stick out or the whisper in the air that we were being watched. I recall when I was young and clueless about the idea that one’s eyes can tell a story without the individual ever speaking. Blind, that was a foreign word to me. One who couldn’t see. And yet, I never remember not being able to do such a thing. I could pick out certain things from my childhood that always stuck with me, though ironically, I could never remember the faces of those who called themselves parents. Glimpses would race through my mind far too quickly for me to grasp and cling to. It feels more like a missing memory than anything else, my mind trying to reclaim it, but it is always too slippery. Or perhaps, my mind has fabricated that, giving me false hopes as it decides to come up with a backstory for my eyes, for why I am like no other. [[I hated my eyes.|1.14]] [[I adored my eyes.|1.14]] [[I couldn’t help what I was born with.|1.14]]
<<if $species is "kren">>\ Though rare, I also sometimes have to face those who think I deserve whatever misfortune comes to me. I remember one such man laughing when he first saw me, stating that all Kren deserved some kind of deformity due to how high we, as a people, hold ourselves. He had yet to realize that my supposed impairment wasn’t actual. But I doubt I needed sight to see his foul nature as clearly as any other. He wasn’t the only one either. I met many who took their pity or misguided thoughts one step further than need be. They see my species, my race, as my backstory. As if all Kren share the exact origins and struggles. I never knew the forests that many of my people did. Perhaps one day I will. I have forever to do so. Yet, I am in no rush. <<elseif $species is "cimmerian">>\ But fright is a look that I have gotten used to. My appearance alone already brought about fear and dubious glares. My eyes either draw pity or cause others to think that fate has intervened. I remember one such man spitting toward me, smirking as he stated that I deserved whatever had given me these eyes. Of course, in the end, he was the ignorant one, not knowing that these eyes are just like any other. But that matters little to him and those who agreed with his words. They saw a Cimmerian, nothing more. <<elseif $species is "uqanan">>\ But fright is a look that I have gotten used to. I can’t recall a time when someone hasn’t looked upon me and immediately withdrew into themselves (not counting Isaak, of course). Compared to many other species, my stature is large and towering. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for many to accept me, but not all of those open arms are welcoming. Some see my perceived impairment as a means to belittle me behind my back, believing that I failed to see them. I watch with narrowed eyes as they mock and insult me, only to try and be kind to me a minute later. <<elseif $species is "phaizarn">>\ In a world that would usually not spare me a second glance, my eyes cause such a notion to become obsolete. I remember shifting into my second form, believing these eyes would change or that I would discover a secret that my bipedal form could not. I learned that such thoughts had no backing. In fact, I received even more pitied gazes as an animal, many rushing to my side, caring not for boundaries as they attempted to help me. I was treated like a cub without guidance, and they saw their sympathetic cooing as my salvation. <<else>>\ In a world that usually overlooks people like me, my eyes do little to aid me in the skill set of disappearing. When I was younger, I remember walking around and immediately feeling the pity everyone felt washing over me. A bucket of freezing cold water dumped on my head, drenching me and seeping into my skin until it reached my bone. Their emotions became mine, and I soon felt pity and hatred for myself. It took a long time to realize how to control an ability I never truly knew I had. And even today, I still have trouble. <</if>>\ “$name?” I shake myself from my thoughts, looking up to see my master right beside me, a look of worry residing in his soft golden-brown eyes. It is a look I have received far too many times the past few days. I sigh and glare at the words before me, though I make out none of the text, “how long have you been calling me?” “For some time now. Are you sure you’re okay? Perhaps you should go home, give yourself a break?” “No, I need to finish this lesson.” “You need to finally get a good night’s sleep. First, the nightmare, then the dream. I pray to <<link 'Moon'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Moon is one of the three High Gods and twin sister to Sun. She was created by Charznos and Orain to govern over Jiwenia. Moon is understanding, calm, caring, and far more emotional than the other two High Gods. She shows care for every living thing on the planet, regardless of origins, and believes strongly in second chances. She believes that each creation has a light within them, and it is up to them, and those around them, to bring it out.<</dialog>><</link>> that she blesses you with idleness.” I look to argue further but refrain, knowing that I will not win this fight. I bid him goodnight as I head towards my hut, finding the venture there dull. I close the door and change to my nightwear. [[Pray to Moon.|1.14PrayMoon][$pious +=10]] [[Go to bed immediately.|1.14BedImmediately]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Devotion ++</span><</if>> I sit on my bed and close my eyes. Taking a deep breath in, I bow my head. I whisper a short prayer to Moon, Guider of Paths, and Maker of the Stars. I pray for her to watch over my dreams, guide them as she sees fit, and bless me with an irenic night. With my prayer uttered, I close my eyes and drift off into sleep. <a data-passage="Chapter Two"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
I yawn, collapsing onto my bed and bringing the covers over me. Here’s to hoping for an irenic night. <a data-passage="Chapter Two"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
I open my mouth to speak and instead begin to sway, my eyes focusing on every bright color it can and then starting to desaturate it. Or is that just the clouds? I jerk and glare at the sky as if it will open up and rain will fall upon us. “Uh, $name?” my master whispers, and I shush him, pausing when I realize I’m waving at the wrong person. “So, I had a dream,” I begin with a broad smile, “that there would be rain. And then more rain. And more rain, and guess what,” I pause as if to give everyone time to guess. “More rain?” a voice questions from the crowd. “Wrong! Hail. It will be … wet. Very wet.” I wander to the edge of the stage and sit, swinging my feet as I look at those right in front of me. I poke out my lip and toss my head from side to side. “But what is wet? What is water and spring, and why do we need them? Water is life. It’s purity. It comes from those little white fluffy things, and it falls down ... plop. Plop. Do you know why? Because the clouds want to clean us. From all the way up there, they see dirt, and they feel the urge to clean. But,” I stop as I stare at the clouds, deeper in thought, “what are clouds even made of? And why water? Why not fire? What does water even taste like? How do you explain that to a child?” I narrow my eyes on the crowd that stands before me in what I think is confusion. My brain isn’t actually deciphering everything like it typically does. “Are fishes wet?” <a data-passage="1.12.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Alright,” I hear my master shout and turn to see him helping me to my feet, “it’s a good thing that I remember what you told me.” “No,” the shaman inserts, cross-legged, sitting on the other side, “?he asked an excellent question. Are they?” My master covers my mouth, keeping me from continuing my query as he tells the crowd about my dreams and what they mean for the town. While he does that, I continue to think to myself about my own self-asked questions. Plop. Plop. Once he is done, he leads me away, stopping and turning to me, “did you have some of the shaman’s soup?” I nod. “I see. Come, let us get you back to normal.” And he leads me back to the store. <a data-passage="1.13"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<set $gwMaster = false; $answer to "tower"; $kingKnows = false; $sicknessKnown = false; $horseshoes to 0; $piefool to 0; $armwrestling to 0; $bards to 0; $banquet to 0; $archerycomp to 0; $racing to 0; $tugofwar to 0; $vendors to 0; $break to 0; $colfKing = false; $negPrinceVibes = false; $lordAnger = false; $masterApp = false; $watchEclipse = false; $moonpendant = false; $ludanispendant = false; $lockpick = false; $trapspell = false; $redhanded = false>> <<unset $civil, $tired, $outfit, $frontLine, $sellstuff; $insult>> <<playlist "ambience" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ <img src="images/three.png"> Pit of snakes. Venom dripping off open and ready maws. A lone shadow. Step back. One. Two. Too late. Shadows devouring. Sky bleeding. Shouts. Screams. Sadness. Fangs show through greedy grins. Bloody hands, red-hued eyes, pale skin. Sickness. Death. Realization. Acceptance. Broken hourglass dripping blood onto marble floors. A bloody crown, thrown into the pit. The snakes lunge. <a data-passage="3.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The first sign I receive that says this is no nightmare is the paling effects of the headache that follow behind all dreams. Whereas a nightmare would linger for hours, causing me to want to crawl into myself and stay there, this dream already begins to fade, only its meaning remaining. Also, nightmares are always of a cryptic nature, perhaps adding to the continuous headache. This dream, I could decipher far more quickly. And yet, even with how much I hated nightmares and the toll they take on me, I wish it was one. For if this was a dream then I had learned what the King probably wished for me not too. But my dreams were puzzling. For all I know, the meaning of this dream was something utterly different from what I was thinking. [[Go to my master.|3Master][$audouin +=1; $gwMaster = true]] [[Take a walk.|3TakeWalk]]
I get to my feet and head to the room that they told me my master would be in, if of course he hadn’t chosen some inn instead. I pound on the door, hearing footsteps and a minute later he opens the door. His hair frazzled, some parts of it sticking straight up, and others draping themselves lazily across his horns. “$name, you have impeccable timing, come in.” I look around the room that looks identical to mine, only the setup differing. “What were you doing?” He nods to a desk where a single candle burns. The paper there has only four words, ‘To My Dear Delilah.’ “I thought you were going to go see her. Why are you writing a letter?” “I’m not so good with words. I was hoping to get my thoughts out on paper,” he explains, taking off his reading glasses and placing them on a nearby stand. “But I find I’m even worse at writing. What is it? Did you need something?” “I had a dream, and I need your help deciphering it. I believe I know the meaning, but I sorely hope I’m wrong.” “Then let’s hear it.” I retell the dream, translating pictures into words. Upon finishing, I look to my master for his thoughts, but he sits quietly, going over what I said with his eyes closed and head tilted up. “Before I tell you my thoughts, what do you think it foretells?” [[“Assassination. Someone in the royal family is going to be killed.”]] [[“Death. Someone’s death is going to start something horrible.”]] [[“Treachery. Someone is going to trick someone in the royal family.”]]
“It sounds like an assassination attempt that has a good chance of succeeding.” “Hmm, but then how do you explain the sickness, the pale skin, and red-hued eyes?” “Sometimes my dream gives me extra details that are useless?” I ask more than I say. “I don’t think so. Each time I heard you recount your dreams, I find that every part of it factors in. It sounds more like someone of the royal family is sick, walking up to the Elytzi’s door. But it would seem that before death can rightfully claim them, these snakes will attack.” “And they’re attacking the crown.” “I don’t believe your dream speaks of assassination, but I do believe that it will lead to it.” I pause as I recount what the King had said to me that night, “His Majesty said something about a rebellion? Do you know anything about that perchance?” “I have heard rumors of an insurgency rising in the east but not much. Did he seem bothered by such events?” “Irritated at best, but no, not bothered.” My master hums in thought. “So what do we do?” He straightens up at my words, looking me over in interest. “Do you wish not to tell the King?” It would be wise since he did warn me to only share any dreams I had with him, but I didn’t wish to know what the King would do to me for possessing this knowledge. If my master was right, if this was alluding to a deadly sickness, then the King wouldn’t be happy with me learning about it. Especially since they all seemed to play this, ‘game.’ <a data-passage="3.00.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“It sounds like someone is sick, and their death is going to lead to some horrible events.” “Hmm, I do believe you’re right. It sounds like someone of the royal family is sick, walking up to the Elytzi’s door. But it would seem that before death can even set in, these snakes will attack.” “And they’re attacking the crown.” “Your dream speaks of sickness, but it also suggests to so much more.” I pause as I recount what the King had said to me that night, “His Majesty said something about a rebellion? Do you know anything about that perchance?” “I have heard rumors of an insurgency rising in the east but not much. Did he seem bothered by such events?” “Irritated at best, but no, not bothered.” My master hums in thought. “So what do we do?” My master straightens up at my words, looking me over in interest. “Do you wish not to tell the King?” It would be wise since he did warn me to only share any dreams I had with him, but I didn’t wish to know what the King would do to me for possessing this knowledge. If my master was right, if this was alluding to a deadly sickness, then the King wouldn’t be happy with me learning about it. Especially since they all seemed to play this, ‘game.’ <a data-passage="3.00.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“It sounds like treason, someone in the royal family is about to be crossed and will pay the price.” “Hmm, but then how do you explain the sickness, the pale skin, and red-hued eyes?” “Sometimes, my dream gives me extra details that are useless?” I ask more than I say. “I don’t think so. Each time I heard your dreams, I find that every part of it factors in. It sounds more like someone of the royal family is sick, walking up to the elytzi’s door. But it would seem that before death can even set in, these snakes will attack.” “And they’re attacking the crown.” “I don’t believe your dream speaks of treason, but I do believe that it has a hand in this all the same.” I pause as I recount what the King had said to me that night, “His Majesty said something about a rebellion? Do you know anything about that perchance?” “I have heard rumors of an insurgency rising in the east but not much. Did he seem bothered by such events?” “Irritated at best, but no, not bothered.” My master hums in thought. “So what do we do?” My master straightens up at my words, looking me over in interest. “Do you wish not to tell the King?” It would be wise since he did warn me to only share any dreams I had with him, but I didn’t wish to know what the King would do to me for possessing this knowledge. If my master was right, if this was alluding to a deadly sickness, then the King wouldn’t be happy with me learning about it. Especially since they all seemed to play this, ‘game.’ <a data-passage="3.00.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“I don’t know yet. I … I need to think about it some more.” My master nods, his gaze drifting over to the dying candle and the parchment that rests there. “Well, I suppose I should head out to see my dear Delilah before the sun puts a damper on everything.” “I shall come as well. I would very much like to meet this Delilah.” He nods as he gathers some of his things in his pack and then leads me out of his room, down the hall, and soon out of the castle. We wander quietly through the quiet torch-lit streets, not a soul in sight. Compared to the festive spirit of the town earlier, this mood was almost uncomfortable. Earlier, one couldn’t even hear their own thoughts, but now I could detect my own footstep as it made contact with the stone pathway. I glance at the many houses we pass, wondering which one my master’s daughter occupied. My thoughts grow even heavier before stopping when he enters the cemetery. “M … Master Audouin?” I ask nervously as I come to a stop beside him as he kneels before a sculpture. I watch as he rests his head on the dirt as he mumbles words not meant for my ears. The sculpture was of a butterfly, one whose wings were a pretty ocean blue, peach, and a faded green that could hardly be made out. The patterns were wild and extravagant, each line racing towards another playfully. Realization hits as my eyes follow the lines that were meant to spell out a name, Delilah. <a data-passage="3.00.2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Tell me about her,” I whisper, fearing the harsh wind would steal my words before they reach my silent master. I sit down next to him, giving him time to reply. “Where do I start,” he chuckles, “she was a lively one. Gave these aged bones of mine a run for. She loved seeing new things and would always hound me about taking her to faraway places. I never met someone so interested in my stories. And I loved telling her them. We would stay up at night, and I would sing to her, creating a new lullaby each night just for my dear Delilah. Her spirit could never be pacified, she was a tsunami even when the sickness began to claim her.” He chokes on his own words, his fingers curling around the grass. “She wanted to do so much good. Wanted to change the lives of those around her, and I had no doubt that she would. But the gods took her ... why’d they take her? My dear Delilah? She was too young.” He screams his last words to the heavens, wanting someone high above to give him some sort of reply. No doubt, he had searched far and wide for it. He runs his hand over the sculpture of the brightly painted butterfly, leaning on it for support. “Born in a field of Delilahs and dancing with the butterflies. She was meant to soar so high, there was no reason for En to clip her wings.” <<if $delilahTold>>\ He straightens up, “$name. I lied to you before about my daughter and my wife.” Though I didn’t say so aloud, that much was obvious. Especially when I thought she was alive but was now staring at a tombstone. “Alvina and I had a daughter who chose the name of Delilah. For a time, everything was perfect in the world. I had no plans to go back to my old life of travel, for Alvina made an old Ecrid wish to settle down. But a horrible sickness overcame Delilah. I did all that I could, buried myself in my notes on herbalism, but I found no answers. We prayed to any god who would hear us, none responded.” He wipes the flowing tears from his eyes. I’m suddenly aware of the sensation of something wet hitting me. I gaze up to see the sky opening up slowly, allowing raindrops to fall against my skin. If my master notices, then he shows no sign. His tears mix with the fresh rain and the thunder that rumbles in the far distance elevates the despondent mood. “One day, Alvina asked for me to do a reading for our daughter. The card that was chosen …” <<textbox "$answer" "">> <a data-passage="3.00.3"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ He straightens up, “$name. I should tell you about what happened.” “It’s fine, especially if you don’t want to.” “It’s okay,” he reassures. “My wife, Alvina, and I had a daughter who chose the name of Delilah. For a time, everything was perfect in the world. I had no plans to go back to my old life of travel, for Alvina made an old Ecrid wish to settle down. But a horrible sickness overcame Delilah. I did all that I could, buried myself in my notes on herbalism, but I found no answers. We prayed to any god who would hear us, none responded.” He wipes the flowing tears from his eyes. I’m suddenly aware of the sensation of something wet hitting me. I gaze up to see the sky opening up slowly, allowing raindrops to fall against my skin. If my master notices, then he shows no sign. His tears mix with the fresh rain and the thunder that rumbles in the far distance elevates the despondent mood. “One day, Alvina asked for me to do a reading for our daughter. The card was that of the Tower.” I gulp, knowing well what that card represented. <a data-passage="3.00.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<if [ "tower", "Tower" ].includes($answer)>> <<nobr>><<set $audouin +=1>><</nobr>> “The tower?” I say breathlessly, and he nods to confirm my words. <<else>>\ “No,” he says with a shake of his head, “it was the tower.” <</if>>\ <<include "3.00.4">>
He shakes his head sadly, his tail wrapping around his waist as he holds himself there. “She felt as if there was no hope for our child. The doctors were stomped, magic could only do so much, and my notes showed me no solutions. Our daughter was dying, and the morning she left our plane and entered the <<link 'Elysian Fields'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Each culture, species, and race has their own thoughts about what happens to them when they die. Several cultures and species believe that when a soul dies, and En is done judging them, their soul passes on to the Elysian Fields, the Forever Land. This is where spirits thrive, and souls live out the rest of their lives, to run free amongst sprawling meadows that go on forever.<</dialog>><</link>> was the last day I saw Alvina. I couldn’t bear to stay in Ipharia, surrounded by so many faces I didn’t know, surrounded by so many people losing their loved ones. And so, I found sanctuary in Akrisos.” He looks up at me with recognition, “and then I received the message from you.” <<if $dad>>\ A subtle, content smile appeared on his face, “I know you were simply joking when you called me father and that it was probably a slip-up. But it caused these old bones of mine to feel like I had done something right in the world. Knowing that someone with as much potential for greatness as you, looks up to a doddering fool of an Ecrid like me … it gives me purpose.” <</if>>\ A distant lightning strike signals the end of the story, though my master refuses to move from his spot. The rain was now coming down harder, pounding us relentlessly. [[Persuade him to follow me back to the castle.][$persuade +=2]] [[Stay here with Master Audouin.|3StayHereMA]] [[I was heading back, but he could stay.]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Persuasion ++</span><</if>> “Master,” I say gently, resting my hand on his back, “we must head back before this rainfall gets worse.” “I … I haven’t even told her what I wished to tell her yet,” he tells me. “We can come back when the rain is not as ruthless.” He looks ready to argue but with a bowed head, rises and joins me. I usher both of us out of the cemetery and back towards the castle, or the direction I hope the castle resides. Once safely back inside, I walk him to his room, closing the door gently. I turn towards mine when lightning strikes the earth, lighting up the otherwise dark hallway. At the end of the hall, my eyes deceive me, and I think I see a figure staring at me. Yet, the next strike of light proves this to be my imagination. I shake my head and hurry to my own room, changing clothes and bringing my pillow close as I fade back into a dreamless sleep. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Despite the beating that the rain was giving both of us, I stay beside my master. I push him gently, “tell her about the letter.” “But … I hadn’t even finished writing it.” “You are a master of many things,” I chuckle, “but writing is not one of them. Perhaps it is better this way.” My master is quiet for a while before I hear him sigh deeply. “Delilah, I had written you a letter, but my apprentice was not only gifted with incredible sight but also lousy timing.” “That can be debated,” I laugh. “Indeed. I … I was to tell you about all the happenings that had gone on since last time … since your death, I suppose. I’m deeply sorry that I never visited. I never had the strength. Even writing a letter to you caused me to freeze up and reexperience the grief of losing you. I try and tell myself that you are in a place of wonder. The Kre always say that the Fields of Elysian are filled with utter wonder, a paradise for every single person. I can imagine you dancing with your butterflies in your field of Delilahs. I …” I hear him whimper and feel his body shake, “I miss you so much, my dear. The days haven’t gotten easier, my ability to just push everything down has just gotten better.” He begins to choke on his words and soon, is unable to speak at all. He buries his face in his hands. “Oh god, my poor child,” he cries. I give him space, sitting quietly as he mourns the child he lost, and the rain washes his tears and cries away. I usher both of us out of the cemetery and back towards the castle, or the direction I hope the castle resides. Once safely back inside, I walk him to his room, closing the door gently. I turn towards mine when lightning strikes the earth, lighting up the otherwise dark hallway. At the end of the hall, my eyes deceive me, and I think I see a figure staring at me. Yet, the next strike of light proves this to be my imagination. I shake my head and hurry to my own room, changing clothes and bringing my pillow close as I fade back into a dreamless sleep. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Master,” I say, “I will give you some time alone.” I don’t see him nod, but I also don’t hear him argue or attempt to persuade me to stay. And so, I rise and see myself out of the cemetery and back towards the castle, or the direction I hope the castle resides. Once safely back inside, I walk to my room when lightning strikes the earth, lighting up the otherwise dark hallway. At the end of the hall, my eyes deceive me, and I think I see a figure staring at me. Yet, the next strike of light proves this to be my imagination. I shake my head and hurry to my own room, changing clothes and bringing my pillow close as I fade back into a dreamless sleep. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I push myself out of bed and trudge to the chest where my things rest. Grabbing some night shoes and putting on some trousers and a suitable undershirt, I leave the comforts of the room and castle. I walk past the gates and towards town, taking in the cool breeze that the night had been gifted. I search the skies, no sign of Moon in sight, perhaps away on business elsewhere. That dream … Though it could mean a number of things, the theme of death was blatant. It stared back at me like a loyal pup, waiting to be given its next command. How could I possibly tell the King this? Tell him that death would befall his family or even him. That those that he might trust will lunge at this opportunity with greedy hands and determined eyes. As I walk through the torch-lit streets, I go over the dream in my head, breaking it down in hopes of learning its true meaning. Most times, I would have sought my master’s aid. His ability to seek out the true meaning behind my words was an impressive, not to mention helpful, skill. But seeing that the King wished for me to tell no one of my dreams, besides he, I was left to my own devices. [[Focus on the sick figure.]] [[Focus on the pit of snakes.]] [[Focus on the bloody crown and the lone shadow.]]
Further, in my dream, I saw the skin of one who I couldn’t describe as anything but sick. Their skin pink and folded over each other, small red bumps scattered along it, eyes that reflected back death. But in those eyes, I could also see realization. I knew not who those eyes belonged to, but they had heard death’s call long ago and had come to terms with it. Deep in my thoughts, I’m suddenly aware of the sensation of something wet hitting me. I gaze up to see the sky opening up slowly, allowing raindrops to fall against my skin. I look back, the sight of the castle nowhere in sight, in fact, nothing seemed familiar. The heavier the rain came down, the faster my heart began to beat as I attempted to figure out where I was. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as it attempted to obscure my vision. Despite the overwhelming darkness, my sight fails me not, and in the distance, I can make out the silhouette of a building and welcoming lanterns.<<else>>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as they obscured my vision. I am forced to rely purely on the blurry circles of light in the distance, beckoning me towards them.<</if>> I make my way there when I hear the sound of hoofbeats behind me, the sound slowing before quickening as they near. [[Run.|3Run][$fight +=5]] [[Freeze.|3Freeze][$fight -=5]]
The snakes were the first thing that my dream had shown me. And to make matters worse, the dream failed to show just one snake, but a pit of them. Each slithering overtop the other, attempting to be the first to teach whoever was unlucky enough to wander too close, the lesson they had planned. Snakes had many meanings, though in this case, backstabbers and danger lying in wait were the obvious implications. Deep in my thoughts, I’m suddenly aware of the sensation of something wet hitting me. I gaze up to see the sky opening up slowly, allowing raindrops to fall against my skin. I look back, the sight of the castle nowhere in sight, in fact, nothing seemed familiar. The heavier the rain came down, the faster my heart began to beat as I attempted to figure out where I was. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as it attempted to obscure my vision. Despite the overwhelming darkness, my sight fails me not, and in the distance, I can make out the silhouette of a building and welcoming lanterns.<<else>>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as they obscured my vision. I am forced to rely purely on the blurry circles of light in the distance, beckoning me towards them.<</if>> I make my way there when I hear the sound of hoofbeats behind me, the sound slowing before quickening as they near. [[Run.|3Run][$fight +=5]] [[Freeze.|3Freeze][$fight -=5]]
I think about the bloody crown that would be tossed to them like some kind of discarded toy. The lone shadow who was walking towards the pit … Could it be some unknowing fool who had happened upon the scene? Or could it be the orchestrator, the one snake that knew where to strike? And even more important, did I know this snake? Deep in my thoughts, I’m suddenly aware of the sensation of something wet hitting me. I gaze up to see the sky opening up slowly, allowing raindrops to fall against my skin. I look back, the sight of the castle nowhere in sight, in fact, nothing seemed familiar. The heavier the rain came down, the faster my heart began to beat as I attempted to figure out where I was. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as it attempted to obscure my vision. Despite the overwhelming darkness, my sight fails me not, and in the distance, I can make out the silhouette of a building and welcoming lanterns.<<else>>The absence of the moon allowed the rain and darkness to take center stage, dancing with one another as they obscured my vision. I am forced to rely purely on the blurry circles of light in the distance, beckoning me towards them.<</if>> I make my way there when I hear the sound of hoofbeats behind me, the sound slowing before quickening as they near. [[Run.|3Run][$fight +=5]] [[Freeze.|3Freeze][$fight -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Offender ++</span><</if>> I gasp in horror and command my legs to go, urging myself to go faster before I inevitably slip in the dirt turned mud. I lay there as the initial pain subsides, groaning as the sound of whoever approaches ceases. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>\ I attempt to spot whoever it was but can only make out the silhouettes of the horse and rider. <</if>>\ “Whose there?” the rider shouts and I watch as they dismount and approach, lantern in hand as they stand over me. “$name?” they question, and as they come to stand over me I realize it's General Averill, worry clearly written on $his face. “And here I thought I was going to meet my end,” I sigh dramatically, thanking $him for $his assistance as $he helps me to my feet. “Here I thought my midnight ride would be a peaceful one,” $he replies, a row of teeth showing. I was <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>making out<<else>>just barely able to make out<</if>> the two smaller orc tusks that $he possessed. “I apologize then.” “No need. But come, this weather is sickening.” $He guides me over to $his horse, who snorts as I approach, gazing down at me through long eyelashes. “Falke is curious, but a sweetheart nevertheless,” Averill assures me. [[“Thanks, but I can walk.”|3ICanWalk]] [[Get in the saddle.|3GetInSaddle]] <<if $flirt_averill>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[Ask Averill for help.][$averillLi +=1]]<<else>>[[Ask Averill for help.][$averillLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Defender ++</span><</if>> I gasp in horror, my legs locking up as I stand there in the rain, unaware of what is about to befall me. “Who goes there?” the rider shouts as they and their lantern grow closer. The rider stops their horse directly beside me and I find myself gazing into the familiar ice-cold eyes of General Averill. “$name?” $he questions. “And here I thought I was going to meet my end,” I sigh dramatically, thanking $him for $his assistance as $he helps me to my feet. “Here I thought my midnight ride would be a peaceful one,” $he replies, a row of teeth showing. I was <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "kren">>making out<<else>>just barely able to make out<</if>> the two smaller orc tusks that $he possessed. “I apologize then.” “No need. But come, this weather is sickening.” $He guides me over to $his horse, who snorts as I approach, gazing down at me through long eyelashes. “Falke is curious, but a sweetheart nevertheless,” Averill assures me. [[“Thanks, but I can walk.”|3ICanWalk]] [[Get in the saddle.|3GetInSaddle]] <<if $flirt_averill>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[Ask Averill for help.][$averillLi +=1]]<<else>>[[Ask Averill for help.][$averillLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
I clear my throat and throw a look $his way, “thanks, but I can walk. Just guide me.” I’m unable to see Averill’s face but $he doesn’t say anything else as $he gets back into $his saddle and does as I ask. “Are you going to tell me what you were doing out here?” Averill inquires, “or should I attempt at guessing?” “I just needed to clear my head.” “In the rain?” “It wasn’t raining when I first came out. By the time it started, I was too far to figure out which way the castle lied.” “I see,” Averill says, clearing $his throat as $he attempts to shift the conversation, “I only hope that the foul weather will subside for the festival’s sake.” “This festival, tell me more about it.” “The Festival of Crowns is more for the commoners of Ipharia, though you will see many nobles as well. There are games and activities, competitions for even the knights and guards. It is truly a joyous time, organized by Prince Ingram’s guiding hand.” <a data-passage="3.00.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I hoist myself into the saddle, letting the reins go slack as the horse naturally follows the light of Averill’s lantern. “Are you going to tell me what you were doing out here?” Averill inquires, “or should I attempt at guessing?” “I just needed to clear my head.” “In the rain?” “It wasn’t raining when I first came out. By the time it started, I was too far to figure out which way the castle lied.” “I see,” Averill says, clearing $his throat as $he attempts to shift the conversation, “I only hope that the foul weather will subside for the festival’s sake.” “This festival, tell me more about it.” “The Festival of Crowns is more for the commoners of Ipharia, though you will see many nobles as well. There are games and activities, competitions for even the knights and guards. It is truly a joyous time, organized by Prince Ingram’s guiding hand.” <a data-passage="3.00.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I clear my throat and turn to $him, “would you mind helping me get in the saddle?” <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ The question, on my part, was purely meant as an attempt to flirt. But logically, it wasn’t realistic. I was close if not the same, height as the horse. The horse needed more help than I did. Averill seems to understand this as well as $he looks from me to Falke. “Scared that you’ll fall?” $he jokes, and I wave $his words away, hoisting myself into the saddle myself. Once situated, Averill taps $his leg, and Falke follows close behind $him. <<else>>\ “Of course.” Effortlessly, Averill hoists me up, $his fingers lingering for a moment to make sure that I was secure before moving them away. Once I was situated, $he taps $his leg, and Falke follows close behind $him. <</if>>\ “Are you going to tell me what you were doing out here?” Averill inquires, “or should I attempt at guessing?” “I just needed to clear my head.” “In the rain?” “It wasn’t raining when I first came out. By the time it started, I was too far to figure out which way the castle lied.” “I see,” Averill says, clearing $his throat as $he attempts to shift the conversation, “I only hope that the foul weather will subside for the festival’s sake.” “This festival, tell me more about it.” “The Festival of Crowns is more for the commoners of Ipharia, though you will see many nobles as well. There are games and activities, competitions for even the knights and guards. It is truly a joyous time, organized by Prince Ingram’s guiding hand.” <a data-passage="3.00.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Prince Ingram … have you met him?” Averill stops Falke outside of what I hope is an inn. As long as there is a roaring fire, I would be content. I dismount, and we step inside, finding the area practically deserted. The air was odd but the inn's saving grace came in the shape of a fireplace on the far wall. “This is the local inn. I know the woman who owns it, so tell her that I dropped you off.” I nod, still curious about my recent question and $his answer. I don’t repeat the question, but I do take note of $his reluctance to answer. [[“Do you agree with the king’s choice?”][$averill -=3]] [[“I’m guessing you’re leaving?”|3GuessingLeaving]] <<if $flirt_averill>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[“If it’s not too forward, can I ask you to stay?”][$averillLi +=1]]<<else>>[[“If it’s not too forward, can I ask you to stay?”][$averillLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\ [[Thank Averill.|3ThankAverill][$averill +=3]]
I turn towards Averill, “do you agree with the king’s choice?” “My approval of the king means nothing.” “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have an opinion.” Averill sends me a look, those eyes easily taking on a stern look. $He was no Ecrid but $he was just as bad at hiding $his emotions. $His posture had stiffened considerably and after averting $his gaze, $he doesn’t look at me again. $He disappears for a minute before returning with a bundle of blankets, handing them to me before pointing to a closed door. “That’s a spare room that only guards know about, you can seek solace there for tonight. Again, if you’re questioned, just tell them that I helped you. I must get back to my patrol. Goodnight.” And with nothing more than a nod, $he turns and heads back into the downpour that rests on the other side of these walls. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I watch $him for some time, realizing that $he wasn’t getting comfortable. “I’m guessing you’re leaving?” “I do apologize, but I must return to my patrol duties.” “Isn’t that a job for the night watch?” Averill snickers as $he goes to a closet and hands me two thick blankets, “typically it is, but due to the looming coronation, security has gotten stricter. The King’s Guard has been given multiple duties, and this happens to be one of them.” I nod in understanding. This was the perfect time for someone to go through with a threat or, as my dreams so vividly showed me, an assassination attempt. “That’s a spare room that only guards know about, you can seek solace in there for tonight,” he begins, pointing to a closed-door next to the open closet. “Again, if you’re questioned, just tell them that I helped you. Goodnight, ?name, it was again, a pleasure.” And with nothing more than a nod, $he turns and heads back into the downpour that rests on the other side of these walls. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I watch $him for some time, realizing that $he wasn’t getting comfortable, and a part of me grows sad at the thought. “If it’s not too forward on my part, can I ask you to stay?” Averill stops what $he’s doing and gazes over at me, clearing $his throat a second later. “I … apologize. Despite how much I would welcome the idea of spending more time with you, I must get back to my duties.” I pout, “isn’t that a job for the night watch?” Averill snickers as $he hand me two thick blankets, “typically it is, but due to the looming coronation, security has gotten stricter. The King’s Guard has been given multiple duties, and this happens to be one of them.” $His hands linger on mine, and though $he refrains from looking at me, a light blush dots $his cheeks. “But I do hope we can soon.” “I’ll hold you to that,” I say, and $he withdraws allowing the nightly chill to move in and claim the last of the warmth left behind. “That’s a spare room that only guards know about, you can seek solace in there for tonight,” $he begins, pointing to a closed-door next to the open closet. “Again, if you’re questioned, just tell them that I helped you. Goodnight, $name, it was a pleasure.” With a nod, $he turns and heads back into the downpour, stopping at the door to give me one last look before meeting that which rests on the other side of these walls. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Thank you,” I whisper as $he goes from place to place in an attempt to make me feel more comfortable. “It’s nothing at all,” $he tells me, handing me two thick blankets and then points to a closed door, “that’s a spare room that only guards know about, you can seek solace in there for tonight. Again, if you’re questioned, just tell them that I helped you. I must get back to my patrol. Goodnight.” And with nothing more than a nod, $he turns and heads back into the downpour that rests on the other side of these walls. I go into the room and lay down, visited by nothing but darkness. <a data-passage="3.01"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The following morning, I find myself nervously approaching the study of the King. Having been called on by a servant, telling me that His Majesty and the Prince wished to see me. I wring my hands together as I walk, my dream naturally coming to mind, and all of the elements that it brought with it. I stop, gathering my breath before continuing on. If anything, this was just me meeting the Prince, a man that I had never seen and haven’t heard much about. And yet, tomorrow I will be calling him my king. Once at the door, I perform a moderate knock and wait for someone to open the door. “$name!” I hear the King say before I see him. He throws the door open and ushers me inside, closing it quickly behind me as if this was a secret meeting. Sitting comfortably in a large chair was a young man, casually flipping through a book as if it was the most appealing aspect of the beautiful room. “I would like to introduce you to my son, Prince Ingram.” My eyes widen as the Prince looks up at me, shock on his face, as if his father hadn’t just made an entire scene upon bringing me into the room. This was the prince. The boy that was supposed to, in only a day, inherit the crown from his father. He was an average appearing <<link 'Alyrian'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Alyrian'' (All-ree-ean): Believed to have originated initially from either the northern lands of the Forbidden Land or Aardeaon, Alyrians are the only species of Jiwenia that fails to show magical aptitude. What they lack in magic, they make up for with resilience and a remarkable skill set. Alyrians take to most skills like tailoring and blacksmith, efficiently, and due to a natural resistance can work with particular runes and enchantments closely without being harmed. The Alyrians age every year and, on average, live to be about 180 years of age, maturing at the age of twenty. Their skin, eyes, and hair only come in natural shades, but they are diverse when it comes to shapes and sizes. They are also the most compatible species on Jiwenia that can successfully reproduce with any other species and have the strongest gene and DNA pool. Something to note is that most Alyrians loathe the word 'Alyrian' and typically go with the Tawj'jaw translation, which is 'Human.' Why they hate this word is not known. Many Alyrians are not even able to answer said question.<</dialog>><</link>>. No one could fault anyone for mistaking him as a commoner before being introduced. I was literally told I would meet the Prince, and I still thought him a servant. <a data-passage="3.01.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he tells me, standing and almost falling over. He leans on his father’s oak desk, behaving as if he meant to. Once stable, he approaches me, and the two of us exchange an awkward handshake. This had to be a joke. This man could barely carry himself, let alone a kingdom. His frame was so petite that I feared that he had been starving himself. I would be shocked to learn that he had ever picked up a sword, and interested, in case he did, if he did more damage to himself than to his opponent. His thin straight chestnut hair stopped at his shoulders and did little to give his face much-needed definition and fullness. Accompanying that feature were eyes that appeared droopy and black if not under some heavy strain of light. I now held doubt for the future of the kingdom if he was genuinely next in line. Why not just give the Queen the ruling crown? It made much more sense. “As your future king,” he begins, his voice sounding nasally and far from appealing and commanding, “I would be interested in learning how you, as a $species, enjoy Ipharia.” Out of the corner of my eye I see the King bury his face in his hands. “Excuse me?” “No offense meant, of course.” [[“Offense taken.”|3.01OffenseTaken][$care -=2]] [[“I don’t live here.”]] [[Lie: “The people here are rude.”][$honesty -=2]] [[“It’s fine.”|3.01Fine]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> I can’t help the scowl that crosses my face, “offense taken.” The Prince looks taken aback but quickly schools his shock with a grin, “be that it may, I would still like an answer.” “Enough of that,” the King scolds, rolling his eyes at his son before looking at me, “your first night. I hope everything was to your liking, yes?” His real question could barely hide behind the words he spoke. The bed could have been uncomfortable and the room, unaccommodating, he cared not. What he cared to know was if I had any dreams. [[Tell him about the dream.|3.01TellHimDream][$kingKnows = true]] [[Keep the dream to myself.|3.01DreamMyself]]
I clear my throat, reminding myself that though he might not look it, he was to be the future king. “I don’t live here.” And thank the High Gods for that. Of course, all of Nidinia will feel the consequences of a pathetic king, but no place would suffer as much as Ipharia. “That’s even better. First impressions?” “Enough of that,” the King scolds, rolling his eyes at his son before looking at me, “your first night. I hope everything was to your liking, yes?” His real question could barely hide behind the words he spoke. The bed could have been uncomfortable and the room, unaccommodating, he cared not. What he cared to know was if I had any dreams. [[Tell him about the dream.|3.01TellHimDream][$kingKnows = true]] [[Keep the dream to myself.|3.01DreamMyself]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> I huff, “I have met thieves with better dispositions. Everyone here is beyond rude.” “Hmm, I wonder if you being a $species has anything to do with it?” he wonders aloud, truly looking curious. “Enough of that,” the King scolds, rolling his eyes at his son before looking at me, “your first night. I hope everything was to your liking, yes?” His real question could barely hide behind the words he spoke. The bed could have been uncomfortable and the room, unaccommodating, he cared not. What he cared to know was if I had any dreams. [[Tell him about the dream.|3.01TellHimDream][$kingKnows = true]] [[Keep the dream to myself.|3.01DreamMyself]]
I blink, suddenly wishing to be anywhere else, “it’s fine.” The answer is simple, and yet, it seems to make his day. “So, do you feel –,” he starts, but the King’s groan cuts him off. “Enough of that,” the King scolds, rolling his eyes at his son before looking at me, “your first night. I hope everything was to your liking, yes?” His real question could barely hide behind the words he spoke. The bed could have been uncomfortable and the room, unaccommodating, he cared not. What he cared to know was if I had any dreams. [[Tell him about the dream.|3.01TellHimDream][$kingKnows = true]] [[Keep the dream to myself.|3.01DreamMyself]]
“I had a dream,” I say, “regarding the royal family, I believe.” Both of them lean forward, interested in whatever was to leave my mouth next. I recite the dream to them, doing the best I can as I go. As I explain the vision, I also explain what I believe it means. In the end, the Prince is gazing off into space, and the King’s eyes are on me. “Have you told anyone else this?” <<if $gwMaster>>\ My mind immediately races to my master and how I had first gone to him for help, despite the King telling me not to do such a thing. “No,” I lie. I could only pray that he would never learn that I had. Master Audouin would never tell and neither would I, so the secret should be safe. The King seems satisfied in my answer and nods, turning his back to me. <<else>>\ “No,” I say. The King seems satisfied in my answer and nods, turning his back to me. <</if>>\ “Father is the sick one, but who’s the shadow?” the Prince asks, mostly saying it to the room than to his father or me. The King jerks around, glaring at his son before his eyes flit over to me. I was more than sure that I wasn’t to hear such words. But now that I had, everything was making sense, mostly why the King was handing his crown to the boy who couldn’t even keep his mouth shut. “I … I don’t know,” I mutter a response, bowing my head. The air in the room shifts suddenly and the need to be excused escalates. The King approaches me, glaring down at me. “You repeat what was said in this room to anyone, and I can assure you, it will be your last mistake. Understood?” I nod vigorously, overjoyed when he allows me to go and turns his ire onto his son. <a data-passage="3.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Everything was perfect, Your Highness, the castle is splendid.” He nods at my words though he continues to look at me, perhaps trying to figure out if I was truthful or not. “Will you be attending the festival later?” the Prince questions, changing the subject. “Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” “You better not, I will be riding in my father’s stead,” he brags and laughs, “seeing that my father is too sick to even ride a horse anymore.” I see the King’s face light up in fury as he glares at his son, that furious glare then turning on me. I do my best to school any expression on my face. <<if $species is "ecrid">>\ <<nobr>><<set $sicknessKnown = true>><</nobr>> But of course, even with my attempt, my nashi gives me away. I don’t need a mirror to know that my nashi had dimmed down considerably. The King approaches me, towering over me as he stared me down. I wrap my tail around my leg in fear, not knowing if I should meet his gaze or look elsewhere. “You repeat what was said in this room to anyone, and I can assure you, it will be your last mistake. Understood?” I nod vigorously, overjoyed when he allows me to go and turns his ire onto his son. <<elseif $species is "uqanan">>\ <<nobr>><<set $sicknessKnown = true>><</nobr>> Regardless if I school my expression or not, the King’s gaze still bores into mine. He approaches me slowly, and I can tell that our height difference angers him further. He stares up into my eyes, and I feel my primordial instinct roar in wrath. Yet, I quell it the best I can. This was no lion, and I was no hunter. “You repeat what was said in this room to anyone, and I can assure you, it will be your last mistake. Understood?” I nod, overjoyed when he allows me to go and turns his ire onto his son. <<else>>\ The King glares at me for some time. I don’t know what kind of luck I had at that moment, but he seems satisfied that I had learned nothing from the Prince’s words. “I am simply getting older,” he reassures me, “if you would please leave my son and me to speak about some business, it would be appreciated.” I nod, bidding both of them good day as I leave the study. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="3.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
My back hits the bottom of the stairwell as I go through everything that I had just learned. The King was the one who was dying, and the Prince was an idiot. I suppose, at the moment, it felt as if all the secrets of the world had just been dumped on my shoulders when realistically I should’ve seen all this coming. It mattered little. I was here only to say a few reassuring words to the masses, and then my simple life of learning and growing as a witch would continue. [[I yearn for such trivialities.]] [[I would need a break first.|3.02NeedABreak]] [[Hmm, this wasn’t that bad.|3.02NotThatBad]]
I had never thought my training could be described as such, but at the moment, I was happy to belittle it. The most dangerous part of my training was using up too much energy and getting scolded by my master. Or even walking outside and running into a drunken Ansellus who was looking for his next target. This life, how did one live like this and not die early from stress? <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> <<nobr>> <<playlist "ambience" fadeout>> <<audio "fair" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.40>> <</nobr>> The festival begins at midday, opening up to a plethora of people who storm the grounds with excitement and enquiring eyes. The festival grounds rested right outside of the main gates that bordered the capital, next door to the towering mountain range that took over the landscape. For the first few minutes, I stay close to my master, who is busy putting the finishing touches onto the stall that the coordinator allowed him to open up. “Will you be helping me out or seeing what festivities the festival holds?” he asks after a few had come by to check out his wares. “Would you miss the help?” I question, only after I had dealt with the customer before me. I flip the ruho they had given me over in my palm before eyeing my immediate surroundings. The laughter and shouts were coming from deeper in the festival. I could hear the horses whinnying and the announcer calling out things. I would be lying if I said that my curiosity hadn’t peaked yet. “I would make do,” he tells me, relaxing back on his stool, “plus, I have that old mule of ours to keep me company.” I sneer at the memory, thinking about what I should do. //The festival holds a wide selection of games and activities, but you won’t be able to do them all. So, pick wisely.// [[Stay a bit longer and do some readings.|3.02StayReading][$audouin +=1; $ruho +=35; $evidence_cultist = true]] [[Go check out the rest of the festival.|3.02CheckOutFestival]]
My training wasn’t as simple as I was describing. In fact, I would probably need a break from this break once I was done. Going back into my training as soon as this was done was foolish. I would probably hurt myself or my master if I did. I have no doubt that my master would welcome such a break as well, he was already fed up and yearning for one. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The festival begins at midday, opening up to a plethora of people who storm the grounds with excitement and enquiring eyes. The festival grounds rested right outside of the main gates that bordered the capital, next door to the towering mountain range that took over the landscape. For the first few minutes, I stay close to my master, who is busy putting the finishing touches onto the stall that the coordinator allowed him to open up. “Will you be helping me out or seeing what festivities the festival holds?” he asks after a few had come by to check out his wares. “Would you miss the help?” I question, only after I had dealt with the customer before me. I flip the ruho they had given me over in my palm before eyeing my immediate surroundings. The laughter and shouts were coming from deeper in the festival. I could hear the horses whinnying and the announcer calling out things. I would be lying if I said that my curiosity hadn’t peaked yet. “I would make do,” he tells me, relaxing back on his stool, “plus, I have that old mule of ours to keep me company.” I sneer at the memory, thinking about what I should do. //The festival holds a wide selection of games and activities, but you won’t be able to do them all. So, pick wisely.// [[Stay a bit longer and do some readings.|3.02StayReading][$audouin +=1; $ruho +=35; $evidence_cultist = true]] [[Go check out the rest of the festival.|3.02CheckOutFestival]]
Though my heart was still racing, a moment of pondering helped me to realize that it wasn’t out of fear, but excitement. I was the character that knew too much. The character that others sought after, hoping to entice them into giving those secrets away. It would seem that I always held some sort of power, no matter where I went. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The festival begins at midday, opening up to a plethora of people who storm the grounds with excitement and enquiring eyes. The festival grounds rested right outside of the main gates that bordered the capital, next door to the towering mountain range that took over the landscape. For the first few minutes, I stay close to my master, who is busy putting the finishing touches onto the stall that the coordinator allowed him to open up. “Will you be helping me out or seeing what festivities the festival holds?” he asks after a few had come by to check out his wares. “Would you miss the help?” I question, only after I had dealt with the customer before me. I flip the ruho they had given me over in my palm before eyeing my immediate surroundings. The laughter and shouts were coming from deeper in the festival. I could hear the horses whinnying and the announcer calling out things. I would be lying if I said that my curiosity hadn’t peaked yet. “I would make do,” he tells me, relaxing back on his stool, “plus, I have that old mule of ours to keep me company.” I sneer at the memory, thinking about what I should do. //The festival holds a wide selection of games and activities, but you won’t be able to do them all. So, pick wisely.// [[Stay a bit longer and do some readings.|3.02StayReading][$audouin +=1; $ruho +=35; $evidence_cultist = true]] [[Go check out the rest of the festival.|3.02CheckOutFestival]]
I swiftly pick up his deck of cards and shuffle them lazily, “I’ll do a few readings as long as I can keep half of the ruho.” My master scoffs at my words, “you can have all the ruho.” He pauses and looks me up and down, “if you’re really serious about doing tarot readings, then maybe I should make you a deck.” My eyes light up at his words. Any self-respecting witch that dabbled in tarot readings had their own deck. No two decks were the same though all the cards were, the back of the deck was unique for the user. For example, my master had a single black Delilah on his, the beautiful flower tragically wilting. Witches had their own deck due to magic reasons. Decks used by multiple witches held conflicting magic and made it harder to read, a personal deck heightened the connection between wielder and card, making it easier to listen to what they said. “That … that would mean a lot.” Master Audouin nods as he places his attention on another customer. I go ahead and set up the other side for readings, sitting down and waiting for anyone curious, and brave enough, to hear what their future holds. “How much for the reading?” a woman asks, her long jade hair pulled into a messy bun. Her pale skin would suddenly be interrupted by patches of red and a sickly peach color, before transitioning back to its rightful color. She wears a long sleeveless dress that didn’t seem practical for anything more than housework. It was beautiful, in an odd way, odd enough for it to capture my attention at least. <a data-passage="3.02.0"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Five ruho,” I tell her, and she immediately sets the money down, taking a seat on the other side of the table. I place the coin in a box near my feet to get it out of the way, startled when I look up to see her staring at me with a blank expression. She had deep champagne-colored eyes that were elongated at both points. Her pupil was more of a slit, ready to burst, the middle of it reminding me of a pregnant woman’s figure. I found myself unsure of what she was, perhaps a Phaizarn but, that was nothing more than a guess. I hand the deck to her and direct her to focus on them, once she had done that, I shuffle the cards, and then release them onto the table. “Is there a certain number of cards you would like me to choose?” “Three,” she whispers harshly, saying so before I could even finish my sentence. I command the deck to separate into three stacks and then direct her to choose one of the decks. Upon her choice, I push away the others, and then allow my magic to place the cards in the spread it saw fit. They do so, taking on the formation of a triangle with the tip pointing towards the strange woman, the tetraktys spread. <a data-passage="3.02.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Choose one.” She goes for the furthermost point of the triangle. “Page of Cups, in its current position it means that your past was filled with a light heartedness. You were a dreamer, curious about the world, innocent. This is what pushes you.” She says and does nothing, pointing to the next one immediately, this time being the opposite point. The card was The Star, reversed. “The Star,” I begin, “right now, you’re experiencing doubt, and you’re losing your way on a path you previously thought was the one for you.” I see her twitch, her eyes telling a story that I can’t figure out for myself. She picks the tip closest to her. “Four of Cups. The foundation, the one thing that connects everything here. You will have to stop and re-evaluate your decisions. You won’t be satisfied with this act, and you’ll probably be even less satisfied with what you learn after. But be true, you’ll meet redemption.” The whispers of the cards fade as the reading is over, though I don’t think the woman understands that. She stares at the last card before finally, she raises her gaze to me. “What does that mean?” “Excuse me?” “I won’t be satisfied? Is this the right path or not?” she screams the last part, and I wince as others look toward us. “I’m sorry, but that’s what the cards say. They’re only cards, you can change your fate.” Suddenly she leaps towards, grabbing my shirt in a tight embrace as she looks me in the eye. “Don’t lie to me.” Before I can react, she releases me and turns on her heel. “What was that about?” my master asks, straightening my shirt as we both look back to the lady, she was gone, disappeared within the crowd. “Ipharia is filled with crazy people,” I tell him, taking a seat but then spotting an etching on the tip of the table. It’s small, small enough to avoid me noticing it before at least. It was the shape of a triangle with a hole in the middle, and then a smaller hole residing in that one. Before I can think further on it though, another customer sits, a good-natured smile on his face. Hopefully, he was nothing like the last. After giving out a few more readings, I gather all the ruho in one pouch and go out to see what else the festival had to offer. <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I make up my mind to see what the rest of the festival had to offer me, telling my master that I’ll be back later. I walk through the area, my eyes darting from one form of entertainment to the other. The screams and shouts of the patrons causing me to never focus on one person for too long. What should I even do? <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $horseshoes is 0>>\ [[Play horseshoes.][$horseshoes +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $piethefool is 0>>\ [[Pie the Fool.][$piefool +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $armwrestling is 0>>\ [[Arm-wrestling.][$armwrestling +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $bards is 0>>\ [[Go listen to the bards.][$bards +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $banquet is 0>>\ [[Check out the banquet.][$banquet +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $racing is 0>>\ [[Watch the horse racing.][$racing +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $tugofwar is 0>>\ [[Tug-of-war.][$tugofwar +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $archerycomp is 0>>\ [[Archery contest.][$archery +=1]] <</if>>\ <<if $vendors is 0>>\ [[Look at the vendor carts.][$vendors +=1]] <</if>>\
I head towards the area where others are busy playing horseshoes. They genially laugh at those who miss and politely clap for those who make it. Most of them seem to know each other, as they carry on an assortment of conversations while waiting for their turn. I approach, and they gladly welcome me in, gushing over my eyes and the tales that they heard about me. Legends seem to have sprouted about my deeds in the past. One talks of a tale of me saving an entire town with only my dreams aiding me, another how I took down a corrupt bandit leader. Thankfully, they don’t question me about any recent dreams or if I had ever dreamed of them. Such questions were always annoying since individual faces were rare in my dreams unless it was me … missing eyes. “Did you guys happen to see the Prince?” one of them asks, missing his shot. “You call that a Prince?” another guy huffs, “my wife has more hair on her chest.” “That’s because your wife is a man,” another jokes, and the group all share a round of laughter as the man with the hairy wife, mimes as if he’s going to throw his horseshoe at the comedian. “I heard he’s going to increase taxes on us folk,” the first man who had spoken informs, the group going quiet as all eyes fall on him. “And I heard him saying that we choose to be poor,” the hairy chest man says next, earning a round of groans, “he wins no favors here. The King is an idiot, anyone asked will say their love for King Tybalt goes deep. No one has love for the Prince.” “A prince who had barely even spoken to those he will rule over.” I make sure to say nothing, but I do listen. I listen to every complaint they hold, and even to some of the threats that they let their loose lips utter. After a few rounds, I excuse myself, thanking them for the fun. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
My wandering leads me to an area where a man in a fool’s hat has his head stuck in a pillory. The contraption only allowing him to move his head a few degrees. “Have you come to pie the fool?” someone asks, holding out a pie that smelled of shit towards me. I wrinkle my nose and look back at the man who gazes up at me sadly, his face covered with what I believe is excrement. “What is his crime?” “Thievery!” the man yells, just as someone drops two ruho in his open palm and grabs the pie from the other. They run up to the man and mush the pie in his face, egged on by the roaring approval of the small crowd. “It’s only two ruho,” the man supplying the pies smiles at me, it is then that he notices my eyes. “Oh, and if you can’t see him, then we’ll be happy to guide you over.” I roll my eyes. [[Pie the thief.][$ruho -=2]] [[Walk away.|3.02WalkAway]]
“Two ruho, you say?” I ask, already retrieving the coin and dropping it into his hand. He hands me the pie, and I do as the others have done. I throw it right at him, making sure that none of it touches me. Once done, I grab a wet cloth that rests nearby and rid my hands of the deed, walking away. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
“I’d rather not have that on my conscious,” I tell the man, turning on my heel and walking away. Behind me, I hear him continue to yell at those walking past to come and pie the guy. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>
I wander over to a group of tables, each holding a pair. They face off with their elbows on the table, and their hands clasped. A man blows a whistle, and they each begin to try and introduce their opponent’s hand to the table. Most of those who win are strong, but a few that win are actually smaller, perhaps proving that it wasn’t just about strength. “Would you like a go?” a woman asks, “it’s only two ruho, and you can potentially get your money back if you win, plus your competitor’s coin.” [[Sure, let's do it.|3.02SureDoIt][$ruho -=2]] [[I’m fine.|3.02Fine]]
<<if $species is "uqanan">>\ I shrug and nod, handing the coins over as she sits me. More and more people fill the seats, but I find that the seat opposite of mine stays empty. “Is no one brave enough to face the mighty Uqanan?” she questions the crowd, and most of them drop their gazes or murmur about it not being fair. Now that I look everyone over, I realize that many of them were Alyrians and Ecrid, a few Kreol and Kren mixed in here and there. Everyone competing wanted a chance to win their coin back, not going against me was just wise on their parts. “I’ll go up against ?him,” I hear a sprightly voice chirp, looking to see a little boy, no older than ten skipping my way, “you don’t look //that// scary.” The woman that oversees the event looks ready to argue, but I surmise that ruho was ruho, regardless of who handed it towards her. “On your marks, get set, go,” she shouts. The boy puffs his cheeks out, and with all his might attempts to push my hand down. The pressure almost reminds me of the breeze, warning me that a storm was approaching. I felt it, but hardly. [[Let the kid win.][$allforone -=3]] [[Get my ruho back.|3.02GetRuhoBack][$ruho +=4]] <<elseif $species is "kren">>\ <<nobr>><<set $ruho +=4>><</nobr>> I shrug and nod, handing the coins over as she sits me. More and more people fill the seats, but I find that the seat opposite of mine stays empty. I’d like to think I was decently strong, but I was no Uqanan or Alyrian for that matter. I also didn’t believe I looked intimidating, not enough for something so trivial. “Will no one face the blind Kren?” the woman asks. I hear a few murmurs that I had the gods on my side, that I had probably had them even more due to my so-called disability. All of them were assumptions that held no real weight, especially when they could easily be proven false. “Whatever, I’ll face ?him,” a man barks, falling into the seat across from me. He was average-sized, and I could tell by his calloused hands and sunburnt skin that he worked the fields. “And go,” the woman shouted. I could tell that this was more than a test of strength and so, I angle my arm just enough to give me a bit more leverage. The man throws all of his power into winning, shouting and groaning as he pushes, but in the end, he still loses. “Congratulations,” the woman tells me, handing me my coin and his. He walks off grumbling about the god really being on my side, when all that it took to win was a clever grip and a different angle. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I shrug and nod, handing the coins over as she sits me. A young woman who looked to be around my age sat in the seat opposite of me. She was reasonably strong, not enough to cause me to worry, but enough to where she wasn’t going to be a minor inconvenience for the time being. “And go!” the woman yells, and immediately I begin to try and push the woman’s hand down. Both of us grit our teeth as we try to get the upper hand, but neither of us meets success. Our hands merely shake from the pressure, begging for one of us to loosen our grip. Soon, the other competitors finish, and a crowd forms around the table, most of the people cheering for me as I suppose my face was at least one they recognized. [[Let the woman win.]] [[Win this and get my ruho back.|3.02WinGetRuhoBack][$ruho +=4]] <</if>>\
I roll my eyes at my predicament, let it be anyone else, and they would have to win this fair and square. But I saw the boy’s friends in the background, them laughing at him as they guessed his fate. What was two ruho anyway? I make it seem as if I’m trying with all my might but little by little, I stop until he suddenly pushes my hand down. Everyone congratulates the boy, including me, as he celebrates his win. The only ones who don’t praise him and are staring at him with gaping mouths are his friends. With his earnings, he thanks me and skips off. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I roll my eyes, and before I can blink a second time, flex a muscle and end the competition right there. The boy looks shocked by this development. But he shrugs it off and thanks me before running off. The woman grumbles as she approaches, handing me back my coin and his. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I wish to be done with this. And so, I slowly loosen my grip, enough to make it seem like it was accidental and not that I was giving her this win. She smiles victoriously as she slams my hand to the table and jumps to her feet, letting the entire crowd know that they were wrong for their doubt. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
Win the crowd’s cheers bolstering me, I shout and throw all my strength behind my next action. I successfully introduce her hand to the table and collect the ruho that the woman gives me. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
“No, thank you,” I tell her but stick around for a few rounds, watching as the victors come and go. One woman ends up beating three opponents and taking the coin before losing to a man that seems entirely made up of nothing but muscle. Once I get bored, I turn around and go back to looking around. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I head over to a large tent that shelters a small stage and numerous blankets that litter the ground. On top of those blankets sit the citizens of Ipharia, laughing and clapping along to the bards. There are two, appropriately distanced from the other so that their tales do not overlap. I go over to the one who has taken a seat with their lute in hand. They strum it and hum along softly. From the looks of it, this has just begun since no one seems particularly bored yet. “Here’s a tale that I do believe many of you have heard,” they tell, “sing along if you know.” They continue to play, and a few exchange blank looks, though more smile and bob their heads. I knew the tale. It was one that I heard countless times on my journey, The Lament of Darkness. It was a tale about how the High God, <<link 'Darkness'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Darkness is a High God, created by Chaoxian, an unstable element that was created due to Charznos and Orain’s fight. He is the third of three High Gods that govern over Jiwenia. Darkness is most notably known for creating the Cimmerian species, which led to his imprisoning in Kiamet by the Celestial Council.<</dialog>><</link>>, would cry in his prison over the injustices done upon him. But mostly, it was a cry to his love, Moon. The tale was sad, and many lessons could be taken from it. Whether or not one felt sympathy for the god was their own business, yet no one could rightfully say that the sorrowful tune didn’t move them. <<if $singing>>\ I hum the chorus as the bard begins to play it, “he cries, he cries, he cries in great fury. He lies, he lies, in a pit full of snakes. <<link 'Sun'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Sun is one of the three High Gods, created by Charznos and Orain and twin brother to Moon. He is known as the warrior god, strong and full of energy.<</dialog>><</link>>, he did curse him, and Moon did love him, as Darkness fell from high grace.” I open my eyes to light applause, looking to see that those nearby were now staring at me with awestruck eyes. I hadn’t realized, but I had been singing aloud. “Please continue,” one of the young audience members said. I look at the bard who is smiling at me, nodding as they continue playing. “Pluck the gold from bright feathers and offer on one knee, strike yourself and let the crimson liquid free. Offerings to him and he shall appear, to sing of his lament right in your ear. He cries for his love and curses his rival. And swears to all to be ready for his next arrival.” I sing the chorus again and allow the song to come to an end, thanking those who clap and bestow upon me their compliments. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ No one sings along, whether because they didn’t know the words well enough or fearful of other’s hearing their voice. The bard doesn’t seem to mind much, and probably isn’t surprised. They continue to strum, bringing the song to an end and welcoming the round of applause that follows. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\ <</if>>\
I head to the banquet tent, allowing my nose to guide me more than my sight. The spread is mostly peasant food, which I’m not surprised at in the least. And which probably is why I see no one here of noble birth. There is a table full of fruit and vegetables, another with bread, meat, and cheese, the third has pastries that seem a bit dull. And the last hold drinks, which I’m sure each mug holds some kind of ale or rum element. I grab a plate and immediately begin to pile it high, my ears perking up at a conversation nearby. “Another one?” the woman questions incredulously, “that’s the fifth this season alone.” “Isn’t it. The King continues to act as if they are mere dissidents, but many believe they are something more. Who else would attack a royal caravan?” “The King should truly be worried, I heard that the rebel leader’s popularity is growing, especially amongst the common folk. It seems as if this was planned spectacularly since the Prince is about to be crowned.” The woman speaking continues on, my thoughts elsewhere. I keep hearing more and more about this rebellion, but it would seem like no one here actually knew anything more than rumors. That could be due to this being the capital; only those who needed to know did. But that didn’t stop my curiosity. I wished to learn more about this rebellion and what was sparking it, who was behind it, and why. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I follow the sound of whinnying horses and join a crowd of spectators. Further out in the fields are five horses, each showing their discontent with staying idle for too long. I watch as the majestic creatures toss their manes and pound their hoof down onto the earth, they were ready to go. “Bets, anyone else with bets?” a man with a basket of pouches asks, “ten ruho to enter but who knows how much you’ll walk away with.” I consider doing so, tapping my chin as I look from the horses to the man. [[Bet.|3.02Bet][$ruho -=10]] [[Just watch.|3.02JustWatch]]
<<if $knowledge>>\ <<nobr>><<set $ruho +=50>><</nobr>> I look the five horses over, immediately canceling two of them out. Their size and weight would work against them in a race of speed. The third horse that I discount was smaller, but it wasn’t small in a powerful sense. The last two, now these two were going to be the frontrunners, the horses that anyone smart enough would bet on. I continue looking them over, doing my best to compare the two before finally putting my ruho on the chestnut gelding with the star on his forehead. <a data-passage="HR1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ I look the five horses over. The palomino was the smallest in size and was one of the only ones not making a racket. The filly stood quietly, waiting for instructions from her rider. The two beside her, both who I believe to be stallions were the rowdiest. They were mighty in size, and their energy was off the charts, both ready to go. The black stallion looks stronger than the bay stallion beside him. The last two were close in size as well, both medium-sized and their tempers more docile than the stallions, but still feisty compared to the palomino. The dappled filly was a few hands taller than the chestnut gelding who seemed healthy and ready to go. [[Bet on the palomino.|HR1]] [[Bet on the dappled filly.|HR1]] [[Bet on the black stallion.|HR1]] [[Bet on the chestnut gelding.|HR1][$ruho +=50]] [[Bet on the bay stallion.|HR1]] <</if>>\
I put my ruho on the horse and take a seat, ready to see if I had chosen wisely. “All bets collected?” the man questions before giving the man at the starting line a nod. The races were to begin. The crowd grows quiet, other than some idle chatter here and there. The announcer starts, all eyes focused on the horses who stand ready. A bell goes off, and all five horses shoot forward, racing down the length of the fielded track. The black stallion leads most of the way with the chestnut gelding right behind him, the bay stallion beside him, and the palomino in the back. I hold my breath as the finish line nears. The palomino begins to pick up speed, passing the dappled filly and now running alongside the bay stallion. The black stallion, though his speed seems to not have shifted, is now being overtaken by the chestnut gelding. Soon, the black stallion falls into third with the bay and dappled gaining on the chestnut. The finish line is right there! Suddenly, the chestnut pulls forward, leaving the other horses in the dust as he separates himself from them. He wins, and everyone who placed their faith and ruho in him celebrates! <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I opt to just watch the race, at least I wouldn’t lose any money from that. I look the five horses over. The palomino was the smallest in size and was one of the only ones not making a racket. The filly stood quietly, waiting for instructions from her rider. The two beside her, both who I believe to be stallions were the rowdiest. They were mighty in size, and their energy was off the charts, both ready to go. The black stallion looked stronger than the bay stallion beside him. The last two were close in size as well, both medium-sized and their tempers more docile than the stallions, but still feisty compared to the palomino. The dappled filly was a few hands taller than the chestnut gelding who seemed healthy and ready to go. I guess that the winner would be … [[The palomino.|HR2]] [[The dappled filly.|HR2]] [[The black stallion.|HR2]] [[The chestnut gelding.|HR2]] [[The bay stallion.|HR2]]
“All bets collected?” the man questions before giving the man at the starting line a nod. The races were to begin. The crowd grows quiet, other than some idle chatter here and there. The announcer starts, all eyes focused on the horses who stand ready. A bell goes off, and all five horses shoot forward, racing down the length of the fielded track. The black stallion leads most of the way with the chestnut gelding right behind him, the bay stallion beside him, and the palomino in the back. I hold my breath as the finish line nears. The palomino begins to pick up speed, passing the dappled filly and now running alongside the bay stallion. The black stallion, though his speed seems to not have shifted, is now being overtaken by the chestnut gelding. Soon, the black stallion falls into third with the bay and dappled gaining on the chestnut. The finish line is right there! Suddenly, the chestnut pulls forward, leaving the other horses in the dust as he separates himself from them. He wins, and everyone who placed their faith and ruho in him celebrates! <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
I allow the loud shouts to pull me off of my path and wander to a large area set aside for something. A large puddle of water rests in the middle, though that water has been contaminated with dirt and was now beginning to shift in color. Directly in the center of the puddle is a long-knotted rope, stretching from one side of the puddle to the other. On both sides stand a mix of people, four on each side thus far. “Hey!” someone shouts at me, and I look to see that one of the men is pointing at me, “are you in?” “In?” “Are you playing or watching?” “Is it even safe for someone blind to play?” the woman on the other side asks, and they all look back at me. I hear some whisper my name and title, quickly changing the minds of both so-called leaders. [[Play tug-of-war.]] [[Just watch them.|3.02TWWatch]]
“I’ll play,” I shrug. <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ Though I’m not surprised, both sides begin to argue about who gets to choose me. It wasn’t every day that a Uqanan came to join in, I’m sure. Finally, the left side wins, and I join them, stationing myself at the back. After the teams are chosen, the referee comes out and shouts the instructions. It would seem that the goal was to not end up in the puddle. We were to pull on the rope and try to pull the other side into the puddle. Simple enough. When the referee shouts to go, I plant one foot behind me and with all my strength, yank on the rope. Much to my amazement, the rope is happy to come, and those on the other side all end up meeting the puddle swiftly. I was sure that the game should have been harder than that, but I suppose I had only imagined that. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\ <<else>>\ I’m sent to the right side and station myself in the middle alongside a few others. After the teams are chosen, the referee comes out and shouts the instructions. It would seem that the goal was to not end up in the puddle. We were to pull on the rope and try to pull the other side into the puddle. Simple enough. When the referee shouts to go, I plant one foot behind me and dig into the ground with the other. I focus all my strength on pulling, realizing that this would be harder than I previously surmised. What feels like an hour and multiple muscle groans later, my side wins. I can hardly celebrate as I drop the rope and stretch my moaning limbs. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\ <</if>>\
“I’d rather watch,” I tell them and make my way towards a small crowd that was sitting on the grass. They continue picking people until both sides were full. The referee shouts out instructions. This game was a test of strength, the team that successfully pulled the other side into the puddle, won. When the game begins, I watch as the knot that hovers over the puddle is yanked right and left before stopping. Soon, it begins to move only to the right, slowly creeping to the side when suddenly the left seems to completely give up and those in front fall into the puddle. Everyone applauds the right as they win, and many of those who lost simply laugh it off. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<nobr>> <<set $archery = true>> <</nobr>> <<notify>>Archery Talent Discovered.<</notify>> I knew that with a little looking, I would find one – an archery contest. At the moment, five other contestants were currently going. Their aim was off, and not one of them had yet to hit the bullseye. However, keeping the competition part in mind, they all seemed like they were equally matched with the other. “Would you like to try … oh, my apologies. I didn’t know you were blind,” a woman says, blushing as she backed away. “It is quite alright. My ailment is not what it may seem. I would like to participate.” The woman’s jaw drops, and she soon tries to hide her excitement, “you’re the $species that can see the future in your dreams. The Dream Seer! It is such a pleasure to meet someone as reputable as you.” “I’m honored,” I laugh humbly, graciously accepting the bow that she hands me. I wait until the five finish up before I head to the line that she points me towards. Four other opponents join me, and we ready our arrows. In no way was I a professional at this. I learned a few tips here and there though I would never go up to a true professional and challenge them. When we begin, I pull back, aim, and let the arrow loose. Only to be surprised when the arrow lands mere inches from the bullseye. My other competitors freeze, their eyes going from the arrow’s resting place to me with mouths open. Well … it would seem that I was better at this than I initially perceived. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>> <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
//There will be times where you can buy items from vendors. Clicking an item will give you a detailed explanation as well as the classification, effect(s), restrictions or requirements, and cost.// <img src="images/divider.png"> I walk down the path that leads through the vendor carts, glancing from one cart to the next. I had $ruho ruho on me, and due to not knowing how much these merchants usually sold their wares for, I might or might not be able to get anything. For the moment, I push that thought away and continue to browse and allow the merchants to entice me closer with their shouts and false assurances. One merchant, in particular, catches my attention, selling a few [[trinkets and charms]]. Further down, I come across a Kreol woman who is [[selling scrolls]], most of them magical though a few have to do with runes. And lastly, an Alyrian man with an [[impressive group of tools]]. By the time I’m done browsing, I have a few possibilities before me. Or I could just [[leave|vendor2]], deciding not to grab anything and move on to enjoy the rest of the festival.
<<if $ludanispendant>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'ludanis pendant'>><</if>>\ <<if $moonpendant>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'moon pendant'>><</if>>\ “Finest charms you’ll find anywhere,” he boasts, though I doubt his words. Perhaps if I did not work with a merchant as well, then I would fall easily into this trap, but I did, and Master Audouin had done a marvelous job of preparing me for such tactics. The merchant allows me to touch and look the items over, and I finally stop. The only things of any use were the religious pendants, one <<link 'pendant was for Ludanis'>><<dialog 'Inventory Info'>><img src="images/inventory_acc.png" alt="Accessory" height="221px" width="200" style="float:left"/>''Description'': A pendant crafted to show reverence to the God of Magic, Ludanis. The pendant has a strange arcane like symbol on it with glowing orbs around it. ''Classification'': Accessory ''Effect'': +20 Energy ''Cost'': 20 ruho<</dialog>><</link>>, and the other <<link 'pendant was for Moon'>><<dialog 'Inventory Info'>><img src="images/inventory_acc.png" alt="Accessory" height="221px" width="200" style="float:left"/>''Description'': a pendant crafted to show reverence to the High God Moon. The pendant is circular with the moon sitting on it. ''Classification'': Accessory ''Effect'': +5 Devotion ''Cost'': 20 ruho<</dialog>><</link>>. <<if $ludanispendant is false and $ruho >=20>>\ [[Buy the Ludanis pendant.|trinkets and charms][$ludanispendant = true; $energy +20; $ruho -=20]] <</if>>\ <<if $moonpendant is false and $ruho >=20>>\ [[Buy the Moon pendant.|trinkets and charms][$moonpendant = true; $pious +=5; $ruho -=20]] <</if>>\ [[Don't buy any items.|vendor1.5]]
“Welcome,” the Kreol lady greets, "see anything you like?" I begin to peruse, noting that many of the scrolls were basic spells that I've known for quite some time. She did have one scroll in her possession whose spell I haven't learned, a <<link 'trap scroll'>><<dialog 'Inventory Info'>><img src="images/inventory_scroll.png" alt="Scroll" height="221px" width="200" style="float:left"/>''Description'': a scroll that details an ice trap spell. This spell will allow the magic user to set down a trap that will freeze any who walk over it. ''Classification'': Spell ''Effect'': Freezes any who activate it. ''Cost'': 100 ruho<</dialog>><</link>>. <<if $trapspell is false and $ruho >=100>>\ [[Grab the parchment detailing how to perform a trap spell. Costs 100 ruho.|selling scrolls][$spell_FrostTrap; $trapspell = true; $ruho -=100]] <</if>>\ [[Don't buy any items.|vendor1.5]]
<<if $lockpick>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'lockpick set'>><</if>>\ I return to the Alyrian and he welcomes me with a large smile, "carpenter or blacksmith? I have the best tools, whether you're inexperienced or a veteran of the craft." I don't tell him that I am neither as I browse, but I do notice that nothing he had would be helpful. Well, besides the <<link 'lockpick set'>><<dialog 'Inventory Info'>><img src="images/inventory_misc.png" alt="Scroll" height="276px" width="150" style="float:left"/>''Description'': a lockpicking set that requires at least 10 Covertness to be used. //Allows the individual to open locked chests.// ''Classification'': Misc ''Effect'': Unlocks otherwise locked items. ''Cost'': 20 ruho<</dialog>><</link>> he has. <<if $lockpick is false and $ruho >=20>> [[Buy the lockpicks. Costs 20 ruho.|impressive group of tools][$lockpick = true; $ruho -=20]] <</if>>\ [[Don't buy any items.|vendor1.5]]
I return to the main area and check my ruho, I had $ruho ruho on me, and due to not knowing how much these merchants usually sold their wares for, I might or might not be able to get anything. I could continue to browse checking out the [[trinkets and charms]] vendor cart or the Kreol woman [[selling scrolls]], and lastly the Alyrian man with an [[impressive group of tools]]. Or I could just [[leave|vendor2]], deciding not to grab anything and move on to enjoy the rest of the festival.
I decide to leave and head back to the main festival area. <<if $break is 0>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<elseif $break is 1>>\ <a data-passage="jousting"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <<else>>\ <a data-passage="festivalend"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a> <</if>>\
<<nobr>><<set $break +=1; $fame +=5>><</nobr>> As I walk around, I notice a group of people surrounding something in the distance. I allow my feet and curiosity to guide me over, only to see that they were all fawning over the King and Prince who were currently playing a game of colf. <<if $smug >=50>>\ “Ah, $name,” the King greets, everyone quieting as they turn to me. I hear some of them whisper about my gifts, and others talk about how dashing I currently looked. I smirk at the compliments and produce a smile for those onlooking. A few shiver and melt, whispering to those beside them as if they hadn’t seen the smile. <<else>>\ “Ah, $name,” the King greets, everyone quieting as they turn to me. I hear some of them whisper about my gifts, and others talk about how dashing I currently looked. It was all things that I had heard before and simply came with the territory of being known. <</if>>\ “Your Highness, is there something you wanted?” “I would ask that you tell this one that you tell my son you forsee him losing but will settle on you joining my team for a friendly round of colf,” he says with a good-natured smile. All signs of what happened earlier in the day and the threat that he had voiced, gone. The Prince clears his throat, “I do believe that $name deserves to play with me. Look at this as your present for my coronation father.” [[Join the Prince.]] [[Join the King.][$colfKing = true]]
“I shall join Prince Ingram,” I tell the King who rolls his eyes but shrugs, picking one of his advisors to join. “Are we winning?” I ask as a nearby servant hands me a club. “I would not know, the slave boy there is keeping tally,” the Prince says, and I look to see a small boy alongside the servant, his eyes never straying from the game. “My father takes forever on these things, which means I have time to question you.” If his question was anything like the one he had asked me earlier, then I rather stay quiet. I was struggling to see how he was fit to wear the crown; I didn’t wish for an already low opinion to get even lower. “How have your experiences in Nidinia been?” “My Prince?” <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ “Your experience as a Uqanan in Nidinia I mean. You haven’t been called, boar-face or tamed?” My back stiffens as I look down at the man that everyone one day expected me to bow down too. The real question was if he meant his words genuinely, merely curious about my experiences, or if he was just finding a way to insult me. Boar-face was obvious, an insult that I’ve heard every now and then, but it’s rare to come across such disgusting views in Nidinia, the land of the diverse. Tamed, well I’ve heard of it but never directed at me. Tamed was used for those who had to file down their tusks for health reasons. It mostly meant that one was weak in the eyes of the Uqanan. <<elseif $species is "cimmerian">>\ “Your experience as a Cimmerian in Nidinia I mean. You haven’t been called, a slitter or murker, have you?” My back stiffens as I look over at the man that everyone one day expected me to bow down too. The real question was if he meant his words genuinely, merely curious about my experiences, or if he was just finding a way to insult me. Slitter wasn’t used solely against Cimmerians but anyone who had slits instead of round pupils. It was an insult that I’ve heard every now and then, but it’s rare to come across such disgusting views in Nidinia, the land of the diverse. Murker, well that one //was// Cimmerian-oriented, but seeing that I had never heard it used against me, I had trouble understanding its origins and purpose. <<elseif $species is "kren">>\ “Your experience as a Kren in Nidinia I mean. You haven’t been called, twigard or God’s shit?” My back stiffens as I look over at the man that everyone one day expected me to bow down too. The real question was if he meant his words genuinely, merely curious about my experiences, or if he was just finding a way to insult me. God’s shit was obvious, an insult that I’ve heard only once by a drunken fool, as such disgusting views in rare to come by in Nidinia, the land of the diverse. Twigard, I’ve heard of the insult but had never been called it. I supposed it would have something to do with Kren being of the trees and such. <<else>>\ “Your experience as an Ecrid in Nidinia I mean. You haven’t been called, quink, have you?” My back stiffens, and my nashi dims as I look over at the man that everyone one day expected me to bow down too. The real question was if he meant his words genuinely, merely curious about my experiences, or if he was just finding a way to insult me. Quink had a history to it, once only used by farmers who had castrated male goats and pigs. They weren’t fat enough to be eaten and were too hard to sell, and so the farmers named them ‘quink’ meaning too useless to even kill. I personally have never been called one since such disgusting views was rare to come by in Nidinia, the land of the diverse. <</if>>\ [[“How about we change the subject?”]] [[“Are you trying to insult me?”]] [[“Nidinia is welcoming.”]] [[“My experience has been fine, has yours?”]]
I clear my throat and nod at the ball, “how about we change the subject?” The Prince laughs humorously, “I was simply curious. I did not mean to offend.” “And yet, you did.” I would love to add in that if I had called him Alyrian, followed by ‘but I meant no offense,’ wouldn’t make his want to see me beheaded any less great. Not to mention that this was the second time he has said something offensive. But I keep quiet. My attention on the game. In the end, the Prince and I lose the game. The awkward air that surrounds the two of us evident to all those who look at us. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I bite the inside of my cheek as I look at the stationary ball, “are you trying to insult me, My Prince?” “Of course not,” he laughs humorously, “I was simply curious and thought you were someone I could ask. I didn’t mean to offend.” “And yet, you did.” I would love to add in that if I had called him Alyrian, followed by ‘but I meant no offense,’ wouldn’t make his want to see me beheaded any less great. Not to mention that this was the second time he has said something offensive. But I keep quiet. My attention on the game. In the end, the Prince and I lose the game. The awkward air that surrounds the two of us evident to all those who look at us. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I glare at him before calming my face and regarding him with a blank expression, “no one who has said it to my face has ever lived to tell the tale.” I keep my face neutral, daring him to say anything more. But I suppose, when you’re the prince, you believe even fear should fear you. He laughs humorously, waving my words and look away with a simple gesture, “I meant no offense, $name.” “And yet, you did.” I would love to add in that if I had called him Alyrian, followed by ‘but I meant no offense,’ wouldn’t make his want to see me beheaded any less great. Not to mention that this was the second time he has said something offensive. But I keep quiet. My attention on the game. In the end, the Prince and I lose the game. The awkward air that surrounds the two of us evident to all those who look at us. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I swallow the lump that had formed in my throat, clearing my throat before answering, “Nidinia is welcoming.” It was a simple response that I hoped would end the conversation. “Are you offended, my friend? I didn’t mean to offend if so.” “And yet, you did.” I would love to add in that if I had called him Alyrian, followed by ‘but I meant no offense,’ wouldn’t make his want to see me beheaded any less great. Not to mention that this was the second time he has said something offensive. But I keep quiet. My attention on the game. In the end, the Prince and I lose the game. The awkward air that surrounds the two of us evident to all those who look at us. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“My experience has been fine,” I begin, feeling my anarchic nature flare-up, wishing to deal out the kind of swift justice that it adored so, “has yours?” There’s no need for me to finish my sentence, wrapping the question in a blanket of concern. The Prince suddenly stiffens, and with the reaction I wished for, received, I clear my throat and stand proudly. “Hurting your feelings was not my goal, I didn’t mean to offend.” “And yet, you did.” I would love to add in that if I had called him Alyrian, followed by ‘but I meant no offense,’ wouldn’t make his want to see me beheaded any less great. Not to mention that this was the second time he has said something offensive. But I keep quiet. My attention on the game. In the end, the Prince and I lose the game. The awkward air that surrounds the two of us evident to all those who look at us. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“I would be honored to join your team,” I tell the King who claps loudly before shooting a sly grin at his fuming son. The Prince huffs before recruiting one of the lingering advisors to his team. A servant hands me a club, and I approach the tiny ball that sits before the King, a few yards away rests a hole. “You ever played colf before, $name?” “No, I haven’t had the luxury.” “Ah, you aren’t missing out on much,” he laughs, “it is amusing at times, I will admit that much. But in my opinion,” he looks from the ball to the hole, then back to the ball. Finally, he hits it. “There’s way too much thinking involved.” The ball soars through the sky, finally landing right beside the hole, it teeters ever so slightly as everyone holds their breath. [[Help the ball out.|3.02HelpBall]] [[Leave the ball be.|3.02LeaveBall]]
With my finger, I summon the object to move slightly to the right, watching as it falls into the hole and a round of polite applause is heard behind us. I also hear the grumbling of the Prince. “Thank you,” the King smiles, clearing his throat as he looks at my ball. <<if $sicknessKnown>>\ “If I may be so bold,” I begin, biting the inside of my cheek as I think about the words that I plan to utter, “it concerns your ailment, sir.” The King stiffens but does nothing else, which is far better than what I had pictured him doing. “Speak vaguely, those who surround me have better ears than those of my hunting dogs.” “Has the servant in question sought out a magical solution?” The King looks at me for a minute before back at his son who, for some reason, believes it necessary to get on the same level as the ball to successfully hit it. “The servant’s family has tried everything, magic, medicine, prayer. It seems that the servant is simply doomed, the fight has fled from his bones.” “Give the servant my respects.” “Will do. Boy!” he suddenly shouts, his son jumping back up to his feet, “would you just hit the blasted ball?” <<else>>\ At first, we stand there quietly, the King only asking me questions about the festival and if I was enjoying it. Our attention is truly only on the Prince who believes it necessary to get on the same level as the ball to successfully hits it. I can see the irritation inch its way on the King’s face before he finally huffs. “Boy!” he bellows, causing his son to jump back up to his feet, “would you just hit the blasted ball?” <</if>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I doesn’t mess with it, watching as it finally stops teetering. Those behind us mumble, and the King lazily rolls his eyes as he clears his throat, looking at me and then at the ball that sits at my feet. I hit the ball, getting it a few inches away from the appropriate hole. <<if $sicknessKnown>>\ “If I may be so bold,” I begin, biting the inside of my cheek as I think about the words that I plan to utter, “it concerns your ailment, sir.” The King stiffens but does nothing else, which is far better than what I had pictured him doing. “Speak vaguely, those who surround me have better ears than those of my hunting dogs.” “Has the servant in question sought out a magical solution?” The King looks at me for a minute before back at his son who, for some reason, believes it necessary to get on the same level as the ball to successfully hit it. “The servant’s family has tried everything, magic, medicine, prayer. It seems that the servant is simply doomed, the fight has fled from his bones.” “Give the servant my respects.” “Will do. Boy!” he suddenly shouts, his son jumping back up to his feet, “would you just hit the blasted ball?” <<else>>\ At first, we stand there quietly, the King only asking me questions about the festival and if I was enjoying it. Our attention is truly only on the Prince who believes it necessary to get on the same level as the ball to successfully hits it. I can see the irritation inch its way on the King’s face before he finally huffs. “Boy!” he bellows, causing his son to jump back up to his feet, “would you just hit the blasted ball?” <</if>>\ <a data-passage="kingprince1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I watch as he does as he was commanded, rolling my eyes at the fact that, after that entire spectacle, he still doesn’t get close to the hole. “Humor me, $name,” the King begins, grabbing my attention as we walk towards the balls. I notice that he’s distancing us from the others as we go. “What do you think of my son leading the kingdom? Give me your honest opinion, I will not be angered by anything you say.” [[“He has a lot to learn.”][$negPrinceVibes = true]] [[“I think the kingdom is doomed.”][$negPrinceVibes = true]] [[“He … will be an interesting king.”]] <<if $horseshoes is 1>>\ [[“The people have no love for him.”]] <</if>>\
“I think he has a lot to learn, Your Majesty, before he’s truly ready to take over anything.” “To learn what? Etiquette? Courtly duties?” I raise a brow, glancing back at the Prince and then the King, “just a lot.” Whether this was something the King wanted to hear or not, I know not. He only nods and puts his attention back on the game. In the end, the King and I win easily, and this was with me barely knowing how to even play. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With a straight face, and his previous words running through my head, I say, “I think the kingdom is doomed if your son it to rule.” “Such brave words, even if I had said that I would feel no anger at whatever you say.” “I have learned to trust what you say, My King. If you say that you will feel no ill will towards me, then I believe you.” “And if Ingram had said the same?” It was an interesting question; would I truly trust his word? I stay silent, and the King doesn’t seem bothered by his unanswered question. We both set our attention back on the game. In the end, the King and I win easily, and this was with me barely knowing how to even play. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“He …” I begin, attempting to come up with the right words, “he will be an interesting king, I believe.” “Ah, never heard of a king earning the moniker of intriguing or provocative.” “The wisest men always say that everything happens at least once.” The King huffs in response, placing his attention back on the game. In the end, the King and I win easily, and this was with me barely knowing how to even play. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
My next words were dangerous to utter, but I believe the King truly wished to hear what I thought. In a way, this wasn’t what I thought as much as it was his people, but I was no less curious as to how he would feel about the thoughts of his own. “The people have no love for him. They whisper about what he will do and how it will bring them unneeded strife.” He turns to me with a raised brow, “you heard that from them?” “Indeed. I said nothing, but I listened to their conversation, I doubt they are the only ones who feel such a way.” “I doubt as well,” he mumbles and then sighs as we both place our attention back on the game. In the end, the King and I win easily, and this was with me barely knowing how to even play. I thank the two of them before I leave, wanting to put space between the royal family and me for the sake of my health, and ears. The rest of the festival awaits. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>><<set $break +=1>><</nobr>> A loud horn sounds off overhead, and I watch as the majority of people that surround me, drop what they’re doing and run in one specific direction. Amused by this herd mentality, I follow at my own pace, catching the forlorn looks that some of the vendor owners have as they watch the crowds go. As I make my way over, a figure moving in the opposite direction accidentally bumps into me. My gray drowning eyes meeting that of the arctic blue of Averill’s. “$name! How are you?” $he asks, resituating the helmet in $his hands, “enjoying the festival, I hope.” “I am. What is this for?” I ask, pointing my thumb back at the crowd that continues to move in one direction. “The jousting competition, it is a favorite of many.” “I surmise that you’re competing?” “I am, the King’s champion.” I’m shocked at $his words but still utter congratulations. If $he was the champion, did that mean the Prince had also chosen someone in his stead? I would be interested in seeing who won, a thought process I’m sure I shared with many others. “I regret that I cannot speak with you longer. But I do hope you enjoy the rest of the festival, and the competition if you do decide to watch it.” [[Wish Averill luck.][$averill +=3; $allforone +=2]] [[Continue on.|joustingAverill][$allforone -=2]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> “Good luck to you, Averill,” I say, and Averill throws me a cocky grin over $his shoulder. <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “I have no fears now that I have your luck and favor on my side,” $he pauses and turns to me, “a thought. Later there will be a viewing for the eclipse tonight. Would you mind blessing me with your presence?” Before I can remark, a few rowdy guards grab Averill and pull $him away. “Find me near the field,” I think I hear $him shout, but yet, that could have easily been my imagination. <<else>>\ “I have no fears now that I have your luck and favor on my side.” I smirk as $he disappears and I head towards the stands, hoping to find a seat. <</if>>\ “$name,” I hear someone shout and turn to see the Lord of Akrisos approaching with his small entourage, “it feels like it’s been forever since we saw the esteemed guest of the King.” Regardless of the smile that lightens his features, his tone held nothing but bitterness. It would be unwise of me to believe that they weren’t envious of my invitation and that though I hold no noble blood, was being treated even better than them. “It is good to see you, My Lord. Are you enjoying the festivities?” “Yes, I so enjoy walking around a piss stained ground and rubbing elbows with those below me,” he laughs, “but have you learned anything interesting seeing that you are among the nobility at every turn?” So he was looking for information so that he could continue playing the game that the nobles so loved. [[Tell him some gossip.]] [[Excuse myself.]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ I prepare to continue on when I spot Averill stop and gaze at me. “A thought. Later there will be a viewing for the eclipse tonight. Would you mind blessing me with your presence?” Before I can remark, a few rowdy guards grab Averill and pull $him away. “Find me near the field,” I think I hear $him shout, but yet, that could have easily been my imagination. <<else>>\ I continue on, hoping to find a seat before the stands became totally full. <</if>>\ “$name,” I hear someone shout and turn to see the Lord of Akrisos approaching with his small entourage, “it feels like it’s been forever since we saw the esteemed guest of the King.” Regardless of the smile that lightens his features, his tone held nothing but bitterness. It would be unwise of me to believe that they weren’t envious of my invitation and that though I hold no noble blood, was being treated even better than them. “It is good to see you, My Lord. Are you enjoying the festivities?” “Yes, I so enjoy walking around a piss stained ground and rubbing elbows with those below me,” he laughs, “but have you learned anything interesting seeing that you are among the nobility at every turn?” So he was looking for information so that he could continue playing the game that the nobles so loved. [[Tell him some gossip.]] [[Excuse myself.][$lordAnger = true]]
“The Lady of Minao is allergic to shellfish and wishes to change the main export of her city,” I tell him, trying to think of anything else, “the Lord of some town past the Deserted Hills has an illegitimate child who is trying to worm his way into overthrowing the Lord and becoming the heir.” That was the most I had heard, seeing that I wasn’t playing this game, and therefore didn’t care. The Lord seems happy enough, clapping his hands in excitement and thanking me profusely for the information as a servant runs up to me. “Dream Seer, are you looking to watch the competition?” “I am.” “The King then requests your presence on the balcony. All esteemed guests have a spot there.” Who was I to argue about having the best seats? I allow the servant to walk me to the balcony before dismissing himself. I take a seat between a nobleman and an advisor that I have not yet learned the names of. I begin to get situated when I feel the glare of someone, turning to see the Queen staring at me. [[“Your Highness, so good to see you.”][$queen +=1]] [[“Can I help you?”]]
“I have nothing, unfortunately. But I would like to grab a seat to the competition. If you will excuse me,” I tell him, even more thankful when a servant runs up to me and gives me a proper out of the conversation. I feel his glare on my back as I retreat a few steps away, my attention now on the servant. “Dream Seer, are you looking to watch the competition?” “I am.” “The King then requests your presence on the balcony. All esteemed guests have a spot there.” Who was I to argue about having the best seats? I allow the servant to walk me to the balcony before dismissing himself. I take a seat between a nobleman and an advisor that I have not yet learned the names of. I begin to get situated when I feel the glare of someone, turning to see the Queen staring at me. [[“Your Highness, so good to see you.”][$queen +=1]] [[“Can I help you?”]]
“Your Highness,” I say in a cheerful manner, “it is so good to see you again. You’re looking quite lovely today.” “I wish I could say that I’m as happy to see you, as you, me.” I nod my head respectively and then turn back around in my seat. I wouldn’t let her sour mood affect my day, especially when I wasn’t sure why she seemed to dislike me so. Whereas some here watching were full of pride, I couldn’t help but see nothing but stupidity on the back of mighty horses, riding back and forth trying to silently prove that they were better, and for what? To soon ride out under the banner of a kingdom to risk one’s life on ideals that they might not agree with. I simply watch, gazing on as the newest riders slip up or get de-seated by their competitor. I only find it interesting when Averill shows $himself, leaning forward along with the Prince and the King. “Ready for your dear guard to meet $his doom, father?” the Prince questions and the King huffs. “Do not let pride blind you. Averill has served me well for many years. While your rider still seems confused on how to put on their armor.” “Foolish men and their foolish games,” I hear Queen Isa mumble. [[Question the queen.][$queen +=1]] [[Leave her be.]]
“Can I help you?” I question. “Watching your tone would be the first thing,” she snorts, “you forget that you are still addressing a queen.” “How does the last day of being Queen feel?” I question, cocking my head to the side as if truly curious. “I would rather end it on a good note. Not by sentencing the servants to cut out your foul tongue.” I snort and turn back around in my seat, placing my attention on the jousting competition that has already begun. Whereas some here watching were full of pride, I couldn’t help but see nothing but stupidity on the back of mighty horses, riding back and forth trying to silently prove that they were better, and for what? To soon ride out under the banner of a kingdom to risk one’s life on ideals that they might not agree with. I simply watch, gazing on as the newest riders slip up or get de-seated by their competitor. I only find it interesting when Averill shows $himself, leaning forward along with the Prince and the King. “Ready for your dear guard to meet $his doom, father?” the Prince questions and the King huffs. “Do not let pride blind you. Averill has served me well for many years. While your rider still seems confused on how to put on their armor.” “Foolish men and their foolish games,” I hear Queen Isa mumble. [[Question the queen.][$queen +=1]] [[Leave her be.]]
I turn my attention to the Queen, “you do not share in the sentiment I see.” She regards me for a moment before sighing and rolling her eyes at the two, “I do not. This … sport is foolish. Not dangerous enough to appeal to those filled with bloodlust and to truly test the mettle of a soldier, and yet dangerous enough to cause harm to another and to make daintier audience members gasp.” “Which would you rather?” “Neither,” she growls, though her anger, for now, wasn’t projected at me, “there are far more things that we should concern ourselves with.” She glances at me and huffs, “but I relent. If I must watch anything, then I’d rather watch dressage or some other show of grace. Blame it on a fragile heart if you wish, but brutality is everywhere, beauty is not.” Somehow, I feel like I learned something about her, but yet nothing at all. I leave her to it, my attention back on the readying jousters. <<include "Leave her be.">>
The Prince and King continue smack-talking each other’s riders, only stopping when Averill shows all those watching that $he was the King’s champion for a reason. $He easily beats the Prince’s opponent two times, never once hitting the ground or meeting the tip of $his opponent’s lance. The crowd claps and roars in approval at $his victory. Averill struck me as humble, always dismounting $his own horse to help $his opponent up. If reading the crowd’s energy said anything, it noted that Averill was well-loved and adored. Even from my spot, I could see the lust residing in their eyes, and the envy in others. After Averill’s win, I, and several others leave, going back to the festival as its end began to draw near. <a data-passage="3.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I begin to make my way back to my master’s vendor cart when I hear someone growl loudly. <<if $empathy >=50>>Their anger causing even me to feel automatic symapthy for them and rage against whoever was the mark.<<else>>I freeze, the tents currently in my way and shielding the identity of whoever was there. They had probably stubbed their foot, something trivial that didn’t need my attention.<</if>> “How dare you?” a raucous voice questioned, “he is your flesh and blood, and you will not treat him as any less!” I now stop, cocking my head to the side as my interests stand atop the curiosity mountain that it had been ascending. “And he will be shamed and have nothing to his name if you say a word. If I do not do this then we both risk the wrath of my beloved King, he is already plenty suspicious. Him calling in that forsaken seer does not help. What if ?he sees us in one of those damned dreams?” I froze, shivering uncontrollably as I realized why the queen detested me so. “I don’t care, Isa, I’m –” “You will address me as Queen Isa.” Her tone was demanding, it cared not if he respected her, he would speak to her with respect. “No.” I swallow a laugh at his word, well there goes that respect, “I don’t care about my fate any longer, nor do I care for yours. If you demote him then we no longer have an agreement. He’s much more fit to rule than that blasted son of yours.” I shift in an attempt to get closer, shivering and then stiffening as I glance around. It felt as if someone was watching me but I saw no one, could hear no one, and picked up no presence besides the two before me. “And you will risk all of our lives? Simply because you wish to taste the life of royalty?” “I don’t give a shit about your titles. //You// will be risking all of our lives,” silence follows before the man says, “but you and your kind like this. This game. Continue playing it the way you are, and you will regret it.” My back hits the tent pole that I had been grabbing onto. I knew things that I shouldn’t. Things that, without question, could have me killed. I would be returning to Akrisos with enough secrets of Ipharia to last me a lifetime. “It would be wise of you to leave,” a voice on the wind whispers. I twist around, my heart racing faster than I could ever imagine. I had heard someone, I was sure of it. Yet, no one stands there and my body was still telling me that no one was around. Whether I had truly heard someone or not, I decide to leave, letting the oncoming night breeze cool me down as I shake the unexplained voice from my head. I head back to my master with my mind darting from one piece of information to the next. <<nobr>><<set $evidence_bastardchild = true>><</nobr>> <a data-passage="3.4"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<audio "fair" fadeout>> <<audio "eclipse" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.40>> “My wonderful apprentice,” my master begins upon seeing me approach, “whom I would be lost without. Withering away in my own agony and desperation.” “Are you okay? What’s wrong? What did you do?” “What did I do?” he exclaims and then laughs, heaving the last crate onto the back of the wagon. “I did nothing but listen to your fans gush about you. In their defense, I suppose, they did donate tons of ruho in your name.” “What are you talking about?” I ask further, checking to see that everything is okay and situated correctly on the wagon. “They came to me and asked why they had never heard of me. I told them who I was and why I was there. If only I knew that would lead to every last one of them asking about you and gushing over your name.” I snort as I roll my eyes, eyeing the empty seat beside him on the wagon. There were a good many staying back to watch the eclipse, I could do so as well. <<if $averillLi >=1>>I also recall Averill’s invitation from earlier about watching it with $him.<</if>> [[Go back to the castle with Master Audouin.]] [[Go watch the eclipse.][$watchEclipse = true]] <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ [[Go watch the eclipse with Averill.][$watchEclipse = true; $averill +=3]] <</if>>\
I grab the side of the wagon and heave myself into the seat, relaxing as Master Audouin drives us back towards the castle, glancing over at him to bring back the conversation we were just having. [[“Jealous?”]] [[“Yea, some found me in the festival.”]] [[“But you got ruho from it.”]]
“Jealous?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows teasingly. “Of your fame? No. I would rather watch you from the sidelines, reminding you that works still needs to be done.” “At least you didn’t have to rub shoulders with nobles.” “How was that by the way? I heard some interesting things, like you playing colf.” <<if $colfKing>>\ “Ah yes, the King asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about his son and if I thought he was a decent leader … what do you think?” “I think the Prince is an idiot and looks more like a boy than a man. But I’m sure if the royal family wanted my thoughts on the matter, they would’ve asked.” <<else>>\ “Ah yes, the Prince asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about how I, as a $species, felt living in Nidinia.” My master chokes on his next words before laughing, “you will make my day by telling me that you asked him the same.” “And find myself the main attraction in a public execution? I think not.” <</if>>\ My smile fades as I fiddle with the hem of my tunic, “the King wishes for me to lie to the people. To tell them that everything will be fine and there is little to worry about.” “I remain unvexed. The King might see something that the rest of us fail to see, but he is no idiot. He knows that his people will not follow his son, and that will lead to rebellion. The real question here is, what will you do?” [[“I want to tell the truth.”][$honesty +=10]] [[“What they wish to hear.”][$honesty -=10]]
“Yea, some ended up finding me in the festival.” “What a dreadful thing. I am shocked that they didn’t ask for your blessings.” “At least you didn’t have to rub shoulders with nobles.” “How was that by the way? I heard some interesting things, like you playing colf.” <<if $colfKing>>\ “Ah yes, the King asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about his son and if I thought he was a decent leader … what do you think?” “I think the Prince is an idiot and looks more like a boy than a man. But I’m sure if the royal family wanted my thoughts on the matter, they would’ve asked.” <<else>>\ “Ah yes, the Prince asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about how I, as a $species, felt living in Nidinia.” My master chokes on his next words before laughing, “you will make my day by telling me that you asked him the same.” “And find myself the main attraction in a public execution? I think not.” <</if>>\ My smile fades as I fiddle with the hem of my tunic, “the King wishes for me to lie to the people. To tell them that everything will be fine and there is little to worry about.” “I remain unvexed. The King might see something that the rest of us fail to see, but he is no idiot. He knows that his people will not follow his son, and that will lead to rebellion. The real question here is, what will you do?” [[“I want to tell the truth.”][$honesty +=10]] [[“What they wish to hear.”][$honesty -=10]]
“But,” I cut in, “at least you got some ruho from it.” “Indeed. A small price to pay.” “At least you didn’t have to rub shoulders with nobles.” “How was that by the way? I heard some interesting things, like you playing colf.” <<if $colfKing>>\ “Ah yes, the King asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about his son and if I thought he was a decent leader … what do you think?” “I think the Prince is an idiot and looks more like a boy than a man. But I’m sure if the royal family wanted my thoughts on the matter, they would’ve asked.” <<else>>\ “Ah yes, the Prince asked me to join him. We mainly spoke about how I, as a $species, felt living in Nidinia.” My master chokes on his next words before laughing, “you will make my day by telling me that you asked him the same.” “And find myself the main attraction in a public execution? I think not.” <</if>>\ My smile fades as I fiddle with the hem of my tunic, “the King wishes for me to lie to the people. To tell them that everything will be fine and there is little to worry about.” “I remain unvexed. The King might see something that the rest of us fail to see, but he is no idiot. He knows that his people will not follow his son, and that will lead to rebellion. The real question here is, what will you do?” [[“I want to tell the truth.”][$honesty +=10]] [[“What they wish to hear.”][$honesty -=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Honesty ++</span><</if>> “I wish to tell the truth. Do you believe that’s possible at all?” <<if $gwMaster>>\ “Have you had a dream of what will befall the kingdom? Not counting the one you already told me about.” “No, I have had no others.” <<else>>\ “Have you had a dream of what will befall the kingdom?” “No, I haven’t,” I lie, not wanting to tell him of the dream I had earlier that day. <</if>>\ “I see. Then the truth, besides you telling them that dreams have yet to bless you, will not satiate them either. They will want something, and even if you say that the Prince is not fit to rule, that too would be your own opinion.” “So all is lost?” “Ah, my dear <<if $dad>>?son<<else>>apprentice<</if>>,” my master starts with a small admiring smile, “what have you gotten yourself into?” “I ask myself the same,” I growl. “Chin up, $name, soon we will be back in Akrisos, and you can leave all of this behind you. Life will return to normal, and you will no longer be under the thumb of those who swear they know better.” I nod in agreement, that day could not come faster. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> “I will tell them what any citizen would want to hear. Their leader is kind and benevolent and will do everything he can to make sure that his citizens can rest easy and live happily.” “Do you have no fear about the ramifications this could have on your name?” I glance down, I did. But I don’t think the King or the Prince cared much about my nervousness or reputation. I sigh, tiredly. “Ah, my dear <<if $dad>>$son<<else>>apprentice<</if>>,” my master starts with a small admiring smile, “what have you gotten yourself into?” “I ask myself the same,” I growl. “Chin up, $name, soon we will be back in Akrisos, and you can leave all of this behind you. Life will return to normal, and you will no longer be under the thumb of those who swear they know better.” I nod in agreement, that day could not come faster. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Will you be okay with heading back on your own? I’m going to stay and watch some of the eclipse.” “I can handle myself,” my master chuckles, “you go enjoy that beautiful view that the gods bless us with every so often.” “You sure you don’t wish to join me?” I ask, taking a few steps back from the wagon, not wishing for him to miss out on something as uncommon and beautiful as this. “I’ve seen enough eclipses to miss this one,” he hums, a peaceful look overtaking his face as he gazes towards the sky. “Relax and let the magical energy wash over you. You will find it fairly cleansing.” I nod and see him off before walking towards a field that others gather at as well. I sit away from many, not wishing to disturb this time with others asking me for their fortunes. As I sit, I take in those around me. A group of women sings softly from nearby as they thrum their sweet-sounding harps, allowing the harmonious tune to be carried to present ears by the wind. A few children rush around with broad smiles and energy to spare despite the day they might’ve had. They tease one another as they go, tripping over themselves in haste to get away from the other. My eyes finally rise to the eclipse, watching as the moon slowly creeps towards the sun, threatening to overtake it—the two about to engage in one of the most intimate dances known to the world. I take a deep, calming breath in, allowing the charged magic to wash over me. It felt like tiny pricks upon my skin, a quick pain before my skin absorbs it, and the magic enters my bloodstream. Everything seems to work in tandem, the lullaby-like music, the soft laughter of children, the exhilarating presence of magic. I stare up at the eclipse and feel my eyes begin to close. <a data-passage="3.4.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
But it was there. Something was there. On the edge of my consciousness, I could feel it, like a word wishing to drip off a tongue but never taking the plunge. A bird teetering on the edge of its nest, knowing it was time but far too anxious to finally commit. I reach for it, but of course, it eludes me. My heart picks upbeat, sweat trickles down my forehead, darkness settles over me, and then I see it. A trail of white blood, dripping carelessly upon earthenware tile flooring. A dark corridor and a single silhouette. A flash of light as the moon finally overtakes the sun. My head aches, and I groan, attempting to stand but failing. I can hardly catch and steady myself, determining then that it was wise to end the night here. I would speak to my master tomorrow on this matter, though, I perceive that this was all caused by the eclipse and the intensity of the magic washing over me. Gathering my breath, and checking to see that I can walk right, I head back to the castle. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Will you be okay with heading back on your own? I’m going to stay and watch some of the eclipse.” “I can handle myself,” my master chuckles, “you go enjoy that beautiful view that the gods bless us with every so often.” “Thank you,” I say, not knowing how excited I sound until my master raises an inquisitive brow. “And why such excitement for such a simple spectacle?” “No excitement. I mean, some excitement,” I stammer, “I’d hardly call an eclipse simple. It’s a beautiful scene to take in. How can I not be excited?” He pouts and narrows his gaze, his nashi suddenly taking on a brighter shade of gold before turning subtle, “I doubt it’s the view as much as who you will be sharing it with.” “Master, no.” “Yes,” he chuckles, “I can only guess it to be that guard, General Averill, am I correct?” “It’s just enjoyable to be able to speak to someone not from Akrisos.” “Yes, yes,” my master says, waving my words away, not believing anything I had said, “you go have fun but remember.” The broad smile that appears tells me immediately that his next words were more of a tease than actual valid advice, “always use protection.” “Master!” I shout, hiding <<if $species is "ecrid">>my brightening nashi, feeling the warmth that gathers in my cheeks heighten.<<else>>my burning cheeks from my master’s keen eyes.<</if>> “Go,” he shouts, “I wish not to be your excuse for your tardiness.” I smile and see him off before walking towards a field that others gather at as well. I search for Averill amongst the crowd, finally seeing $him surrounded by what I can only assume is $his fan club. As I get closer, I spot the stiffness in $his shoulders each time someone gets closer, the tension glaringly evident when one attempted or succeeded in touching $him. $He spots me and excuses $himself, letting out a relieved breath once $he makes it to my side. [[“Nice fan club there, mine’s better.”]] [[“It would seem that I’m not your only admirer.”]] [[“You looked uncomfortable, are you okay?”]]
“Nice fan club there,” I start, nodding my head at those who still have yet to wander away, taking glances back towards us, “but mine’s better.” “Would you like to swap then?” $he asks, gazing at me through hopeful eyes. I laugh, “I think not. Yours look almost predatory.” “And yours are not?” $he questions, $his tone curious, “mine simply admirer. I fear yours wish for more than to simply endow you with compliments.” I shrug, not having much to say as $he was right in that regard, my fans typically had some sort of favor to add following their praise. “I have a blanket,” Averill points out, and I catch sight of it dangling on $his arm. I move back to allow $him to spread it out along the ground, and we both take a seat. “I will not lie, I didn’t think you’d come.” “I wasn’t exactly able to answer you when you asked, the guards seemed like an impatient lot.” “I apologize for that, by the way.” “No need to apologize. I saw the tournament, you did really well, I’m sure you’re proud.” Averill looks away, attempting to hide a subtle smile, “I did as well as I could. I wished to make the King proud, though I do wish I had gotten a more challenging opponent. The knight that the Prince had chosen is all talk and of little brain or action.” “You wished for more?” “I crave stimulation,” Averill begins, accompanying $his words with a shrug, “if I must compete in such a way then I at least want to break a sweat; otherwise it feels more like a show then an actual competition.” $He stiffens and shakes $his head, “enough about me. Tell me, what do you find most interesting about being an apprentice?” [[“The constant stream of knowledge.”]] [[“My master, actually.”][$masterApp = true]] [[“Easy, the power.”]] [[“The people I meet, good and bad.”]]
“It would seem that I’m not your only admirer, Ser Knight,” I chuckle, gazing at those who seemed almost reluctant to go, peeking back at us when they could. “And yet, you’re the only one who I truly care to impress.” I turn towards $him to see a burning spark residing in $his eyes, one that causes warmth to blaze through me. “I have a blanket,” Averill points out, and I catch sight of it dangling on $his arm. I move back to allow $him to spread it out along the ground, and we both take a seat. “I will not lie, I didn’t think you’d come.” “I wasn’t exactly able to answer you when you asked, the guards seemed like an impatient lot.” “I apologize for that, by the way.” “No need to apologize. I saw the tournament, you did really well, I’m sure you’re proud.” Averill looks away, attempting to hide a subtle smile, “I did as well as I could. I wished to make the King proud, though I do wish I had gotten a more challenging opponent. The knight that the Prince had chosen is all talk and of little brain or action.” “You wished for more?” “I crave stimulation,” Averill begins, accompanying $his words with a shrug, “if I must compete in such a way then I at least want to break a sweat; otherwise it feels more like a show then an actual competition.” $He stiffens and shakes $his head, “enough about me. Tell me, what do you find most interesting about being an apprentice?” [[“The constant stream of knowledge.”]] [[“My master, actually.”][$masterApp = true]] [[“Easy, the power.”]] [[“The people I meet, good and bad.”]]
“You looked uncomfortable over there, are you okay?” Averill turns $his head away as $his cheeks become flushed, “you noticed that?” “It was a shock that they hadn’t.” “I don’t typically like when others touch me, I suppose is the way to phrase my feelings. But many here believe they know me well enough to do so.” “Noted,” I say with a natural smile and $his eyes widen in what I could only describe as dread. “No! I mean, I would not mind your touch, it would be welcomed.” $He sighs again, scratching the back of $his neck and refusing to meet my eye. “I have a blanket,” Averill points out, and I catch sight of it dangling on $his arm. I move back to allow $him to spread it out along the ground, and we both take a seat. “I will not lie, I didn’t think you’d come.” “I wasn’t exactly able to answer you when you asked, the guards seemed like an impatient lot.” “I apologize for that, by the way.” “No need to apologize. I saw the tournament, you did really well, I’m sure you’re proud.” Averill looks away, attempting to hide a subtle smile, “I did as well as I could. I wished to make the King proud, though I do wish I had gotten a more challenging opponent. The knight that the Prince had chosen is all talk and of little brain or action.” “You wished for more?” “I crave stimulation,” Averill begins, accompanying $his words with a shrug, “if I must compete in such a way then I at least want to break a sweat; otherwise it feels more like a show then an actual competition.” $He stiffens and shakes $his head, “enough about me. Tell me, what do you find most interesting about being an apprentice?” [[“The constant stream of knowledge.”]] [[“My master, actually.”][$masterApp = true]] [[“Easy, the power.”]] [[“The people I meet, good and bad.”]]
I sit and think $his words over, and only one answer comes to me, “the constant stream of knowledge. Every day it feels like I learn something new or find a new way to do something. It’s amazing what you think you know versus what is really out there. Every day it feels like the world is opening itself up to me a little more. It’s amazing.” I glance over at Averill and see $him sitting silently admiring me, $his once intense eyes somehow becoming incredibly soft. “I can see it.” “What do you mean?” “The passion is in your eyes. In your voice and your posture, you light up when thinking of it. It’s mesmerizing.” I bite my cheek as I glance away from $him, gazing towards the sky. The moon was still making its way towards the sun, it wouldn’t complete the journey anytime soon. “Averill,” we both turn in our seat to see an armored guard, who bears the same uniform as Averill, approach. “Ser Federic, is something the matter?” Averill asks as $he gets to $his feet. “I apologize for interrupting you, but the King has called for the two of us.” I watch in interest as the almost carefree Averill seems to disappear, replaced by a much more stoic and compliant one. $He nods before turning to me, “I apologize profusely for this.” “No need,” I chuckle, standing and stretching my back out, “I should head back and lie down to sleep.” “Are you sure you would rather not watch the rest of the eclipse?” I shake my head, feeling the need for sleep sink further into my bones. “No, I should really head back. Thank you for this.” Averill nods, bowing as $he gently grabs my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Federic turns and goes, and right as he does, Averill leans in and places a featherlight kiss to my cheek, beaming softly before following behind $his colleague. I watch with my mouth slightly ajar, watching as he goes, and experiencing the rise and fall of the tingles that shoot through me. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“My master, actually,” I admit, “I could have gotten anyone to teach me, and I do believe my experience would be incredibly different. But I was given Master Audouin, and I found with him not only a mentor but a figure that I could look up to. Someone I could confide in. I trust him with my life.” “You care for him a great deal?” Averill questions. “I do. I suppose it is similar to how you feel about the King, the two of you seem fairly close.” “We are. He became like a second father to me, especially when my own had to take a prolonged break from his duties when … when my mother passed.” Averill trails off as $he says the end part of $his sentence, sighing deeply but seeming to wave the worry away a minute later. “Averill,” we both turn in our seat to see an armored guard, who bears the same uniform as Averill, approach. “Ser Federic, is something the matter?” Averill asks as $he gets to $his feet. “I apologize for interrupting you, but the King has called for the two of us.” I watch in interest as the almost carefree Averill seems to disappear, replaced by a much more stoic and compliant one. $He nods before turning to me, “I apologize profusely for this.” “No need,” I chuckle, standing and stretching my back out, “I should head back and lie down to sleep.” “Are you sure you would rather not watch the rest of the eclipse?” I shake my head, feeling the need for sleep sink further into my bones. “No, I should really head back. Thank you for this.” Averill nods, bowing as $he gently grabs my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Federic turns and goes, and right as he does, Averill leans in and places a featherlight kiss to my cheek, beaming softly before following behind $his colleague. I watch with my mouth slightly ajar, watching as he goes, and experiencing the rise and fall of the tingles that shoot through me. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Easy, the power,” I tell him, “it’s enjoyable and thrilling. Taking something as raw and powerful as magic and bending it to my will, ordering it and having it obey me.” “It sounds,” $he frowns, “interesting. I suppose I never thought of it in such a way.” “How do you feel when you best an opponent that is notorious for never being beaten? When all of your training and hard work finally visually shows itself to you?” $He pauses and thinks my words over, “I understand. It is a feeling like no other. One of accomplishment, pride, and … power.” With a smile, I nod in agreement, happy to have been able to explain myself and even more delighted that $he hadn’t immediately judged me like many would do. “Averill,” we both turn in our seat to see an armored guard, who bears the same uniform as Averill, approach. “Ser Federic, is something the matter?” Averill asks as $he gets to $his feet. “I apologize for interrupting you, but the King has called for the two of us.” I watch in interest as the almost carefree Averill seems to disappear, replaced by a much more stoic and compliant one. $He nods before turning to me, “I apologize profusely for this.” “No need,” I chuckle, standing and stretching my back out, “I should head back and lie down to sleep.” “Are you sure you would rather not watch the rest of the eclipse?” I shake my head, feeling the need for sleep sink further into my bones. “No, I should really head back. Thank you for this.” Averill nods, bowing as $he gently grabs my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Federic turns and goes, and right as he does, Averill leans in and places a featherlight kiss to my cheek, beaming softly before following behind $his colleague. I watch with my mouth slightly ajar, watching as he goes, and experiencing the rise and fall of the tingles that shoot through me. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“I think it would be the people I meet, both the good and the bad ones. I enjoy watching people, and you would be surprised at the wide variety of customers I get with working in my master’s shop. The readings also provide great entertainment, bringing in the most curious of people.” “It sounds interesting. Which have been your favorite?” “That is a hard one to answer, there have been so many that I remember and so many that I have forgotten,” I laugh and shake my head, “I remembered so many stories just before you asked me which was my favorite. Now, I can’t seem to recall even one.” “Averill,” we both turn in our seat to see an armored guard, who bears the same uniform as Averill, approach. “Ser Federic, is something the matter?” Averill asks as $he gets to $his feet. “I apologize for interrupting you, but the King has called for the two of us.” I watch in interest as the almost carefree Averill seems to disappear, replaced by a much more stoic and compliant one. $He nods before turning to me, “I apologize profusely for this.” “No need,” I chuckle, standing and stretching my back out, “I should head back and lie down to sleep.” “Are you sure you would rather not watch the rest of the eclipse?” I shake my head, feeling the need for sleep sink further into my bones. “No, I should really head back. Thank you for this.” Averill nods, bowing as $he gently grabs my hand and places a kiss to the back of it. Federic turns and goes, and right as he does, Averill leans in and places a featherlight kiss to my cheek, beaming softly before following behind $his colleague. I watch with my mouth slightly ajar, watching as he goes, and experiencing the rise and fall of the tingles that shoot through me. <a data-passage="3.5"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> I rest my eyes as soon as my head hits my pillow. I pray to Moon to bless me with sweet dreams, and yet, my prayers go unanswered. The things that I had learned since coming here kept me wide awake. Regardless of the covers that stayed close to my torso, I shiver with each thought. [[Play with my magic.]] [[Reassure myself.]] [[Think it through.]]
I sit up and call forth my magic. I watch random white glowing orbs fall from my hand as my palm creates a small twister. I form a ball and toss it from one hand to the other, and then command it to follow my finger. I draw pictures in the air, allowing the carefree nature to calm my thrumming heart. Sleep finally visits me, but it visits only to mock. For as soon as I close my eyes, I am met by a dream that reminds me of the nightmare. Only, this was not like my usual dreams. Whereas everything was puzzling, and I wasn’t totally aware of my surroundings, I knew who I was and where. Alone in a forest that I didn’t know. Trekking through when I see a figure run up to me. The figure has no eyes. It attacks me, clawing at my own eyes frantically. It resembles more of a frightful animal than a person with a mind and soul, the franticness of its actions were perhaps even scarier than its motive. I awoke. The sun still not in the sky as far as the darkness told me, but outside my window, I could hear the celebration. The distant sounds of fire crackers exploding in the sky. I approach the window and with a yawn, gaze outside. I could see the bright lights decorating the town in the distance, and as my eyes rose to the sky, I caught sight of the eclipse. I shake my head, wishing that I could enjoy it like the others, but my head was pounding. It wasn’t even due to being tired, this feeling was different like I had just exerted myself and was now being told to do it again. My master was undoubtedly sleeping, but I needed something that would do away with my dreams, at least for a few nights. I could no longer take this; I needed a break. I head to my master’s room, pushing the already ajar door further open and continuing inside. And then I freeze. The air is knocked from my lungs, and the vile rises at the sight. <a data-passage="3.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I take in multiple deep breaths, “in a day or so, you will be back in Akrisos. The most urgent thing will be Isaak and saving him from Ansellus. Ipharia will be behind you, as well as their silly games. The only nobility would be the Lord.” My words ease my thrumming heart, and I clutch my pillow. Sleep finally visits me, but it visits only to mock. For as soon as I close my eyes, I am met by a dream that reminds me of the nightmare. Only, this was not like my usual dreams. Whereas everything was puzzling, and I wasn’t totally aware of my surroundings, I knew who I was and where. Alone in a forest that I didn’t know. Trekking through when I see a figure run up to me. The figure has no eyes. It attacks me, clawing at my own eyes frantically. It resembles more of a frightful animal than a person with a mind and soul, the franticness of its actions were perhaps even scarier than its motive. I awoke. The sun still not in the sky as far as the darkness told me, but outside my window, I could hear the celebration. The distant sounds of fire crackers exploding in the sky. I approach the window and with a yawn, gaze outside. I could see the bright lights decorating the town in the distance, and as my eyes rose to the sky, I caught sight of the eclipse. I shake my head, wishing that I could enjoy it like the others, but my head was pounding. It wasn’t even due to being tired, this feeling was different like I had just exerted myself and was now being told to do it again. My master was undoubtedly sleeping, but I needed something that would do away with my dreams, at least for a few nights. I could no longer take this; I needed a break. I head to my master’s room, pushing the already ajar door further open and continuing inside. And then I freeze. The air is knocked from my lungs, and the vile rises at the sight. <a data-passage="3.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The Prince wasn’t going to make a good leader. The Queen had an illegitimate child. And the King was dying. My dream from earlier did not bode well for the royal family, but that was their problem. I only received the dreams. Nowhere did I ever say that I had the power to stop them. I did nothing but recite. I was called here for one thing, and that was to reassure the people of Ipharia that their newest leader could get the job done. That was it, I could do that … Sleep finally visits me, but it visits only to mock. For as soon as I close my eyes, I am met by a dream that reminds me of the nightmare. Only, this was not like my usual dreams. Whereas everything was puzzling, and I wasn’t totally aware of my surroundings, I knew who I was and where. Alone in a forest that I didn’t know. Trekking through when I see a figure run up to me. The figure has no eyes. It attacks me, clawing at my own eyes frantically. It resembles more of a frightful animal than a person with a mind and soul, the franticness of its actions were perhaps even scarier than its motive. I awoke. The sun still not in the sky as far as the darkness told me, but outside my window, I could hear the celebration. The distant sounds of fire crackers exploding in the sky. I approach the window and with a yawn, gaze outside. I could see the bright lights decorating the town in the distance, and as my eyes rose to the sky, I caught sight of the eclipse. I shake my head, wishing that I could enjoy it like the others, but my head was pounding. It wasn’t even due to being tired, this feeling was different like I had just exerted myself and was now being told to do it again. My master was undoubtedly sleeping, but I needed something that would do away with my dreams, at least for a few nights. I could no longer take this; I needed a break. I head to my master’s room, pushing the already ajar door further open and continuing inside. And then I freeze. The air is knocked from my lungs, and the vile rises at the sight. <a data-passage="3.6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<audio "eclipse" fadeout>> <<audio "masterdeath" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.40>> <<if $species is "ecrid">>\ Many will joke and say that we, Ecrid, upon our birth, shake hands with death willingly. That we will have a conversation with death and not despair, that we would gladly walk to En’s door and greet her like an old friend. I found no issue in those words, mostly because even I didn’t exactly fear death. There was a difference between fearing something and simply not wishing for it yet. And that is what I think most Ecrid agreed upon. Death would come to all of us, we were no more excited than the next but we failed to fear death, something we knew we would never escape. <<else>>\ Many will joke and say that Ecrid’s, upon their birth, shake hands with death willingly. That an Ecrid will have a conversation with death and not despair, that they would gladly walk to En’s door and greet her like an old friend. This is due to the full life everyone believes they have. The Ecrid’s love for travel cannot be compared to any other and is perhaps one of the reasons why Ecrid’s are known to be the wisest and friendliest. <</if>>\ Perhaps those jokes and stories rung true, for Master Audouin looked so peaceful. It was as if death had come to his side in the night and took his soul after sharing a friendly laugh. But it wasn’t death and the natural aging of my master that had stolen his breath. Instead, it was the stab wound that screamed of foul play, residing on his chest. His head was leaning to the side, his eyes still open as he looked towards the far wall. His nashi a dark grey and strange to look at, I never once remembered a time that they held no color. <<if $empathy >=50>>\ The room was as still as he, and it felt almost wrong to look upon him and not feel even an inch of emotion rolling off of him. I almost wished to delve deeper, to push my natural empath powers to their limit if only to feel the tiniest thing from him. <</if>>\ I stumbled backward, my vision blurring for a minute. [[He wasn’t dead … I was still dreaming.]] [[I feel sick …][$care +=5]] [[Stay where I am, get control of my emotions.][$care -=5]] <<if $heal >=15>>\ [[Try and heal his wounds.][$care -=5; $energy -=50; $redhanded = true]] <</if>>\
I shake my head. I pinch myself. I yell. I shout. I cry. I leave the room and come back. Nothing changes besides my breathing. <<if $watchEclipse>>\ “No!” I shout, he was just alive. I had //just// seen him. I was helping him pack up his vendor cart, and I sent him off to watch the eclipse. This had just happened! He was alive and well. He was alive … <<else>>\ “No!” I shout, he was just alive. I had //just// seen him. I was helping him pack up his vendor cart, and he was bragging about how many charms and potions he had sold. He joked about leaving Akrisos for Ipharia, only for me to remind him of the nobles. We laughed together, mimicking nobles and I telling him stories about the festival. This had just happened! He was alive and well. He was alive … <</if>>\ My next actions were not my own. My feet had somehow developed some sort of intelligence, and they raced through the halls, taking me towards the throne room. My mind didn’t bother to stop my legs, and my heart was beating too rapidly to truly care what my legs were doing. Neither did common sense tell me that no one would be there, they were either out watching the eclipse or sleeping. The halls began to look alike. My body was trembling. I didn’t know what to do. I throw the doors of the throne room open, not expecting those currently there, to be in attendance. I raced towards the King who stood before his throne, speaking to someone. <a data-passage="3.7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> I clench my stomach, and with my free hand, cover my mouth. I could feel the bile rushing up, the acid burning my throat before somehow pushing itself back down. I turn my back to the scene, afraid that I would genuinely throw up if I kept looking on. This was not happening; this couldn’t have happened. I had just talked to him! Laughed and joked about Ipharia and our time here. He was alive and well. He was alive … My next actions were not my own. My feet had somehow developed some sort of intelligence, and they raced through the halls, taking me towards the throne room. My mind didn’t bother to stop my legs, and my heart was beating too rapidly to truly care what my legs were doing. Neither did common sense tell me that no one would be there, they were either out watching the eclipse or sleeping. The halls began to look alike. My body was trembling. I didn’t know what to do. I throw the doors of the throne room open, not expecting those currently there, to be in attendance. I raced towards the King who stood before his throne, speaking to someone. <a data-passage="3.7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>> <<if $species is "ecrid">> <<set $empathy -=5>> <</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Logical ++</span><</if>> <</nobr>> <<if $empathy >=50>>\ //Get ahold of yourself//, I tell myself. But I couldn’t, for this was the time where my empath abilities worked against me. I clench my stomach, and with my free hand, cover my mouth. I could feel the bile rushing up, the acid burning my throat before somehow pushing itself back down. I turn my back to the scene, afraid that I would genuinely throw up if I kept looking on. “No!” I shout, hot tears rushing down my cheeks, he was alive. I had //just// seen him. I was helping him pack up his vendor cart, and he was bragging about how many charms and potions he had sold. He joked about leaving Akrisos for Ipharia, only for me to remind him of the nobles. We laughed together, mimicking nobles and I telling him stories about the festival. This had just happened! He was alive and well. He was alive … <<else>>\ //Get ahold of yourself//, I tell myself. My mind was on my side, but my body was not. Every time I tell myself to get a grip, it seemed to crumble more. My legs felt like they were about to give out and I felt the vile daring me to take another look so that it could successfully leave my body. I close my eyes and attempt to cancel out my surroundings, but my senses thought otherwise. My nose took a whiff of the air, and my eyes landed on my dead master once again. This was not happening. I refuse to believe that the man I had spoken to not long ago, was no laying dead. This was a joke! Some kind of sick joke! <</if>>\ My next actions were not my own. My feet had somehow developed some sort of intelligence, and they raced through the halls, taking me towards the throne room. My mind didn’t bother to stop my legs, and my heart was beating too rapidly to truly care what my legs were doing. Neither did common sense tell me that no one would be there, they were either out watching the eclipse or sleeping. The halls began to look alike. My body was trembling. I didn’t know what to do. I throw the doors of the throne room open, not expecting those currently there, to be in attendance. I raced towards the King who stood before his throne, speaking to someone. <a data-passage="3.7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With fear coursing through my veins but knowledge still at my side, I focus on the wound resting on his chest. //Breathe//, he used to always tell me, //breathe and concentrate. Envision the outcome you want.// I had no time to see if any plants were resting around to aid me, and so I jump straight in. I place my hands on his chest and center myself, letting the walls fall until all that was left was just my master and me. Somehow, I calm my racing heart, telling it that there was a chance to make this aching stop if it simply worked with me. I prayed to every last god that that was the case. I hear spluttering and jump back, shocked to see my master’s eyes flicker. “Master Audouin,” I shout, coming back and placing my hands back on the wound, I was doing it. “No,” he mumbles, tears slipping down his eyes, and I notice that his nashi remains colorless, not even a tiny glint. “Hang on,” I say through gritted teeth, focusing, putting all of my energy into the task. This needed to work! “Stop,” I hear him say, choking on his blood. I open my eyes to see his eyes roll up, “to ... too late.” He goes still once again. “No!” I roar, calling forth my magic again and exerting all of my energy. I can feel my own life force buck and howl, warning me of my actions. I grow lightheaded, but I push on, refusing to give up. I needed more energy, I could do this. “Freeze! Seize ?him!” I hear voices say, but I refuse to stop. Something grabs me, and I thrash, shaking my head as I attempt to get back to my master’s side. I swear I see him twitch as they drag me away, and I panic; there was still hope. “Let me go! Let me save him!” I yell, but they don’t listen, pulling me out of the room and down the hallway. I continue to fight and kick at whoever had grabbed me, only calming when my adrenaline finally could take no more and leaves me trembling and out of sorts. A door opens, and I realize that I was in the throne room, murmurs from all those standing around as the guards drag me to the King's feet. <a data-passage="3.7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Your Majesty! My master, he’s dead! Someone killed my master,” I cry out. “Silence!” the King shouted, his shout shaking the room and causing everyone in attendance to flinch. I blink in confusion, not knowing who he was talking to or what was going on. His cheeks were dampened by tears that had left their streaks. His eyes were rimmed with red and the emotion lying within of righteous rage. “Guards,” he shouted in the same tone, “detain ?him.” They do so immediately, kicking my legs out from under me and forcing me to my knees. I felt sick, and my pounding head refused to calm. What was going on? My master … what was more important than that? My heart ached, and I couldn’t find words. My mind didn’t even wish to settle as it floated down a stream of questions. I glanced up, my eyes landing on a nearby window that gave me a perfect view of the now complete lunar eclipse. <a data-passage="Chapter Four"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<unset $soup>> <<set $civil = false; $tired = false; $outfit = false; $frontLine = false; $guardAnger = false; $sellstuff = false>> <<pickup '$miscInventory' 'spell book'>> <<playlist "ambience" loop play>> <</nobr>>\ <img src="images/two.png"> I double-check my bags, yawning wistfully as I recall my sleep. A soundless slumber, and when I wake, I feel invigorated, which is helpful since today we will embark for the capital, <<link 'Ipharia'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>Known as the Brightest Beacon to all those around, Ipharia is the capital of Nidinia. Bordered by the Exalted Mountains to the east, the Harzimar Ocean to the north, and the large Prywth Forest to the southwest, it is not only protected by most threats, but the view is nothing if not gorgeous. With a population of 184,890.<</dialog>><</link>>. I should perhaps pay my master a visit if only to see how his packing is coming along. Knowing him, he has only packed his lute to annoy any whose ears pick up his dreadful playing. The man is a master of many things but learning how to play the lute is not one of them. I’d enchant the darn thing if he were daft. Once I’m sure I packed everything, I grab both bags, secure my swanik, and head toward my master’s home. Inside, I find random objects floating in the air, drifting lazily upon an unseen current. I duck underneath one of his teapots, searching the rooms for the illustrious witch. Finally, I find him in his study, plopping potions into one of his traveling sale boxes. “$name?” “Yes?” “Do you think I should include the memory potions for the trip?” “I see no reason why you should, but also no reason you shouldn’t. Do you wish to get rid of them?” “They sell poorly here. I suppose travelers or the capital will have a greater need for them.” “Then bring them.” I gaze around, spotting his travel bag and approaching it, unvexed to find nothing but books lying within. <a data-passage="2.00"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Master?” I chuckle, grabbing the hefty bag and bringing it to his attention. When his eyes land on it, he gives me a lopsided grin, “do you really plan on coming? Or will you abandon my side at the last minute?” He rolls his eyes and, with a dramatic sigh, removes some of the books and replaces them with clothes. “I will not lie and say that the thought hadn’t come to me. But I cede. Let us hurry. We would not wish to miss the Lord’s monologue.” I roll my eyes. The Lord of Akrisos does love his monologues. As my master finishes packing, I look at some of his books. I would have time on the ride over, and who knows when else, to begin studying. [[Grab his personal notes on herbalism and healing magic.|2.00Heal][$heal +=5]] [[Grab his card deck.|2.00Tarot][$tarot +=5]] [[Grab some charm bags and the guide on curses.|2.00Chaos][$chaos +=5]] [[Grab the spiritual incense.|2.00Spirit][$spirit +=5]] [[Grab a few vials of blood.|2.00Body][$body +=5]]
“Master, do you mind if I grab your notes on herbalism and healing magic?” I shout, looking through them. Many of these I have not been able to begin reading. “I don’t, but when we get back, remember to put them back, I’m not fully done with some.” I gather as many as I can and safely put them in my pack before joining my master by the door, ready to go. <<include "2.01">>
My master is blissfully forgetful at times, so I would not be surprised if he left them thinking otherwise. I grab his deck. It is wise to bring them since I knew not if the King and Crown Prince would want a reading, seeing that they had asked for me personally. <<include "2.01">>
<<nobr>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'charm bags'>><</nobr>>\ “Master, do you mind if I grab your guide on the nature of curses?” I shout to him while grabbing a few of the charm bags that I either made myself or had a hand in preparing. “I don’t, but remember to put it back when we get back. You’re not the only one who still seeks its guidance.” I shout a thank you before stuffing the guidebook into my pack and then joining my master by the door. <<include "2.01">>
<<nobr>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'spiritual incense'>><</nobr>>\ This incense was used to help one focus and then enter the spiritual realm far more quickly than with regular meditation. All one had to do was inhale it, and it took effect a few minutes after. I make sure the top is secure before putting it into a sack, tying it closed, and then placing it in my pack. <<include "2.01">>
<<nobr>>\<<pickup '$miscInventory' 'blood vials'>><</nobr>>\ The vials of blood are kept in the back, away from prying eyes. Blood magic is not illegal for witches, but it is frowned upon by those who don’t understand its uses and those who do. My master knew the benefits and the risks, so he always kept a few vials filled with animal blood handy. It isn’t as potent as the blood from the individual witch, but it is something, nonetheless. <<include "2.01">>
Once outside, my master goes to grab the wagon while I enchant the door with a lock spell. We walk through town, engaging in little conversation as my master mostly grumbles about something I cannot make out. I hadn’t been told how long we would stay in the capital. I surmised our last day would be the day after the prince was crowned. But I could be wrong. I spot a familiar figure at one of the vendors, discussing something with the sellers, or perhaps yelling was a better word. [[Say goodbye to Isaak.|2.01GoodbyeIsaak]] [[Keep going.|2.01KeepGoing][$isaak -=5]]
“Master, I shall join you at the Lord’s caravan,” I tell him, already beginning to walk off. “And I shall make sure I take detailed notes of the monologue that the Lord will surely make.” I snort and continue on, now within earshot of Isaak's conversation. “Lower the prices,” Isaak growls, and the man behind the cart simply laughs. <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "uqanan">>\ “Go and try to scare another, boy. Your attempts at intimidation are lost here.” I step up behind Isaak, enough for the man to see me but not for Isaak to have caught on yet. The seller’s eyes meet mine, and I see him gulp nervously. “Just give me two ruho, boy!” Isaak happily gives him the few coins before turning around, the two of us almost colliding. “How long have you been standing there?” <<else>>\ “Go and try to scare another, boy. Your attempts at intimidation are lost here.” I step up behind Isaak, waiting for their small discussion to cease. “Come on! They were just two ruho the other day.” “And now they’re five. Either buy or stop wasting my time.” I watch as Isaak begrudgingly puts the coin on the side and snatches the goods from the seller, turning and almost running into me. “How long have you been standing there?” <</if>>\ [[“I just got here.”|2.01JustGotHere][$honesty -=3]] [[“For a while.”|2.01While][$honesty +=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> “I just got here,” I say with a welcoming smile, “find everything okay?” <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "uqanan">>Isaak begins to reply<<else>>Isaak rolls his eyes<</if>> but stops when he sees the pack on my back. His gaze meets mine and is filled with questions. <<include "2.01.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Honesty ++</span><</if>> “I was actually standing here for quite some time,” I say with a welcoming smile, <<if $species is "cimmerian" or $species is "uqanan">>“Ah, so perhaps I should be thanking you for the seller’s sudden change in mind.”<<else>>“Ah, so you saw all of that?”<</if>> He frowns at the sight of my pack, questioning me with only a gaze. <<include "2.01.1">>
“I was invited to the King’s coronation. I am to leave with the Lord and his entourage. I only came over to bid you goodbye.” He visibly deflates. “How long will you be gone?” The Prince’s coronation is two days from now, so it could be anywhere from three days or a couple more. I opt to shrug, though, not wishing to answer and utter false assurances. “I understand,” Isaak tells me, lowering his voice, “must be nice to be important.” I give him a look that he returns with a small, apologetic smile. Failing to keep eye contact, he says, “but it’s all good, isn’t it? Have fun.” He walks by me<<if $notouchy>>, patting my shoulders weakly before scurrying on.<<else>>, scurrying on.<</if>> [[Be on my way.|2.01OMW][$isaak -=3]] [[Hug him properly.|2.01HugHim][$isaak +=3]]
There is little else I can do in response to that, so I leave. At this moment, my master probably needed saving anyway. I apparently make it back at the perfect time too. As soon as I approach, the Lord chooses to do the same. <<include "2.02">>
I grab his free hand and yank him back to me, pulling him into a tight embrace. I can feel how shocked he is by the hug, though he gets over it a second later. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes softly before we take a step back. “Don’t fall for any good-looking knights,” he tells me, avoiding eye contact and staring at the ground as he nervously messes with a tuff of grass. [[“No promises.”|2.01NoPromises][$isaak -=2]] <<if $flirt_isaak>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance"></span>[[“I doubt they’ll be as good looking as you.”|2.01NoOneAsGoodAsYou][$isaak +=3; $isaakLi +=1; $crushStatus = "head over heels"]]<<else>>[[“I doubt they’ll be as good looking as you.”|2.01NoOneAsGoodAsYou][$isaak +=3; $isaakLi +=1; $crushStatus = "head over heels"]]<</if>> <</if>>\ [[“Ew.”|2.01Ew][$isaak +=2]]
“No promises,” I snort, not missing his sad and nervous gulp. He nods at me and gives me one last farewell before returning to his business. I then turn and head back to my master. <<include "2.02">>
The corners of my mouth quirk up as I playfully shove him, “I doubt they can hold a candle to your handsomeness.” In response, his cheeks bloom like a fresh field of poppies. His eyes widen as he desperately tries to find something to say back. I watch as he tries to puff out his chest and then attempt to lean on a wall not there, forgetting that we were in the middle of the street. He trips but quickly recovers, his blush going nowhere as he clears his throat. “Um, yea. Of course,” he says, making his voice sound more profound. “You’re adorable,” I snort and turn on my heel to go. “Wait, that’s a good thing, right!?” I hear him shout after me, but I don’t answer. I return to my master's side, apparently making great time too. As soon as I approach, the Lord chooses to do the same. <<if $crushStatus = "head over heels" and $r_att is "pres">>\ <img src="images/divider.png"> With a smile, Isaak watched as $name walked down the street, each step causing ?him to disappear further from his sight. Taking him to a place that Isaak had only known due to stories and word of mouth. The farthest he’s been from the town was to the nearby woods; he couldn’t even imagine riding into Ipharia. His smile soon vanished. The small reminder of his lack of experience was enough to do just that. He felt ... odd. He wished for $name to have a safe journey, yet that was all he could muster. $name would soon be clinking cups with the wealthiest and most notable figures in Nidinia, one of them being the King himself. Isaak always knew that $name was far from his league, so far that it was a wonder that $name even put up with him. But what now? Would $name even come back? And if ?he did, would ?he be forever changed. Would ?he see Isaak for precisely what he was? Some no-name peasant boy who held no future and no aspirations, just a dream that even he knew nothing of? Absentmindedly, he rubbed at his eye, gathering his newly acquired goods as he made his way back to his place of employment. He was thinking himself into a negative headspace when all he should be worried about was $name’s safety. It would be okay … he prayed to each of the High Gods, Darkness included, that it would. <img src="images/divider.png"> <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.02"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The thought causes me to roll my eyes, but I say nothing but a simple, “ew.” Isaak seems to like that answer better than I expect, and he nods cheerfully in agreement. He goes back to his business with one last farewell, and me to mine. I return to my master’s side, apparently making great time too. As soon as I approach, the Lord chooses to do the same. <<include "2.02">>
I keep pace with my master, tossing Isaak one last look before looking ahead. “Is that it?” he questions, gazing over at me. “What do you mean?” “I think me and you both know that Isaak will be severely put out to learn that you left without giving him a proper goodbye.” “I owe him nothing.” “Indeed, but his crush on you is as obvious as the sun above us. Do you not feel the same?” [[“Of course not.”|2.01CourseNot]] [[“I don’t know, honestly.”|2.01IDK]]
I scoff, sending a wry grin his way, “do I look like I have any kind of interest in that man?” My master spares me a quick glance before looking back at the path in front of us. “I thought as much. But it’s better to ask than assume.” I nod in understanding as we turn down a path, finding the Lord’s entourage there, discussing something as their servants kept their expensive silks from hitting the ground. <<include "2.02">>
I bite the inside of my cheek, gazing at the ground and then sparing another glance over my shoulder. Of course, we had walked too far for me to see Isaak anymore. “I don’t know, honestly. At times I find myself admiring him, but I sometimes can’t stand him or just see him as nothing more than a friend. You don’t think I’m leading him on, do you?” “If you are, then he is happy to be led. But no, you owe him nothing, and your head is probably not exactly thinking of a trivial dalliance at the moment.” I nod in understanding as we turn down a path, finding the Lord’s entourage there, discussing something as their servants kept their expensive silks from hitting the ground. <<include "2.02">>
“Ah, Master Audouin and Apprentice $name. How happy I was to learn that the two of you would be joining us on this venture,” the Lord of Akrisos greets, pushing some of those vying for his attention out of the way so that he could approach. “Hmm, are you in need of a horse?” My master looks to me, begging me to end him here and now. He clears his throat, and a humble chuckle escapes as he waves the Lord’s words away. “Of course not, my Lord. Our mule here is in peak condition.” “Mule?” he questions, peering past us at the wagon pulled by no such creature. “Indeed. Juniper is his name. He has quite a temper on him and refuses to do as he is asked most times,” my master continues, giving me the side-eye and winking. [[Play along.|2.02PlayAlong][$honesty -=5]] [[Tell the Lord we need a horse.][$honesty +=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span><</if>> I wink right back before clearing my throat, looking upon the Lord with curious eyes, “but he does love being pet. Would you like to pet him?” The Lord’s eyes are now large and filled to the brim with confusion. He looks from me to my master, then to where Juniper is supposedly standing. “Would he … like that?” “Of course, just make sure you rub him gently.” My master steps out of the way, allowing the Lord to step up and extend his hand. He does so nervously, throwing both of us a quizzical smile as he begins to pet the air. “Ah!” I scream, causing both him and my master to jump in fright, “you poked him dead in his bad eye.” I throw my arms around the invisible neck of a mule that does not exist, petting his unseen mane. “Now, we will need a horse. No way Juniper can continue like this.” “Poor Juniper,” my master says in mock sadness, wiping away a tear that has yet to form. “I do apologize. I … I’ll go fetch you one of my best horses with haste.” He darts away, calling forth two servants as he goes. “Hmm, I believe we made the Lord forget his station,” my master chuckles, high-fiving me proudly. <a data-passage="2.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Honesty ++</span><</if>> I sigh and roll my eyes hopelessly as Master Audouin dives deeper into the story of Juniper, the never conceived mule, and his miserable life on this planet. As I thought, if my master had ever failed in being a well-rounded witch, he would have an easy enough time becoming a traveling barb. “My master jests,” I tell the Lord with a good-natured laugh, ending my master’s fun and causing him to pout, “we do require a horse, my Lord.” The Lord seems to shake his head, clearing his mind and laughing awkwardly at his own foolery. “Of course, at once,” he states and turns to bark the order to a nearby servant. My master turns to me and pouts, “I was just about to tell him how I came across Juniper.” “You were getting too deeply invested in your own lie,” I tell him, following a great guffaw. “That is why I have you,” he laughs, though the laugh fails to meet his eyes. He sighs wistfully, “to remind an old man that his stories are simply that.” <a data-passage="2.03"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
We wait patiently for the horse to be hooked to the cart, my master entertaining the other nobles as I look over the wagon with glazed eyes. “Well, well, well,” I hear a familiar voice behind me and immediately turn to see Ansellus. <<if $species is "phaizarn">>I sensed the horse but thought they would continue on by, leaving me be.<<else>>I failed to hear him ride up, my mind elsewhere.<</if>> Dressed in casual guard cloth, he looks nothing like the three soldiers that had ridden up alongside him and two other apprentices. His short brown hair had been cut into an awkward style with most of his bangs still intact, but the sides and back trimmed far too short for it to be purposeful. His dark brown eyes look at me expectantly. “I didn’t know you were coming on this journey, $name. How fortunate.” [[“I do believe there’s a ditch to your right.”|2.03JumpInTheDitch][$ansellus -=3; $care +=2]] [[“Can we try and be civil?”|2.03Civil][$ansellus +=3; $hostile -=2]] [[Ignore him.|2.03Ignore]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Emotional ++</span><</if>> I sigh in annoyance, pointing my thumb behind me, “I believe there’s a ditch to your right. Would you mind throwing yourself in it?” “My, what rude words to say,” he mocks, and I simply ignore him. At least then he might get bored and leave me be. I feel his presence on my back, and I wonder if I should turn around and ‘accidentally’ hit him as I do so. Before I can do anything, though, he grabs my arm and forcefully pushes me into the wagon. <<include "2.03.1">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> “Can we and try and be civil, Ansellus? We are both representing Akrisos on this journey, and we are also working.” <<if $insult>>\ “You called me an Alyrian,” he growls, pronouncing the word in disgust. He spits after saying it like that would clean his mouth and rid him of the foul taste. “Only after you accused me of lying and being a crooked $species. If you thought I would just let you insult my name, you have little knowledge of how the world works.” He seems ready to dismount when a soldier calls for him in an annoyed tone. <<else>>\ “You are representing nothing but your own foul interests, witch.” “I fail to recall when you have ever gotten to know what me and my interests are,” I say back, gritting my teeth together in frustration. He seems ready to say something more when a soldier calls for him in an annoyed tone. “Careful, Ansellus. It would seem that your superiors aren’t exactly happy with you. This truce might be beneficial for you.” “I will never sign myself over to some witch.” His refusal to walk away leads to his superiors coming to us, and I stiffen. Would they believe him or me? His way of thinking wasn’t rare. Those who wielded magic were feared but respected for reasons of an apparent nature. I hardly speak to the soldiers here, seeing no reason to – until now, that is. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I continue my work, ignoring him as I do any other time he feels he needs to show his face. Most times, he doesn’t bother me. I’m sure the only reason I even became a potential target is that I have the nerve to stand up to him regarding Isaak. Since then, Ansellus has been as bothersome as a gnat. “Hey,” he shouts, grabbing my arm forcefully and turning me around to face him, pushing me into the wagon. <<include "2.03.1">>
I swat his hand away immediately and push him back a few feet, raising a brow at his actions. Perhaps he is drunk or just hoping that I will end his pathetic existence here and now. “You forget who you mess with,” I tell him, and though he tries to stand his ground, I can see him gulp. He indeed forgot. “Your magic doesn’t scare me, witch.” With a cocky grin, I lean in towards him and say, “I don’t need magic to break something so fragile.” “Ansellus,” one of the soldiers calls out annoyedly. “Your master calls you.” “Don’t think this is over,” he growls. His refusal to immediately turn and see what his superiors want causes them to approach us. And though their attention is set upon Ansellus, I feel myself stiffening. He caused this, but it isn’t unlike Ansellus to lie and say I initiated everything. Would they believe him? Not only am I Uqanan, but I also wield magic. One of those is enough for others to look at me in distrust. Both … <<elseif $species is "cimmerian">>\ My brow wrinkles in anger, and before I can do anything I will later regret, I turn into a shadow and escape his embrace. I manifest on the other side of the wagon, leaning forward to look him over. <<if $hostile >=50>>“You ever touch me again, you will find yourself lacking a hand.”<<else>>“I don’t grab you, so don’t grab me.”<</if>> <<if $hostile >=50>>“Is that a threat?” he questions.<<else>>“And what if I choose to do so again? What then?” he questions.<</if>> I try, but I can’t help the rolling of my eyes. Today could have been such a simple and peaceful day. “Ansellus,” one of the soldiers calls out annoyedly. “Your master calls you.” “Don’t think this is over,” he growls. His refusal to immediately turn and see what his superiors want causes them to approach us. And though their attention is set upon Ansellus, I feel myself stiffening. He caused this, but it isn’t unlike Ansellus to lie and say I initiated everything. Would they believe him? Not only am I Cimmerian, but I also wield magic. One of those is enough for others to look at me in distrust. Both … <<else>>\ <<if $notouchy>>I immediately swat his hand away in disgust and move back a few steps.<<else>>I look from his hand to his face, then back.<</if>> “<<if $hostile >=50>>Don’t you ever touch me again<<else>>I advise you to not touch me, ever<</if>>,” I tell him<<if $notouchy is "all">>.<<else>>, swatting his hand off of me.<</if>> “Or what?” he asks, hoping to push any button he can. Even a blind man can see what he is trying to do, yet I feel myself falling for it. <<if $species is "ecrid">>My insides shift at the sudden emotion, my cheeks heating as I’m sure my nashi is beginning to darken.<<else>><<if $hostile >=50>>So instead I try to cool the anger that undoubtedly shows on my face.<<else>>So, instead, I try to calm myself so that the blossoming anger does not show.<</if>><</if>> “You will lose that hand,” I retort. He laughs, my words lost within a void of other insults and threats that has probably been said to him. “Ansellus,” one of the soldiers calls out annoyedly. “Your master calls you.” “Don’t think this is over,” he growls. His refusal to immediately turn and see what his superiors want causes them to approach us. And though their attention is set upon Ansellus, I feel myself stiffening. He caused this, but it isn’t unlike Ansellus to lie and say I initiated everything. Would they believe him? Ansellus’ way of thinking isn’t rare. Those who wield magic are feared but respected for reasons of an obvious nature. I hardly spoke to the soldiers here, seeing no reason to. But that also means that they don’t know me any more than I knew them. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.04"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Did you not hear us calling for you, boy?” a soldier questions, peering over at me. “My apologies, ?he had disrespected me,” Ansellus states. Their eyes now rest on me, and I feel them each look me over, judging and analyzing me. “What was said?” the previous soldier asks. “Nothing that merits punishment,” my master sighs as he approaches, “simply a young boy whose negative energy festers with each passing day.” He looks back at Ansellus in antipathy before his expression shifts to the three riders and takes on a more respectful hint. “Horace. Shane. Amanda. I wasn’t told that you three fine soldiers would be accompanying us.” “Neither were we told you would be attending, Master Audouin.” “Ah, yes, because we all know how I revel in these things,” he chuckles, peering over at me with a good-natured smile, “my apprentice, $name. No doubt you have seen ?him before when telling the town of the good fortunes soon to come?” Their gazes upon me shift as if somehow those words had elevated me back up from a mere irksome witch to an actual person with a heart and emotions. “You must forgive us. We usually don’t have the pleasure of visiting the town square for such meetings, so we have yet to meet,” the only woman in the group says, giving me a quick nod of greeting. “It is of no consequence. Now, what seems to be the problem here?” “It would seem that your apprentice and ours have some kind of quarrel with one another.” [[“I don’t bicker with those below me.”|2.03BickerWithThoseBelow][$ansellus -=3; $smug +=5]] [[“We have no such thing.” Save us both from whatever punishment may come.|2.03NoQuarrel][$ansellus +=5; $smug -=5]] [[“Your apprentice has the quarrel, I only exist.”|2.03IOnlyExist][$smug -=5]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> I huff, turning my nose as I lean on the wagon behind me, “I don’t bicker with those below me.” My master begins to laugh before immediately attempting to turn it into a cough. He clears his throat and nods at the guards and then gives me a stern, reprimanding look. One of the guards speaks, “listen and listen well. Both of you will remember that we represent not only the Lord on this trip but also Akrisos. You will behave.” [[“Was Ansellus asked for exclusively?”|2.04Exclusive][$smug +=5]] [[“I’m always on my best behavior.”|2.04OnMyBestBehavior][$hostile -=3]] <<if hasVisited("2.03Civil")>>\ [[“I said the same thing.”|2.04HardSame][$ansellus -=2]] <</if>>\ [[Nod.|2.04Nod]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> “I assure you that we have no such thing. Ansellus and I often see things differently, but we still respect one another.” Ansellus gives me a bewildered look but quickly masks it with one of approval and agreement. My master’s bewilderment looks do not vanish as soon, and he simply chooses to roll his eyes. The guards, on the other hand, stay in the dark, our words sating them. One of the guards speaks, “then the two of you behaving on this trip shouldn’t be too much to ask. Remember, we represent not only the Lord but Akrisos as well.” [[“Was Ansellus asked for exclusively?”|2.04Exclusive][$smug +=5]] [[“I’m always on my best behavior.”|2.04OnMyBestBehavior][$hostile -=3]] <<if hasVisited("2.03Civil")>>\ [[“I said the same thing.”|2.04HardSame][$ansellus -=2]] <</if>>\ [[Nod.|2.04Nod]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> “Your apprentice has the quarrel,” I tell them, shifting some of the boxes on the wagon around, “I only exist and would like to keep doing so undisturbed.” <<if $species is "kren" or $species is "phaizarn">>I can hear Ansellus mumble something underneath his voice, a series of curses and lies that cause me to roll my eyes tiredly. It was as if I was forever to be accompanied by a child with a never-ceasing tantrum.<<else>>I can hear Ansellus say something underneath his voice, but I, nor anyone else probably, can make out what he says.<</if>> One of the guards speaks, “regardless. Both of you need to behave on this trip. We represent not only the Lord but Akrisos as well.” [[“Was Ansellus asked for exclusively?”|2.04Exclusive][$smug +=5]] [[“I’m always on my best behavior.”|2.04OnMyBestBehavior][$hostile -=3]] <<if hasVisited("2.03Civil")>>\ [[“I said the same thing.”|2.04HardSame][$ansellus -=2]] <</if>>\ [[Nod.|2.04Nod]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> “Was Ansellus asked for exclusively by the King and the future King? Because I was.” I see my master sigh, hiding his face behind his hand, and the guards give me an indecipherable look. “So, I don’t have to behave,” I point the finger at Ansellus, “he does. Anything else?” The guards frown but say nothing more, ordering Ansellus to come as they turn their horses around and head back. I watch as they go, trying to put off the scolding that my master will probably deliver. I finally turn to him and see him fighting a smile. Once the guards disappear behind a wagon, he finally laughs<<if $notouchy>>.<<else>>, tapping my shoulder.<</if>> “That was something to be remembered. Your words shook all of them to their core,” he tells me, wiping away a tear that wasn’t there. “You’re not mad?” “Mad? For telling soldiers who are literally on their high horse to come off it? No, of course not. Now come, let us make sure this wagon is ready as the Lord seems ready to be off.” <a data-passage="2.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> I muster up my most innocent face, “I’m always on my best behavior. No need to worry about me.” The guards nod, accepting my words before narrowing their eyes on their apprentice. “And you, for once in your life, wear your colors as if you serve them and not the other way around.” They continue to berate Ansellus as they turn their horses around and head to the front of the preparing entourage. I sigh, turning to my master to see if he would chide me for what had happened. He glances at me, shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then focuses on the wagon. “Wait, are you not upset?” “For what? Defending yourself against the likes of him? Of course not. But come, let us make sure this wagon is ready, as the Lord seems ready to be off.” <a data-passage="2.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“You know,” I begin with mock fascination, “I said the same thing. Great minds think alike, it would seem.” The guards don’t seem to share in my amusement, though I do hear the low rumble of laughter escaping my master’s lips. “Great, then we’re all in accord,” one of the guards states, not waiting for an answer from me before turning his attention to Ansellus. “And you, for once in your life, wear your colors as if you serve them and not the other way around.” They continue to berate Ansellus as they turn their horses around and head to the front of the preparing entourage. I sigh, turning to my master to see if he would chide me for what had happened. He glances at me and gives me a toothy grin, his nashi flashing brightly before dimming. “So, you’re not mad?” “I’m simply mad that I couldn’t laugh like I wished to when you said, ‘great minds think alike.’ But no, of course not. Now, if you’re done playing with little boys who have yet to mature, let us make sure this wagon is ready, as the Lord seems ready to be off.” <a data-passage="2.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I say nothing, simply nodding to tell them that I agreed with their words and would do what is needed to keep the peace. Content with my silent accord, they all look down at Ansellus. “And you, for once in your life, wear your colors as if you serve them and not the other way around.” They continue to berate him as they turn their horses around and head to the front of the preparing entourage. I sigh, turning to my master to see if he would chide me for what had happened. He glances at me, shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, and then focuses on the wagon. “Wait, are you not upset?” “For what? Defending yourself against the likes of him? Of course not. But come, let us make sure this wagon is ready, as the Lord seems ready to be off.” <a data-passage="2.05"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I close the curtains on the back of the wagon before taking a seat next to my master, taking the reins from him as we take up the rear of the entourage. The only ones behind us were two soldiers. Thankfully, Ansellus is further ahead. “Hmm, why do you think they put us back here?” my master asks, pulling out his lute as he asks me the question. My eyes widen as he plays, singing a song about a pretty girl with freckles and long golden hair, yet it sounds more like a song about a crooked old hag withering under the sweltering sun. “This is why,” I grumble as I attempt to faze his voice out. Otherwise, I was tempted to throw his lute to the ground and ride off. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The hours tick by, and thankfully my master has long since abandoned his lute, instead opting to view the passing vista. I hear him sigh a couple of times dolefully before I finally question where his mind has veered off to. “Thinking about what was and what will be.” He peers over at me with curiosity glistening in his eyes, “I know we speak little of our pasts, but call me curious. What do you remember about your own?” [[“I was a street kid.”|2.05StreetKid][$stealth +=5; $persuade +=5; $background = "streetkid"]] [[“I was raised by a community mostly.”|2.05Community][$allforone +=10; $fame +=5; $background = "community"]] [[“I’ve been traveling since I can remember.”|2.05Traveler][$allforone -=10; $fame +=10; $knowledge = true; $background = "traveler"]] [[“I was a slave through most of my childhood.”|2.05Slave]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Persuasion ++ / Covertness ++</span><</if>> “I grew up on the streets mainly. But it wasn’t the worst life. When you have eyes like this, it makes it five times easier to get away with things. And if I was ever caught, my eyes spoke for themselves, and everyone thought it was just an accident.” “Those around you couldn’t have fallen for that for long.” “They didn’t, and as soon one person realized that I really could see, I left. I did that for a time.” “And then you began to travel in a more serious manner?” <<include "2.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> “I was raised amongst a community mostly, one not so different from Akrisos. I’m not sure if they took me in because they thought I was blind or because they knew my parents. They never really told me. But they taught me what I needed to know about the world and helped me get started. So I’m grateful for that.” “And then you began to move around?” <<include "2.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> “I don’t remember much. Anything concerning my early years feels like jumbled-up puzzle pieces. Pieces that still don’t know what they want to build. I remember growing up within a small community, and as soon as I was old enough to break away, I did. I was always interested in leaving. I just didn’t know when I would.” “And so your travels started then?” <<include "2.06">>
“I was a slave through most of my childhood before gaining my freedom.” My master’s eyes grow wide at this news, looking at me as if he could’ve never guessed. I suppose it wasn’t the first thing one would think, though it was hardly rare for those in Nidinia, especially since it was legal. “What kind of slave, if you don’t mind my inquisitiveness?” [[“A brothel slave.”|2.05Brothel][$persuade +=5; $honesty -=10; $singing = true; $background = "slave_brothel"]] [[“A gladiator slave.”|2.05Gladiator][$combat +=10; $background = "slave_gladiator"]] [[“A noble slave.”|2.05Noble][$pious +=10; $knowledge = true; $background = "slave_noble"]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Deceitful ++ / Persuasion ++</span><</if>> “I was a brothel slave,” I tell him, “I didn’t do much besides clean and entertain with singing. I learned that I had a great voice there. But I also would give //readings//. Most of them were fake because I needed the ruho more than their trust.” <<if $species is "kren">>\ “Must have been quite an ordeal seeing that you are a Kren.” “Ah, you are familiar with the fixation many have with my species in such places.” “Yes. I have heard the stories.” “They are true. I was lucky since I still had yet to mature, and it showed. Though I do believe if I had been brought at another, not even that would matter.” <<else>>\ “The brothel owner that I worked at was a decent woman or as decent as a woman who bought slaves could be. She took in a few children and others my age, allowing us to work for our freedom.” <</if>>\ “And then you began to travel?” <<include "2.06">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combat ++ / Persuasion ++</span><</if>> “I was a gladiator slave. Mostly I did nothing but clean out the coliseums and other areas, but I also earned ruho by telling the fighters their odds. Those who didn’t have ruho to spare, or just enjoyed my presence, taught me how to fight instead. After a while, I was able to pay for my freedom.” <<if $species is "phaizarn">>\ "Sadly, your story seems to be common amongst your species." "Indeed. Being a Phaizarn at a coliseum is the worse thing you can be. Thankfully, I was able to hide my secret, unlike others." <</if>>\ “And then you began to travel?” <a data-passage="2.06"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Devotion ++</span><</if>> “I was a noble slave, that is to say, that I worked for one of the many noble houses Nidinia recognizes. I did a bunch of odd jobs and errands and cleaned. Because I was a child, I didn’t get into as much trouble as the older slaves, but I still saw my fair of trouble for personality reasons. I was able to work for my freedom.” “And then you began to travel?” <a data-passage="2.06"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Yes. At first, I traveled because I just wanted to see more, so I suppose it was mostly born from curiosity. But later, it was to learn more about my magic, to better understand what I could do. It was only later that I learned that no one could teach me how to control my ludá. Once I figured that out, I just wanted to find a master. You know the rest.” He gives me a subtle smile as he nods. But it quickly disappears when we spot a group of people jump from the woods and attack the wagons further up the road. I immediately stop our horse and rise from my seat, watching as those in the vicinity begin to scream in fright. A few minutes later, I hear metal clashing against metal, and I surmise that the guards are handling the highway bandits. “Should we do something,” I question, glancing down at my master, who sits calmly, but I can tell from his nashi and how his eyes linger on the area that he’s not as cool as he appears. “How confident are you with your combat abilities?” <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ “Ha!” I laugh, a broad sneer on my face, “I’m Uqanan. I was created for combat.” My master raises his brow at my words but otherwise says nothing more. “Then, by all means, help,” he tells me, and I take a step to leave the wagon when the guards behind me rush by. “Stay where you are,” one of them yells as they continue on. “Let us do our job,” the other adds in. I frown, gazing over at my master, who glances at me, interested in what I will do next. [[Help them out.|2.06HelpOut][$combat +=3; $allforone +=3; $guardAnger = true]] [[Stay here.|2.06StayHere][$allforone -=3]] <<else>>\ [[“Quite confident.”|2.06Confident][$combat +=5]] [[“Yea that may be a dumb thought.”|2.06DumbThought]] <</if>>\
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combat ++</span><</if>> I think about my combat magic and my non-magic abilities. “I think I’ll be fine. This wouldn’t be my first tussle.”’ “Then, by all means, help,” he tells me, and I take a step to leave the wagon when the guards behind me rush by. “Stay where you are,” one of them yells as they continue on. “Let us do our job,” the other adds in. I frown, gazing over at my master, who glances at me, interested in what I will do next. [[Help them out.|2.06HelpOut][$combat +=3; $allforone +=3; $guardAnger = true]] [[Stay here.|2.06StayHere][$allforone -=3]]
I withdraw further into my seat, giving him a sideways smile as I think his words over, “yea, maybe it’ll be better if I just leave it to the guards.” As soon as I say this, the two guards stationed behind us gallop by, trying to reassure us that everything would be fine and that they would handle it. I chew on the side of my lip, wondering perhaps if I should really go and lend a hand. [[Help them out.|2.06HelpOut][$combat +=3; $allforone +=3; $guardAnger = true]] [[Stay here.|2.06StayHere][$allforone -=3]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Combat ++ / Chivalrous ++</span><</if>> I hop off the wagon, shouting to my master that I’ll return shortly. “Be careful,” he shouts back. I pass some of the other noble carriages, all of them shrieking from inside, hoping that their precious gems and jewels won’t be touched. I get to the front and survey the situation. The highwaymen were a mix of Uqanan, <<link 'Dreold'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>First, many seem to forget that Dreold is a species but with sub-races. Many simply call them all Dreolds with no regard for the different races within. Dreold means 'small of stature' and consists of a handful of races, many of whom seem to dislike one another. The most common races of Dreold are Iseuzai Dreolds (also known as the Kīn'old), Northern Dreolds, Has-Dreolds, and Mě-Dreolds. * Iseuzai Dreolds can stand between 4' to 4'5 feet and are easy to spot, thanks to their four arms. They are slender built and incredibly quick on their feet. * Northern Dreolds are a stockier build around 4'2 to 4'7 feet. They are incredibly hardy and used to living in rugged terrains such as mountains and the taiga. They have three eyes, the third between their brow. * Has-Dreolds are the smallest of Dreolds and are always 4 feet or shorter. In fact, 4 feet is rare. They come in various sizes and have a much glossier type of skin than other Dreolds. * Mě-Dreolds are the tallest Dreolds and will be between 4'5 to 5' feet. Typically they have either one or two heads, though it's not rare to spot some with three. They are quite friendly though exceedingly lazy.<</dialog>><</link>>, and Alyrian. <<if $knowledge>>\ I shouldn’t be surprised by the presence of Dreolds, though, to be more specific, the race known as Kīn'old. I had never known a group of thieves that didn’t hold at least one of the race. It wasn’t a shock either; the Kīn'old looked like they were made exclusively to give the inhabitants of Jiwenia something to watch out for. They were short and slender creatures with four arms, two quick feet, a witty mouth, and a clever mind. Their ability to get into trouble was mind-blowing, and their ability to get out even more so. I wouldn’t be surprised that even if we managed to run them off that they had already stolen a trunk worth of valuables. <<else>>\ I shouldn’t be surprised by the presence of Dreolds. I had never known a group of thieves that didn’t hold at least one of the short species. It wasn’t a shock either. The Dreolds looked like they were made exclusively to give the inhabitants of Jiwenia something to watch out for. They were short creatures; most of the ones I've spotted are thin. They are short and slender creatures with four arms, two quick feet, a witty mouth, and a clever mind. Their ability to get into trouble was mind-blowing, and their ability to get out even more so. I wouldn’t be surprised that even if we managed to run them off that they had already stolen a trunk worth of valuables. <</if>>\ When I get within range, I scope out the situation. Three guards were taking on the Uqanan, and they were suffering tremendously. Two of them, one of them being Ansellus, fight with two Alyrians. And lastly, two guards attempt to grab hold of the nimble <<if $knowledge>>Kīn'olds.<<else>>Dreolds.<</if>> [[Help take them all out.|2.06Offense][$fight +=10]] [[Make sure everyone stays safe.|2.06Defense][$fight -=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Offender ++</span><</if>> My offensive magic was still a work in progress, one that didn’t receive as much attention as other areas purely because I didn’t need it. I would have to be careful not to drain myself, but I was confident that I could. I recall one such spell that sends out multiple energy balls. Thinking even harder, I can think of two spells now. One is random, I release the energy, but their targets are random, while the other will allow me to home in on the marks and send them all forward. But, of course, that always takes a great deal of energy on my part. [[Home in on the targets.|2.06OffHomeIn][$tired = true; $energy -=15]] [[Let the spell randomly choose.|2.06OffRandomSpell]]
I take a calm, deep breath in as I murmur the words. Immediately, I feel the magic within me gather before surging out. Each individual streak shoots through the sky, forming into a ball. Before, at last, it makes contact with its target, hitting them and causing them to be knocked off their feet and sent flying back. I’m unable to truly celebrate as I watch with a crooked painful grin, one eye closed as my chest feels like it is currently being rung like a giant temple bell. I focus on my breathing, finally gaining some semblance of control as I gaze around. Realizing a witch exists among the caravan, the thieves scatter and head back into the nearby forest; even the Uqanan flees from the fight. <a data-passage="2.06.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I didn’t like to play around with my magic. I never know if I will need it in the nearing future. So, I decided to simply go with the primary part of the spell. I take a calm, deep breath in as I murmur the words. Immediately, I feel the magic within me gather before surging out. Each individual streak shoots through the sky, forming into a ball. Before, at last, it makes contact with its target. Some of those targets are the actual thieves; others are the ground or nearby trees. Even Ansellus finds himself the target of one particular ball. The balls that do hit the thieves, and Ansellus, cause them to be knocked off their feet and sent flying back. Realizing a witch exists among the caravan, the shaken thieves scatter and head back into the nearby forest. <a data-passage="2.06.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Defender ++</span><</if>> My defensive magic was still a work in progress. It didn’t receive as much attention as the other areas purely because I didn’t need it as much. Taking a deep breath in, I recall a simple spell that allowed me to create small shields whenever I wished to, though this spell came with two different parts. The primary spell allows for small shields to be cast, but an addition enables those shields to to stay up, continually being fed by the witch’s mana, which isn’t always a wise move. [[Create shields that need to be managed.|2.06DefManage]] [[Create the shields that stay up on their own.|2.06DefOwn][$tired = true; $energy -=15]]
I take a calm, deep breath in as I murmur the words. Immediately, I feel the magic within me gather before surging towards my awaiting hands. I direct them to the soldiers, only being able to maintain the shields of a few. Sometimes, the shield will go down as I focus my attention on the other, always trying to do it as soon as the soldier is about to be hit. Some soldiers suffer more than others, mainly Ansellus and the other apprentice recruit fighting close by. Realizing that there is a witch amongst the caravan, the thieves scatter and head back into the nearby forest. I exhale in thanks, quieting the magic and expelling the spell. <a data-passage="2.06.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I take a calm, deep breath in as I murmur the words. Immediately, I feel the magic within me gather before surging towards my awaiting hands. I direct them in front of every soldier fighting. Each time the thieves go to hit them, the attack is absorbed by the shield. Realizing that there is a witch among the caravan and the fact that they wouldn’t be able to win this battle, the thieves scatter and head back into the nearby forest. I’m unable to truly celebrate as I watch with a crooked painful grin, one eye closed as my chest feels like it is currently being rung like a giant temple bell. I focus on my breathing, finally gaining some semblance of control as I gaze around. <a data-passage="2.06.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Oh, thank the High Gods for your presence, $name,” the Lord of Akrisos states, jumping out from the shelter of his carriage. He encompasses my hand with both of his, shaking it desperately as if wishing to test my arm’s stability. “No problem, my Lord,” I tell him, yanking my hand out of his grasp and giving him a sideways glance. I roll my shoulder around before noticing others who have abandoned their carriages to gather around and thank me. “Did you see how they ran?” the Lord asks, turning to the nobles with a great smile. My eyes wander over to the guards, who glare at me through narrowed eyes. If anyone should be thanking me, it should be them, but I suppose doing their job for them is too much for them to handle. I head back, unable to keep the wide smile off my face. My master’s gaze isn’t set on me, though, but on the two guards that had galloped by earlier before I set off to join them. They glance at me for a quick minute before looking straight, not bothering to look over at us again. “Be careful that you do not earn their ire,” my master tells me under his breath, “guards and soldiers are not known to show those who upstage them the same respect and glory as others.” <<if $smug >=50>> “Then they need a new profession,” I joke,<<else>> “Yes, Master Audouin,” I reply,<</if>> taking the reins into my hands and motioning for the horse to begin moving again. <a data-passage="2.07"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Individualistic ++</span><</if>> I remain seated, hoping that the guard’s words hold truth. I look over at my master, who still seems interested in the development further ahead of us, yet remains eerily calm. “Are you worried? You don’t seem worried?” “For them, yes. For us and anyone nearby, no.” “Why?” “Do you forget that this wagon is warded? My protection and attack wards are still very much active.” I smirk and cock my thumb in the direction of those being attacked. “I’m sure they would’ve loved the same wards.” “I agree, but only a few allowed me to ward their wagons. The others wished to leave their fate in the hands of the guards.” So that was what he had been doing when he left my side. I simply thought he wished to entertain the nobles. I suppose that is a foolish enough thought on its own. Knowing my master, he would rather amuse a pack of wolves. I’m not sure of all the happenings that take place. I hear a scream and shout here, the sound of swords clashing there, and then silence. A few minutes tick by before the guards from before trot back. They bring with them the news that the bandits have been dealt with. “Anyone in need of healing?” my master questions, but he gets no answer. We gaze at one another, rolling our eyes and shrugging our shoulders uncaringly. I grab the reins and motion for the horse to begin moving again. <a data-passage="2.07"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $background is "slave_noble">>\ The rest of the ride is both short and uneventful. The closer we get to the kingdom’s gates, the more caravans we join as the branching roads merge into one. Due to my past as a noble slave, whether I wish to forget it or not, I still know most of the houses that hold rank in Nidinia. <<else>>\ The rest of the ride is both short and uneventful. The closer we get to the kingdom’s gates, the more caravans we join as the branching roads merge into one. I haven’t brushed up on the houses that hold rank in Nidinia, and so many of the flags that I see the guards bearing have me drawing a blank. Though they are no less exquisite to gawk at. <</if>>\ One caravan bears the colors that one would associate with the ocean. A lively orange and sapphire blend beautifully together whenever they touch. The centerpiece on the wheels looks like large pearls, and on top of the curved sandy-colored carriage, the roof is colorful variations of coral and algae draped in seaweed. Even the two horses that pull the lead carriage don intricate costumes that remind me of majestic seahorses. <<if $background is "slave_noble">>\ Try as I might, this particular house I can not put a name to. The inability to do so grates my nerves. <</if>>\ “Do you know what house that is?” I question, nodding at the caravan mere feet from our own. “No,” my master immediately states, his golden eyes flashing to the wagon for a second before returning to the book in his hands. “I don’t usually concern myself with learning the rises and falls of the nobility, especially in a place such as Nidinia.” “Why is that?” “Some of these houses are as old as Nidinia, that is true. But many of them spring up and disappear within months, always overtaken by a neighbor or killed off by some rival no one knew existed.” His gaze shifts to the threshold that we are moments away from passing under. “Out of all the countries I have visited, none come close to Nidinia and its duplicity. Assassination, plotting, betrayal - they see it as a game. Their only concern is who can play it the best.” [[“Seems like a good way to keep oneself on their toes.”|2.07StayOnToes]] [[“And when they end up bleeding on the ground?”|2.07BleedingOut]] [[“Why don’t I hear about this?”|2.07HearAboutIt]] [[“Who would choose to live like that?”|2.07WhoLiveLikeThat]] <<if $background is "slave_noble">>\ [[“Those I worked under didn’t seem like they played.”|2.07SomeNoPlay]] <</if>>\
I shrug, not really seeing the big deal, “it seems like a good way to keep oneself on their toes.” My master obviously doesn’t share that sentiment. But he doesn’t push the subject. <<include "2.08">>
I snort. The idea is ridiculous, “and when they end up bleeding all alone on the ground?” My master shrugs, the idea sickening him as much as it does me, “then I suppose they realized they lost. I wouldn’t be shocked if they even tried to turn their own death into something their family could use.” <<include "2.08">>
I cock my head slightly, “why haven’t I heard about this game then?” “You don’t run in the same social circles as they. There’s no need for you to know anything about it,” he answers plainly. <<include "2.08">>
I poke my bottom lip out in thought, “those that I worked under didn’t seem like they played.” “Did they host other houses whatsoever? Or did anyone die mysteriously?” “No one ever died mysteriously, but they did, on occasion, host other houses. Never enough to seem more than just friendly nobles.” “Hmm, then they were horrible players, is all. Nobles beg for mysterious deaths. It means that their house will be on everyone’s lips, if even for a week. No noble is exempt.” <<include "2.08">>
My eyes grace one wagon after another, unable to grasp what he had said, “who would choose to live like that?” “Well, obviously nobles,” my master replies with a light snicker. “Well, yes. But what I mean is why. Why would anyone choose to live in constant stress and danger like that?” He shrugs indifferently, “perhaps it gets boring when you’re that close to the top. Or maybe once there, they learn that it’s much harder to stay there than get there. Or maybe all nobles like the thrill, similar to why a hunter hunts or an assassin kills.” He spares me a look that states that he cares little for whatever reason exists for such behavior. <<include "2.08">>
I glance at the wagons before us, “do you believe our lord believes the same?” “No doubt. Any person with a noble title has played the game, and they all think they play it well.” “How does one know if they are good at it?” We make it to the large open gateway that symbolizes the entrance to Ipharia. “Welcome to Ipharia,” I hear a voice on top of the walls shout, though their voice almost gets drowned out by trumpets singing. It’s a beautiful melody, welcoming, and grand. Flags of the different houses pass us as we go, though Nidinia’s flag is the greatest one. Further ahead, guards stand at attention, the flags of the royal family flying in all of their grips. “They know because they’re living,” I hear my master whisper. For a minute, I’m unsure what he is alluding to until I remember my question. I gaze over at him, but he makes sure not to look at me. The words existing on the paper in his hands are much more fascinating. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The streets are garnished with paper streamers, flags, and colorful lanterns. Large pennants hang between the gaps between buildings, portraying the royal colors, while banners adorn the front of businesses and houses with Ipharia’s sigil. A panther with its maw open, roaring. The fountain in the square shoots out gusts of water and colored mist, earning eye rolls from the adults but ecstatic giggles from the children that dash around it. I listen to the screams of merchants as they attempt to sell their wares and watch as jesters stand on top of buildings, throwing small candies and trinkets to those below. Musicians play on a distant stage, the music full of high energy and delightful notes. I can barely hear their lively tune over all the cacophony of those in the crowd. “Hmm, this is a good crowd,” my master says, his lips partially parting as he stares at them, “I wonder how many would be interested in some goods.” He gazes over at me and I, in turn, gaze from the still moving procession to the buoyant square. <<if $tired is false>>\ [[Try to sell some goods in the square.|2.08SellGoods][$sellstuff = true]] <</if>>\ [[Continue on with the rest of the caravan.|2.08ContinueWCaravan]]
The caravan is moving slowly, and I doubt anyone will miss us. Seeing that my master is here and not at his store, he will need to make some ruho to make up for a few days of a closed shop. With a broad smile, I nod and turn the horse so that it is now moving further into the square. “What are you doing?” a guard questions. “What does it look like?” my master asks, huffing in irritation. Both guards appear shocked, but neither attempt to stop us, not that they can. I continue moving further into the square, stopping once we are out of the way of the moving line of carriages and enough in the square to be noticed. I move to the back, throwing open the curtains surrounding our wagon. [[Announce the two of you.|2.08AnnounceTheTwo][$smug +=5; $fame +=2]] [[Stay quiet and prepare the wagon.|2.08StayQuiet][$smug -=5]]
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "phaizarn">><<set $fame +=2>><</if>> <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++</span><</if>> <</nobr>>\ <<if $species is "phaizarn">>\ I shift into my sabertooth form, making my way back to the top of the wagon before releasing the loudest roar I can muster. The majority of people in the area look my way, and I shift back, bowing. “Now that I got your attention,” I chuckle, a few in the crowd doing as well, “have you ever felt the weight of the world on your shoulders, or have you ever grown weary with how mischievous Lady Luck can be and wish to just have a great day?” More and more people approach as I give out scenario after scenario. Finally, I drop to the ground and clear my throat, everyone’s eyes on me. <<else>>\ “Hear ye, hear ye,” I shout to the crowd, many stopping with curious eyes to see the happenings. I stand on the edge, balancing myself as I continue, “have you ever felt the weight of the world on your shoulders, or have you ever grown weary with how mischievous Lady Luck can be and wish to just have a great day?” More and more people approach as I give out scenario after scenario. Finally, I drop to the ground and clear my throat, everyone’s eyes on me. <</if>>\ “Then look no further, for Audouin’s Charms and Potions can supply you with the magical touch you need. Whether lifting a curse or blessing yourself with sound sleep, if you need it, we have it. So step up, one at a time, though. Tell us what you need, or if you want a reading done, then please.” As soon as I say this, Master Audouin plops down a large stool and small square table in front of me, “take a seat. Only 10 ruho for these readings.” “Are you the Dream Seer?” I hear someone scream, their face lost amongst the crowd. The group begins to mumble at the accusation, the energy rising even further as they look on in hope. I smirk and do a half curtsy, “I am. The blind one that sees the future within ?his dreams. Here to tell the beautiful city of Ipharia of its glorious future.” The crowd whoops and hollers, my master rolling his eyes, still smiling. If I can use my own name and popularity to boost sales, why not? It was as if I had snapped my fingers and thrust open what were once locked shutters, giving these people the air they needed to survive. Excitement courses through them as they attempt to form a line. Some stand before the table for a reading, while many others look through the charms, potions, and other trinkets that my master has brought with him. In no time, we sell half of the wares and earn more coin than we ever would in a day in Akrisos. <<include "2.08SellWares2">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++</span><</if>> I move out of the way so that Master Audouin can grab the crowd’s attention, as he does this, I continue prepping. It is rare that I ever see this side of him, the loud and extravagant side. When he is like this, he reminds me more of an entertainer and less of a seasoned witch with mastery of all the specialty branches. He takes the deck of tarot cards I hand to him and tells all who wish to receive a reading to form a separate line. Immediately upon him finishing, the crowd acts. Some stand before the table for a reading, while an equal number of others look through the charms, potions, and other trinkets that my master has brought with him. In no time we sell half of the wares and earn more coin than we ever would in a day in Akrisos. <<include "2.08SellWares2">>
When we’re packed back up, we’re lucky to find that the never-ending caravan is indeed never-ending. It is less crowded, and there are gaps as they roll in, so we simply roll in behind them. We continue through the streets, the festive spirit never wavering. Of course, there aren’t thousands of people here dancing and shouting, nor are there any jesters standing on rooftops or musicians playing. Yet the same spirit found in the square shows itself here in the décor. “I will get sick and tired of the royal colors before the week is up,” my master grumbles, and that I can agree with. Everywhere we look, we see the familiar colors of navy blue, silver, and white. If one never knew the royal colors, then they will never be able to forget them after today. <a data-passage="2.08.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $tired>>\ I am much too tired to do anything more than just lay down. The festival isn’t going anywhere. We have plenty of time to sell the wares he has brought along. “I feel far too tired to deal with customers,” I tell him, a yawn accompanying my explanation. He doesn’t argue, but he does huff. I’m sure that his main goal is to just leave this accursed caravan; selling wares is merely an added bonus. <<else>>\ I take one last look at the crowd before setting my gaze on the carriage in front of us. I believe it wiser to just stay with the others, lest we miss out on some vital information or where we will stay. The festival isn’t going anywhere. We have plenty of time to sell the wares he had brought along. “I think it’s smarter to stay with the line,” I tell him. He doesn’t argue, but he does huff. I’m sure that his main goal is to just leave this accursed caravan; selling wares is merely an added bonus. <</if>>\ We continue through the streets, the festive spirit never wavering. Of course, there aren’t thousands of people here dancing and shouting, nor are there any jests standing on rooftops or musicians playing. But yet, the same spirit that could be found in the square shows itself here in the décor. “I will get sick and tired of the royal colors before the week is up,” my master grumbles, and that I can’t agree with. Everywhere we look, we see the familiar colors of navy blue, silver, and purple. If one never knew the royal colors, then they would never be able to forget them after today. <a data-passage="2.08.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Finally, we stop, a servant approaching with a checklist in hand. <<if $sellstuff>>\ “May I have your names, please?” he questions, looking at the wagon we ride on. His expression is one of limited disgust and disapproval. He perhaps is trying to understand why we are here when it is evident that neither of us is of the noble houses. <<else>>\ “I am to assume that you are with Lord Benedict’s entourage, correct?” he questions. <</if>>\ “We are Master Audouin and Apprentice $name $surname,” I tell him, and he pauses, flipping the page in his hand over. “Ah, here you are. If you will please continue forward, there is a servant at the castle that will show you to your rooms.” “We’re sleeping in the castle?” I question, leaning forward as if this is a secret that needs to stay between the two of us. “Of course. You are the King’s special guests. He would have it no other way.” We thank the servant and continue forward<<if $sellstuff>>.<<else>>, catching sight of the Lord’s party going a separate way.<</if>> <<if $smug >=50>>“You hear that,” I say to my master with a smug smile, “we’re the King’s guests.”<<else>>“Great,” I say, attempting to give my master my brightest smile though my insides are doing flip after flip.<</if>>\ <<if $smug >=50>>“Such grand news,”<<else>>“Yes, such fantastic news,”<</if>> he sighs, massaging his temples. <<if $empathy >=50>>\ Despite my master having admirable control of his own emotions, he cannot keep hidden from me the frustration that squirms through the cracks. It isn’t necessarily frustration towards me but for the predicament. His dislike for nobles and their world travels deeper than I have previously suspected. <</if>>\ [[“What’s up with you?”|2.08WhatUpWithYou]] [[“Aw, cheer up dad!”|2.08AwDad][$dad = true; $audouin +=1]] <<if $empathy >=50>>\ [[“Anything I can do to make this better?”|2.08MakeThisBetter]] <</if>>\ [[Leave him to his feelings.|2.08LeavetoFeelings]]
“Alright,” I sigh, “what’s wrong with you. I know you don’t want to be here but is everything truly so bad?” “I simply do not wish to be so close to the nobility and their petty games. My existence is minor, and I wish to keep it that way. You have seen my hut. I am a creature who needs very little to be happy. In fact, the less it is, the happier I am.” He looks the castle over, his eyes taking on a hint of sadness while his nashi darkens, “I simply want my hut.” [[“I understand.”|2.08Understand]] [[“Keep your grim thoughts to yourself then.”|2.08GrimThoughts]] [[“Whatever you say.”|2.08WhateverYouSay]]
“I understand what you mean, but can you at least not say that to the king’s face. I’m sure he won’t be delighted about you thinking so little in regards to his kindness.” “Well, the king can take his kindness and stick it up –” I stop him as a servant appears, cutting off what would be a vulgar phrase from my master. <<include "2.09">>
“Well, keep your grim thoughts to yourself then. I will not befall the same punishment as you simply because you knew not when to be quiet.” My master doesn’t respond. Instead, he glares at a servant that approaches us. <<include "2.09">>
“Whatever you say,” I smirk, my eyes landing on a servant that walks our way, waving his hand in greeting. <<include "2.09">>
I nudge my master playfully with a jovial smile and say, “aw, cheer up, dad.” My eyes widen at the title that slips so easily past parted lips. My master raises a brow and spares me an amused look. Before he can say anything, I shake my head and say, “I meant master. Master Audouin.” “No, no,” he laughs, “you called me dad. $name, do you see me as a father figure?” [[“Do you see me as one of your children?”|2.8DadChild]] [[“Yes.”|2.8DadYes][$playcatch = true]] [[“Oh, leave me alone”|2.8DadLeaveMeAlone]]
“Do you see me as your ?son?” I question, turning the question right back on him. I don’t expect him to answer, but the look of contemplation that crosses his face proves that he probably will. “Honestly, I think I do. Yes.” He looks ready to say more when a servant approaches us, causing Master Audouin to keep his thoughts to himself. <<include "2.09">>
I turn to him with the straightest face that I can muster, “yes.” My master lets out a boisterous laugh, attempting to regain control of himself. “Know what this means?” he asks, nudging me playfully, “we have to play catch now.” “Oh, let’s do it,” I reply, noticing the servant coming our way, but even I can’t control my laughter. “When we get back to Akrisos then.” That is the last thing he says before the servant is upon us, and we do our best to compose ourselves. <<include "2.09">>
“A servant is coming over. Leave me alone,” I growl, resting my attention on the servant as I do my best to ignore my master’s consistent stare and the smug smile he wears. <<include "2.09">>
“Is there anything I can do to make this better?” I question. His frustration causes my emotions to twist and churn in much the same way. His golden eyes widen, and he gives me an apologetic look. As soon as I receive this look, my emotions seem to restart themselves, as if someone had just taken whatever they were reacting to and sent it away. “No. And do not allow my own feelings about this to get in the way of you enjoying yourself. Continue to be you, and I shall be fine,” he says, giving me a tired smile. I nod, my eyes landing on a servant that walks our way, waving his hand in greeting. <a data-passage="2.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $species is "ecrid">>\<<set $empathy -=5>><</if>>\ I don’t question him. I knew that he didn’t want to come but felt obligated. No one wanted to intentionally anger the king. Instead, I focus on a servant who casually approaches us with a warm smile. <a data-passage="2.09"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“Greetings, may I have your name?” “$name,” my master grumbles loud enough to hear. “Ah, the Dream Seer. Please, follow me. We will see to your wagon and horse.” “I’d feel more comfortable staying with the wagon to lock everything up,” my master tells the man, throwing me a small smile, “but you join him. I shall find you later.” I grab my things and leave the wagon, following the servant past the gateway and onto the castle’s grounds. Surrounding us is a field of green grass, freshly cut and impeccable. No doubt magic has a hand in keeping the grass this radiant and evenly trimmed. Forest green shrubs of different heights and widths rest around the area, framing the light gray and blue mosaic pebble walkway. In the center of it is a large circular fountain sitting in a larger rectangular pond that holds lily pads and musical frogs. I watch as birds swoop down to drink from the water or bathe themselves. The castle itself is a grand building of colossal size. Never in my life have my eyes fallen onto a building of this magnitude and grandeur. The crème color of the stone that makes up most of the castle glistens under the sun, reflecting off the stained-glass, silvery windows. The castle’s roof is the same navy blue as the royal flags, and coned rooftops give way to a single banner that waves down to me. We enter, and I again take a moment to let the interior take my breath away. Marble flooring and pristine white walls. The only natural colors are those of the furniture, glass sculpted lights hanging from the high ceilings, and the banners and paintings that give further life to the room. “Come, come,” the servant tells me and navigates me towards some stairs, “would you like to hear about some history regarding this place?” [[“Please, do tell.”|2.09DoTell]] [[“Uh, no thanks.”|2.09NoThanks]]
The servant beams brightly, my words surely making his day. He clears his voice and motions his hand to the room. “The castle is named Ipharia Dome, named after the architect, Ragiazi Dome, who designed and saw to its completion. Dome was also a member of the extended royal family, and the castle was a gift to his dear cousin. It was completed in 5 Divide, which was also around the same time Ipharia was declared the capital of our dear Nidinia. The castle took roughly twenty years to finish due to weather and resources. The number one resource used, marble, isn’t native to Nidinia, so trade had to be set up between the other countries. Though trade was already an ongoing thing, this prompted a new trading agreement and led to strengthening Ipharia’s economy.” He continues on, speaking about the structure of the castle and some of the paintings that adorn the walls. He jumps from topic to topic, and I nod and hum as I follow along, taking in all he says. “And this will be your room during the stay,” he finally says after we march down a long hallway and stop at a thick cedar door. “Your things will be brought up to the room promptly. If you need anything, please don’t be afraid to ask one of the many servants that you might see walking around. The slaves will not answer you. They are warned against speaking to others.” I raise a brow at his words, but he doesn’t catch it, continuing on until finally leaving my presence. <a data-passage="2.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I was captivated and didn’t wish for that to be ruined by a history lesson. That, and I am okay with silence as I take my new surroundings in. I tell him this, and he nods in respect, though I see him pout. Perhaps I am the first to ever say no. Or he just wishes to reveal his in-depth knowledge to someone, and he will now have to wait longer to do such a thing. “And this will be your room during the stay,” he finally says after we march down a long hallway and stop at a thick cedar door. “Your things will be brought up to the room promptly. If you need anything, please don’t be afraid to ask one of the many servants that you might see walking around. The slaves will not answer you. They are warned against speaking to others.” I raise a brow at his words, but he doesn’t catch it, continuing on until finally leaving my presence. <a data-passage="2.10"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I open the door and look the room over, knowing that I will probably never have such lavish sleeping conditions again. The entire place is made up of calm colors that match the scheme of the castle’s exterior. The full-sized traditional canopy bed rests on the farthest wall, its blankets a stone blue, pillows a dull yellow or gold, and the canopy that veils the bed a soft buttermilk tone. The rest of the room is filled with cedarwood furnishings, or it borrows the same shade of blue to make up the ornamental wallpapers. The welcoming ceremony will take place later tonight, allowing me a few hours of much-needed rest. I go over to the bed and try it out, finding that it is even more comfortable than it looks. Everything is luxurious, and as I begin to rest my eyes, I wonder what such comfort will cost me. <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> I gaze over the attire that hangs in the ample wardrobe. All three outfits reside in colors that represent Nidinia in some kind of form and look as if they cost a fortune. A knock on my door shakes me from my thoughts, and a voice soon follows, “whenever you’re ready, Ser, I will escort you to the ballroom.” I look back at the choices hanging before me. [[Go for the dress.|2.10Dress]] [[Go for the suit.|2.10Suit]] [[Go for the vest outfit.|2.10Vest]] [[Stay in my own clothes.|2.10StayClothes]]
The dress is a lovely cloud grey with bold navy blue and bright purple designs. There are no sleeves, and though no collar, a thin translucent cape is paired with it, a pattern featuring Nidinia’s royal sigil decorating it. The dress itself, when held up to my own figure, seems like it will stop right as it hits the ground, the cape dragging along. [[Choose the Ipharian Dress.|2.11][$outfit = true]] [[Go for the suit instead.|2.10Suit]] [[Go for the vest outfit instead.|2.10Vest]] [[Stay in my own clothes.|2.10StayClothes]]
The suit was made up by navy blue trousers, a cream undershirt, and a button surcoat that held a mix of patterns and whose main colors were a sharp silver and a mildly saturated purple. [[Choose the Ipharian Suit.|2.11][$outfit = true]] [[Go for the dress instead.|2.10Dress][$outfit = true]] [[Go for the vest outfit instead.|2.10Vest]] [[Stay in my own clothes.|2.10StayClothes]]
The suit is made up of navy blue trousers, a cream undershirt, and a button surcoat that holds a mix of patterns and whose primary colors are a sharp silver and a mildly saturated purple. The vest outfit has what I expect it to consist of. Long navy blue harlem pants with a slit on both sides of the pants, going from lower thigh to mid-calf. A plain colored undershirt intended to be tucked into pants and a lively purple buttoned half-vest. While the front of the vest stops at the top of the waist in the front, the back does not end until it reaches past the butt. Lastly, there is a customary shoulder shaw, routinely with such an outfit but not always needed. [[Choose the Ipharian Vest Oufit.|2.11][$outfit = true]] [[Go for the dress instead.|2.10Dress][$outfit = true]] [[Go for the suit instead.|2.10Suit]] [[Stay in my own clothes.|2.10StayClothes]]
After looking all of the options over, unable to fathom the price of one piece alone, I make up my mind to wear what I am currently in. I am much more comfortable in it, and it also doesn’t put me further in debt to the royal family. <a data-passage="2.11"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
With my attire now chosen, I turn my attention to my hair. I <<if $hair is "bald">>am bald, so besides some simple moisturizing, not much is to be done.<<else>> have $hl, $hc <<if $hair is "braids">>braided<<elseif $hair is "dreads">>dreaded<<else>>$hair<</if>> hair. <<message 'Click here for specific species info about hair color'>>\ <<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ A Cimmerian's hair color is opposite of their skin tone, darker skin = lighter hair; lighter skin = darker hair. <<elseif $species is "uqanan">>\ Though all colors listed are fine, Uqanan typically see shades of brown, black, and red. <<else>>\ All the hair options is suitable and common for $species. <</if>> <</message>>\ ''Type of hair'' <<if ndef $hair>><<set $hair = "wavy">><</if>><<listbox "$hair">> <<option "Straight" "straight" `$hair == "straight" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Curly" "curly" `$hair == "curly" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Wavy" "wavy" `$hair == "wavy" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Kinky" "kinky" `$hair == "kinky" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Braids" "braids" `$hair == "braids" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Dreads" "dreads" `$hair == "dreads" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Bald" "bald" `$hair == "bald" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Length of Hair'' <<if ndef $hl>><<set $hl = "long">><</if>><<listbox "$hl">> <<option "Short" "short" `$hl == "short" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Medium" "medium" `$hl == "medium" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Long" "long" `$hl == "long" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ''Color of hair'' <<if ndef $hc>><<set $hc = "black">><</if>><<listbox "$hc">> <<option "Black" "black" `$hc == "black" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Dark Brown" "dark brown" `$hc == "dark brown" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Light Brown" "light brown" `$hc == "light brown" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Red" "red" `$hc == "red" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Dark Blonde" "dark blonde" `$hc == "dark blonde" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Light Blonde" "light blonde" `$hc == "light blonde" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Blonde" "blonde" `$hc == "blonde" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Grey" "grey" `$hc == "grey" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "White" "white" `$hc == "white" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> ([[Reload Page|2.11]]) <a data-passage="2.11.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The servant that escorts me is quieter than the one before. She simply asks me if everything in the room is to my liking and then begins to lead me away. Striking up a conversation is fruitless. She merely answers with little, if no, emotion in her voice. I assume that this is how many of them will react, perhaps used to nobles who have no interest in anything they have to say. I join hundreds of others in a dazzling ballroom. Large crystal chandeliers hang from ceilings, depicting scenes I don’t have time to decipher. Few are dancing; most seem content with milling about and discussing things with their peers. Everything looked so extravagant, from the decor to the garments that those in attendance wore. Here, luxury had no price. My eyes widen like a dragon’s looking upon a treasure cache. To think that I am standing amongst those of such a lavish lifestyle, that I walk amongst them as an equal. “Excuse me,” the man beside me says, capturing my attention as he gazes at my attire. <<if $outfit>>\ “Invitation, please.” I retrieve it and hand it over. I surmise that he believes me since he didn’t even look at the item he requested, he just adds it to a pile. “May I have a name to introduce?” [[“Just my fullname is fine.”][$fame +=3]] [[“Apprentice.”]] [[“The Dream Seer.”][$fame +=5]] <<if $outfit is false>>\ [[“Some lost blind person will do.”]] <</if>>\ <<else>>\ “I’m sorry, but you have wandered off to the wrong place, your … disability has led you astray it would seem.” [[“Nope, you look like a stable boy to me.”]] [[“You’re the one to talk.”]] [[“So, that’s how you treat guests?”]] [[“I’m in the right place.”]] <</if>>\
“Hmm,” I begin, tapping my chin and looking the man up and down in disinterest. With my assessment done, and my judgment passed, I shrug and smirk, “nope, you still look very much like a stable boy to me.” His eyes widen in astonishment, “I beg your pardon.” I lean towards him, my face in a cool expression, as I slap my invitation to his chest, “then beg.” Before he can mutter a rebuttal, a guard behind him loses his composure and utters a quick laugh. He quickly regains himself, clearing his throat and looking straight ahead. “Just introduce me before you embarrass yourself further,” I finally state, straightening up as I again rest my attention on those dancing below. “May I have a name to introduce?” [[“Just my fullname is fine.”][$fame +=3]] [[“Apprentice.”]] [[“The Dream Seer.”][$fame +=5]] <<if $outfit is false>>\ [[“Some lost blind person will do.”]] <</if>>\
I snort, as I look him up and down, “you’re the one to talk about clothing. Even with my ‘disability,’ I can see the stains that line your suit, as well as the fact that it’s two sizes far too small. Your handkerchief is folded wrong, and I do believe your lapels are in a state of disarray along with your socks.” As he tries desperately to hide his embarrassment and fix the problems that I pointed out, I grab my invitation and have it at the ready. When he sees it, his cheeks flush even darker with the understanding that this moment will probably haunt him for a few nights. “May I have a name to introduce?” [[“Just my fullname is fine.”][$fame +=3]] [[“Apprentice.”]] [[“The Dream Seer.”][$fame +=5]] <<if $outfit is false>>\ [[“Some lost blind person will do.”]] <</if>>\
“So, that’s how you treat your guests?” I question as I reach for the invitation that I had brought along. I assumed that they would like to see it but didn’t fathom that this would be how they would ask for it. Whatever words he was planning to say, died on the tip of his tongue as he looked my invitation over. “I’m so deeply sorry,” he tells me, being able to add nothing further. He was only sorry that he had said what he did before knowing of my invitation, he felt nothing regarding his actual words. “May I have a name to introduce?” [[“Just my fullname is fine.”][$fame +=3]] [[“Apprentice.”]] [[“The Dream Seer.”][$fame +=5]] <<if $outfit is false>>\ [[“Some lost blind person will do.”]] <</if>>\
I hand the invitation that I had brought along, to him, “I’m in the right place. Unless there’s another grand ballroom.” It was meant as a joke, something to ease the tension that existed in both of our shoulders, but all it earns me is a raised brow. “May I have a name to introduce?” [[“Just my fullname is fine.”][$fame +=3]] [[“Apprentice.”]] [[“The Dream Seer.”][$fame +=5]] <<if $outfit is false>>\ [[“Some lost blind person will do.”]] <</if>>\
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Notoriety ++</span> <</if>>\ “Just $name $surname is fine.” He clears his throat and introduces me as such, only a few stopping what they were doing to look at me. They gaze at me in interest, if only to size me up and compare me to the rest of the room, before their attentions are grabbed by something of equal or more importance. <<include "2.13">>
“Introduce me as Apprentice $name $surname, if you may.” He clears his throat and introduces me as such, only a few stopping what they were doing to look at me. They gaze at me in interest, if only to size me up and compare me to the rest of the room, before their attentions are grabbed by something of equal or more importance. <<include "2.13">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Notoriety ++</span> <</if>>\ “Introduce me as the Dream Seer, if you may.” He clears his throat and introduces me as such, most stopping what they were doing to look at me. I see their mouths moving, their eyes taking in my appearance as I join them. A fat fish that had been introduced to an ocean full of hungry predators. <<include "2.13">>
I shrug, “just introduce me as some lost blind $species.” I can practically hear the steward grind his teeth together as he clears his throat and introduces me as such. A few look to see, perhaps pondering who dared to wander in uninvited. Already partially annoyed, I make my way down the stairs, now much closer to the action and aware of those that surround me. <<include "2.13">>
Everyone looked as if they were in competition with the next. Who could be flashier? Could show their wealth but still seem humble? Who was I kidding, no one here looked the least bit humbling. I could stand in the middle of a gold and opal deposit and still wouldn’t be able to come close to how wealthy my peers appeared. I stay to the outskirts, realizing that I knew no one. Intermingling with those before me seemed like a bad idea as well. Whether blind or with perfect vision, the judgment existing in their eyes was palpable. It clung to every word, followed every step, and followed its prey around as if it was a personal shadow. I stop and stand near the table that held all the food. Truly, these were dangerous waters. I feel a tapping on my shoulder and jerk around to see my master behind me, wearing his house clothes and slippers. <<if $dad>>\ “Ah, my ?son. You have finally decided to grace us with your presence,” he exclaims with a wide smile. It would seem that he really wasn’t going to let my dad comment go. <<else>>\ “$name, nice of you to join us,” he states with a barely maintained smile. <</if>>\ <<if $outfit>>\ <<set $queen +=1>> I see his eyes take in my appearance and though he doesn’t say anything, I can see that he’s not happy about my choice in clothing. <<else>>\ <<set $audouin +=1>> “Hmm, seems like I’m not the only one who deemed comfort more appealing than … well, appeal.” “Did you see the selection? Of course I stuck to this,” I smile. <</if>>\ “How long have you been over here?” “Since my arrival. Being Ecrid has its perks when it comes to disappearing, especially when you are dressed like this in a room of ...” he looks out at the sea of glimmering jewels and fake smiles, “this.” He gazes down at the platter of fruit sitting close to him, “their fruit is abysmal, and the meat tastes as if no one could agree on the seasoning.” [[“I suppose being a vegetarian will not save me here.”][$vegan = true]] [[“No! Not the meat!”]]
“I suppose being a vegetarian will not save me here!” I joke, though there was an underlying seriousness to my tone, “even the fruit is nasty.” My master hums in thought, “yes, yes, I know. A tragedy.” My attention moves to other things when loud trumpets begin to sound, upstaging the musicians and their lovely melody. Everyone stops what they’re doing and, as if a silent command had been said, everyone bows in the same direction. “I’m guessing that means the King and Queen are coming out?” I ask my master, we both following suit. “I suppose so. Better hurry, this back of mine is going to be thrown out.” “Rise for the King and Queen of Nidinia,” a booming voice calls out. I’m unable to see the faces of royalty due to the many figures before me. I politely applaud with everyone else, gazing around and deciding on what to do. [[Get closer to the royals.|2.13CloserRoyals]] [[Stay where I’m at.|2.13Stay]]
“No!” I shout, drawing the attention of those nearby, “not the meat! Anything but the meat.” I ignore the looks that the nobles give me, Master Audouin patting my back with a sad sigh. “Yes, yes, I know. A tragedy.” My attention moves to other things when loud trumpets begin to sound, upstaging the musicians and their lovely melody. Everyone stops what they’re doing and, as if a silent command had been said, everyone bows in the same direction. “I’m guessing that means the King and Queen are coming out?” I ask my master, we both following suit. “I suppose so. Better hurry, this back of mine is going to be thrown out.” “Rise for the King and Queen of Nidinia,” a booming voice calls out. I’m unable to see the faces of royalty due to the many figures before me. I politely applaud with everyone else, gazing around and deciding on what to do. [[Get closer to the royals.|2.13CloserRoyals]] [[Stay where I’m at.|2.13Stay]]
Curiosity burns my lungs and heats my blood, giving me the courage to take the necessary steps forward. I had lived in Nidinia for so long and had never seen the faces of those I call King and Queen. <<if $species is "uqanan">>\ I push through those who refuse to make way for me, but mostly find everyone else moving to the side for me. I suppose when one sees someone as large as me walking by, without a care for who is in their way, it gives them the incentive to make the first move. I easily reach a position that allows me to clearly see the King and Queen as they walk out on separate sides of a balcony, descending slowly. <<elseif $species is "cimmerian">>\ I head towards the wall before channeling my natural-born ability and turning into a shadow. I glide across the floor, keeping an eye out for a spot to re-materialize in. Upon doing so, I ignore the many gasps that sound off around me. Ignoring the mumbling as they speak of my origins and how I must be such a horrid creature to be around. It was nothing that I hadn’t heard before. I place my attention back on why I had even done all this in the first place. With interest I watch as the King and Queen stood on separate sides of a balcony, descending slowly. <<elseif $persuade >=10>>\ I push through those who refuse to make way for me, and when those who find themselves brave turn, I give them a simple glance that causes them to shrink back down. With intimidation on my side, I easily reach a position that allows me to clearly see the King and Queen as they walk out on separate sides of a balcony, descending slowly. <<else>>\ I carefully make my way through the crowd, having to mutter many apologies as I continue on. I’m hardly lucky enough to find a spot that gives me an adequate view of what is currently the main attraction. The King and Queen descending slowly down to separate stairs. <</if>>\ They look oddly ... normal. I fail to understand what I had suspected, perhaps two dragons or even celestial figures that rivaled the beauty of Moon and the raw power of Sun. But the two people that I now watched looked like they could just as easily own an inn, then run a country. Take away the jewels and the gems, the makeup that both of them wore religiously, and switch their attire for something far humbler and lighter, and they were just like any other peasants. My brain cried out for answers, unsure of what to make of the couple that had now just reached the bottom of the stairs. I turn to look at those that stood near me. Jealousy running rampant and unrestrained in their eyes. Was this why this so-called game was played here? Because, in a way, anyone could be the two before me. <a data-passage="2.13.1"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
The queen’s hair was thrown up into what should be an elegant bun, but due to the numerous gems that decorated it, looked more like a jeweled mess. Where, on some, the glitter that I knew many nobles used to accentuate certain facial aspects or enhance beauty or hide flaws, was decorating most of the queen’s face. The light from the chandeliers caused her entire face to look almost golden. Yet, I knew little of nobility’s thoughts on what beauty was, for all I know this is what she wished for. Her dress was a beautiful navy and white, the dress sprawling out at the waist and some of it trailing behind her. The top part of the dress looked like a floral mesh, hardly hiding her cleavage from curious eyes. “That crown is beautiful,” I hear some woman say dreamily. “Her Majesty is looking as radiant as ever.” Perhaps I was being too negative. The King wasn’t much better off. His face mirrored that of his wife’s and his suit of armor was the same color and looked bulky and uncomfortable. Due to him being bald, he didn’t have much to worry about, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had glitter on his head, only hidden by his crown. “My friends and countrymen,” the King begins, complete silence now resting over the ballroom, “words can’t explain how happy I am to see your faces. To host you in our halls. There will be times for speeches later, for now, let us get on with formalities,” he chuckles, “shall we?” As if someone had snapped their fingers, though I suppose in a way someone did, everyone placed themselves in a receiving line. Suddenly I feel naked, the only person who hadn’t immediately moved with a purpose. I go back to my master’s side, “shall we join them?” He rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly but nods, nonetheless. <a data-passage="2.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I stay where I’m at, mixed emotions coursing through me as I think about the hushed crowd and what their eyes were probably on. The King and Queen, the two figureheads of Nidinia. When someone complained about Nidinia, these two people could make it better. All the issues that this country faced, all could somehow be made better by the two people who were making their way closer to a crowd who had probably see them far too many times to count. How much did those outside of their social circle see them? Did those celebrating in the square even know what they looked like? I could just walk there and tell them a tale of the royals, say whatever I wanted, and no one would probably be the wiser. “My friends and countrymen,” I hear the King begin, complete silence now resting over the ballroom, “words can’t explain how happy I am to see your faces. To host you in our halls. There will be times for speeches later, for now, let us get on with formalities,” he chuckles, “shall we?” As if someone had snapped their fingers, though I suppose in a way someone did, everyone placed themselves in a receiving line. The way they all so naturally knew their place and fell into it was oddly beautiful. It reminded me of a branching river. That even with all of its moving parts, it still all met into one. “Shall we join them?” I ask my master who rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly but nods, nonetheless. <a data-passage="2.14"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
We head to the end of the line before I suddenly stop, glancing at the front where the lords and delegates stand. “Guest of the King,” I find myself muttering, assessing the outcomes of what I was thinking of doing, “that is as important as most of these titles, yes?” “I fear that if I say no, it will only increase your curiosity,” my master tells me with a straight and knowing face. [[Stay where we are in line.|2.14Stay][$queen +=1]] [[Skip everyone and go to the front.|2.14Skip][$frontLine = true]]
“Perhaps under different circumstances. This crowd doesn’t seem like they would appreciate such a move,” I say, staying in our spot. My master agrees, and the two of us make small talk as we wait for the line to progress. When we make it to them, both seem tired and bored with the entire formality. “King Tybalt and Queen Isa,” I say and perform a polite curtsy. When I rise, my eyes naturally go to the figure who stands to the side of the king in light armor. Glacial blue eyes pierce my being, summing me up in one simple glance. I suppose I pass whatever test is given as a charming smile causes those piercing eyes to grow incredibly gentle. All belonging to an attractive … [[... woman.][$he = "she"; $him = "her"; $his = "her"; $man = "woman"; $He = "She"; $Him = "Her"; $His = "Her"; $himself = "herself"]] [[... man.][$he = "he"; $him = "him"; $his = "his"; $man = "man"; $He = "He"; $Him = "Him"; $His = "His"; $himself = "himself"]] [[... nonbinary.][$he = "she"; $him = "her"; $his = "her"; $man = "person"; $He = "She"; $Him = "Her"; $His = "Her"; $himself = "herself"]]
“Hmph,” I huff as I motion for my master to follow, sliding out of line and walking to the front. Surprisingly, those in line say nothing, or at least nothing that my ears pick up. But I feel their glare on my back, each of them muttering a thousand silent curses. We get to the front, earning the attention of both the King and Queen. The current Lord speaking to them realizes that he is no longer of any importance and with shoulders sagging, he walks off. “King Tybalt and Queen Isa, I am humbled to be in your presence,” I state and perform a polite curtsy. When I rise, my eyes naturally go to the figure who stands to the side of the king in light armor. Glacial blue eyes pierce my being, summing me up in one simple glance. I suppose I pass whatever test is given as a charming smile causes those piercing eyes to grow incredibly gentle. All belonging to an attractive … [[... woman.][$he = "she"; $him = "her"; $his = "her"; $agender = "woman"; $He = "She"; $Him = "Her"; $His = "Her"; $himself = "herself"]] [[... man.][$he = "he"; $him = "him"; $his = "his"; $agender = "man"; $He = "He"; $Him = "Him"; $His = "His"; $himself = "himself"]] [[... nonbinary.][$he = "she"; $him = "her"; $his = "her"; $agender = "person"; $He = "She"; $Him = "Her"; $His = "Her"; $himself = "herself"]]
She was a half-breed, bearing her Uqanan blood with pride but not so much the other. I can easily tell that she wasn’t full Uqanan due to her short tusks, hardly protruding from behind her bottom lip. I was far more interested in trying to guess what else she was, probably Alyrian, seeing as many half-breeds were. But it was better to not continue staring. <<include "2.14.1">>
He was a half-breed, bearing his Uqanan blood with pride but not so much the other. I can easily tell that he wasn’t full Uqanan due to his short tusks, hardly protruding from behind his bottom lip. I was far more interested in trying to guess what else he was, probably Alyrian, seeing as many half-breeds were. But it was better to not continue staring. <<include "2.14.1">>
They were a half-breed, bearing their Uqanan blood with pride but not so much the other. I can easily tell that they weren’t full Uqanan due to their short tusks, hardly protruding from behind their bottom lip. I was far more interested in trying to guess what else they were, probably Alyrian, seeing as many half-breeds were. But it was better to not continue staring. <<include "2.14.1">>
<<if $frontLine>>\ “Who are you?” Queen Isa asks, clearing her throat and causing me to look back towards her and her husband. “Oh, my love,” King Tybalt begins, shaking his head in frustration before shooting me one of the widest smiles I’ve ever seen, “why, this is the Dream Seer, $name $surname! I asked for ?his_ presence.” “Oh my, without consulting the Queen on the matter?” she questions, “regardless, why do you feel as if your presence is more important than all those you skipped.” I’m unable to answer as the King immediately does for me, snapping at his wife in irritation, “being called upon by name, by the King himself, is all the answer you need. And I quite like ?his effrontery. But, alas, the receiving line is no place for the conversation that I wish to have with you. I shall send a servant later to request your presence.” I nod before bidding them both good day, meeting the gaze of the soldier one last time, before turning and walking off. “That went … well,” I snicker, “but Queen Isa, what’s her problem? Does she not believe in magic?” My master rolls his eyes as he steals a glance behind us to where they meet with another noble, “it is not a question if magic exists, anyone can see it does. I do believe that the real question is whether she believes in your gifts, or if her patience with her husband is just waning thin. One must remember that the king is not only passing his crown down to his son, but she is losing her crown as well.” I look back at them, only to see that Queen Isa was smiling cheerfully. <<else>>\ “My apologies, dear, but I don’t know who you are?” Queen Isa says, her voice sweet but her posture and expression giving away her overt ennui. “Oh, my love,” King Tybalt begins, shaking his head in frustration before shooting me one of the widest smiles I’ve ever seen, “why, this is the Dream Seer, $name $surname! I asked for ?his_ presence.” “Oh my, without consulting the Queen on the matter?” she questions, flicking glitter off the tip of her fingernail. “Careful dear, your callousness is showing,” he mutters, and she glares at him in utter anger. He easily ignores her, “I apologize for her behavior, as well as mine. These things are tiring even on the best of days. And the thought of getting them over with is all that pushes us on. I shall send someone later to request your presence and speak more. Hopefully, my mood will have risen again.” I nod before bidding them both good day, meeting the gaze of the soldier one last time, before turning and walking off. “Well then,” I start, “Queen Isa, what’s her problem?” My master rolls his eyes as he steals a glance behind us to where they meet with another noble, “I will not act as if I know the tendencies of royalty. My only guess is that she is not as happy with her new predicament. One must remember that the king is not only passing his crown down to his son, but she is losing her crown as well.” I look back at them, the next noble receiving far less excitement than I. <</if>>\ [[“I doubt that.”|2.14Doubt]] [[“Is that not her son as well?”|2.14NotHerSon]]
“I doubt that to be the reason,” I tell him, finally pulling my gaze from Her Majesty as I follow my master back into the thick of the crowd. <<include "2.15">>
“You say that as if that’s not her son as well, I would think both parents would feel similar feelings.” My master doesn’t answer, and perhaps it was wise that he didn’t, we were back within the thick of the crowd, where ears were always listening. <<include "2.15">>
<<nobr>><<set $AverillFyre = true>><</nobr>> <img src="images/divider.png" style="float:center"> The party continues on, the musicians playing another waltz. Those in attendance have gone their separate ways, some eating and chatting with one another, while others seek an audience with the royals. The last few are currently swaying with a partner in the middle of the room. [[Head over to the buffet and get some food.][$evidence_lordfarrimond = true]] [[Continue speaking to Master Audouin.|2.15ContinueWithAudouin][$ladyLilion = true]] [[Go and speak to the Queen.|2.15SpeaktoQueen]]
“I shall grab some food, want a plate of anything?” “More like I want the entire jug of wine when you spy it,” my master tells me, and I chuckle as well as nod. I go to the table and begin to sample the food there, keeping my eye out for that jug as I go. I don’t watch where I am going and consequently run into nobles who stand idly. They both look down their noses at me, disdain and abhorrence in their gazes. <<if $hostile >=50>>\ I roll my eyes and shoulder check the man as I continue pilfering the table, ignoring the glare they both send me but also listening to them as they go back to mumbling to one another. <<else>>\ I nod an apology before I continue pilfering the table, listening to them as they mumble to one another. <</if>>\ “Do you truly feel like that course of action is smart, Lord Farrimond?” “In less than a week, we will be bowing our heads to the weakest man the throne has ever seen. So, yes.” “His claim is not a strong one, in fact, it’s nonexistent.” “The entire east worships his name. He could come from pig shit, and I couldn’t care.” I wonder who they speak of. Seeing that I didn’t spend much time around nobles and their affairs, I knew little about the political landscape that I’ve now found myself maneuvering. I suppose I shouldn’t care, but information was information. Forgetting this might prove disastrous in the future. “Do you believe the King will speak of it?” “No, he is much too proud for that. He will behave as if nothing is wrong.” Their conversation comes to an end as a plump man approaches, and I go as well, sadly with no jug of wine. <a data-passage="2.16"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I stay where I am, discussing trivial matters with Master Audouin. Mostly, it was an attempt on both of our parts to make it seem like we were busy and could not be interrupted. It works – until it doesn’t. “Ahh, how long I’ve wanted to meet you, dear,” a petite woman squeals, causing half of the room to look towards us. “High Gods, help us,” Master Audouin mumbles into his glass. The woman rushes over and hugs me, unconcerned about personal space as her entourage trail close behind. “You are the Dream Seer. Why have you never been in Likrui? I have many,” she pauses as she examines my figure, a not so subtle smile appearing, “many uses for your talents.” “Oh, I bet you do,” I grumble, finding myself gravitating closer to my master’s side. “That is my fault, Lady Lilion, I am working $name far too hard,” my master tells her, and she puffs her cheeks out as if a child. “Bah, shame on you, Audouin. You must come to see me as well, both of you,” she changes her tune when she includes me. Before anyone can say anything more, she squeals again and addresses someone else, making her way towards them next. “They call her the Squealing Heifer,” my master tells me. “I understand the squealing part, but why the heifer?” “She is one of the youngest ladies in attendance and known to have many lovers. Yet somehow, she has never given birth. She entices the other ladies with false tales of how to not get pregnant. I’ll admit though, they are interesting to listen to.” I don’t ask him, but I do ponder how the man who hates these functions know so much. <a data-passage="2.16"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I listen to Master Audouin as he speaks but scantily. My true attention is set upon the Queen who sits bored. If there was an hourglass nearby, then I have no doubt it would hold all of her attention rapturously. The couple speaks in hushed tones when no one is around before the King finally stands and makes his way towards a group, leaving the Queen where she is. “Master,” I start, not taking my eyes off the Queen, “I shall be back in a minute.” He hums, “the real question is, will I still be here. Do nothing rash, $name. Eyes are always watching.” I take his advice with me as I move forward. I didn’t have a plan, but I didn’t think I needed one. I was acting on a whim, curious about why the Queen disliked me and what could be done, if anything, to change such feelings. “Your Majesty,” I greet, curtsying as I stand before her. Her eyes travel to me as if she had just noticed me approaching, and though I do my best not to show it, I could’ve sworn she had been watching me for some time. “I would like to apologize. I know not what I have done to offend you, but I mean nothing by it.” My words don’t induce any kind of visible reaction out of Her Majesty. Her eyes flitter across my face like an insect trying to find a suitable spot to rest but having no such luck. I watch for anything that would clue me into what she was thinking, eyes crinkling, or the corner of her mouth shifting. The slightest rise or fall of her brows, a twitch, or even her forehead creasing.<<if $empathy >=50>> I even attempt to use my empathy abilities to sense her mood, unsurprised to learn she was feeling a small hint of annoyance.<</if>> I receive nothing and instead feel as if I’m under heavy investigation. Unable to help myself, I look around but see none of the eyes that I believe are on me. “Apprentice $name,” she finally speaks, her voice relaxed, but her posture stringent, “tell me, how are you enjoying your first ball?” [[“Presumptuous of you to assume it’s my first.”]] [[“It’s wonderful, Your Majesty.”|2.15WonderfulMajesty]] [[“Not the way I would throw a party.”|2.15NotMyParty][$queen +=1]]
I can’t help the smirk that flickers across my face, “it’s quite presumptuous of you to assume it’s my first.” Much to my surprise, a natural smile comes onto the Queen’s face as she regards me. “Perhaps, am I right?” <<if $background is "slave_noble">>\ <<nobr>><<set $queen +=1>><</nobr>> “You are not. I was a slave for a house of nobles that was fairly popular. They had many balls, though not as fancy. But I know how to traverse these sorts of things.” The Queen continues to look upon me as if I wasn’t the same person from earlier. “Then, Apprentice $name, you have my apologies for so boldly assuming information about you,” she pauses as a small but genuine smile appears, “you have my word that it will not happen again.” <<else>>\ “You would not be. I’ve known and helped a few nobles, but they were never popular enough to be invited to such gatherings, or rich enough to host them themselves.” “I assure you it has nothing to do with the coin in one’s pockets but the scope of their name,” she corrects me, and I nod. She extends a heavy glittered hand out and motions towards the crowd, “I would suggest you continue to explore your first ball then.” <</if>>\ We seem to have reached the end of our conversation, and after another polite curtsy, I leave. The feelings of eyes glaring into my soul, finally alleviate. <a data-passage="2.16"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“It’s wonderful, Your Majesty.” With a roll of her eyes, she lightly taps her dress to push some of the fallen glitter off of her person, “ever polite, <<if $frontLine>> until you’re skipping nobles in line, hmm?<<else>> aren’t you?<</if>>” I clear my throat and try to smile, but it doesn’t seem to please Her Royal Majesty in the slightest. We seem to have reached the end of our conversation, and after another polite curtsy, I leave. The feelings of eyes glaring into my soul, finally alleviate. <a data-passage="2.16"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I shrug my shoulders, “not the way I would throw a party but to each their own, I suppose.” She looks almost interested to hear what I have to say next, “and how would you throw a ball to commemorate the shifting of the crown?” I tap my chin, not having to even look at her to know that this was a test. What kind of test and what my answer would tell her, I know not. “With gifts,” I start, “this is about the Prince taking over, and the King stepping down. If I was in charge of putting this together, then each and every noble that showed up would have brought a gift to say farewell to the King, and a gift to welcome in the Prince.” “Does royalty truly need gifts?” More testing, but so far, I could see that she liked my answer. “The logical answer is no. But the King has taken care of this kingdom thus far, and the Prince will soon do the same. So why not, for one day, thank them when the remaining days will be spent with these nobles begging to have their way? And who knows, I might be more inclined to give you what you want if the gift is handsome.” To my surprise, the Queen laughs, “you are splendid. If only my King agreed for even I have broached such a topic to him.” She waves away any words she was about to say and with a genuine smile gaze at me, “this talk has been quite intuitive, Apprentice $name, I thank you for it.” We seem to have reached the end of our conversation, and after another polite curtsy, I leave. The feelings of eyes glaring into my soul, finally alleviate. <a data-passage="2.16"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Later, I chat with a few who seem to think their importance translates to me seeing their faces in my dreams, others who only wish to ask me why they don’t see me at more events. And even a few who sing my praises as if I was royalty, though I suspect an ulterior motive behind all the compliments. Not here for a day and this place was turning me cynical. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see the soldier from earlier, that gentle smile once again resting on the guard’s lips. <<if $man is "person">>\ “Perhaps I can steal you away for a dance,” they say, bowing slightly. Wishing to get away from those currently, I place my hand in theirs and allow them to whisk me onto the floor. Couples tightly pack us in, causing me to focus on dancing and not accidentally stepping on another. “If I may, what identifiers should I use? I … I didn’t wish to assume.” They grin, “ah, thank you. If only some of these nobles shared your initiative. Identifying me as she is fine.” <<elseif $man is "man">>\ “Perhaps I can steal you away for a dance,” he says, bowing slightly. Wishing to get away from those currently, I place my hand in his and allow him to whisk me onto the floor. Couples tightly pack us in, causing me to focus on dancing and not accidentally stepping on another. <<else>>\ “Perhaps I can steal you away for a dance,” she says, bowing slightly. Wishing to get away from those currently, I place my hand in hers and allow her to whisk me onto the floor. Couples tightly pack us in, causing me to focus on dancing and not accidentally stepping on another. <</if>>\ <<if $frontLine>>\ “I’m quite happy I was able to get a dance with you, I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now,” $he begins, “you also made quite an entrance with pushing your way to the front.” “What can I say,” I chuckle, “I hate waiting. But you said you had wanted to meet me for some time,” I roll my eyes to myself, “let me guess. You wish to know if I’ve seen you in any of my dreams?” <<else>>\ “I’m quite happy I was able to get a dance with you, I’ve wanted to meet you for some time now,” $he begins. “Is that so? Let me guess, you want to know if I’ve seen you in any of my dreams?” <</if>>\ $He chuckles and the slightest hint of a blush appears, “that could have been an excellent line on my part, huh?” $He sighs in annoyance before smiling, “and if I wished to use it, then it is now far too late.” [[“It’s better you keep it to yourself anyway.”]] <<if $flirt_averill>>\ <<if settings.dialog>><span class="romance img-invert"></span>[[“We can act like the last minute or so never happened.”][$averillLi +=1]]<<else>>[[“We can act like the last minute or so never happened.”][$averillLi +=1]]<</if>> <</if>>\
“It’s better you keep it to yourself anyway,” I tell $aim and another blush appears, though this one is fueled more by embarrassment. “I suppose you would be right. I apologize if my words seemed too forward.” I nod, “I’m curious, though. What rank could you possibly be that you were standing right behind the King earlier, but now find yourself dancing with me?” “I am part of both the King’s Guard, as well as his army. Concerning the King’s Guard, I am like any other guard, but in the army I am a general.” [[“Just a guard?”|2.16JustGuard][$averill +=3]] [[“So, someone of importance either way.”][$averill -=3]] [[“I’m guessing because of the Uqanan blood?”]]
“Well,” I smile suggestively, “we could always act like the last minute or so never happened.” I earn a hearty laugh out of the soldier as $he pulls me just a tad bit closer. “I fear that I will make a bigger fool of myself.” “Then let me say how sorry I am to have presumed. If I may ask, what rank could you possibly be that you were standing right behind the King earlier, but now find yourself dancing with me?” “I am part of both the King’s Guard, as well as his army. Concerning the King’s Guard, I am like any other guard, but in the army I am a general.” [[“Just a guard?”|2.16JustGuard][$averill +=3]] [[“So, someone of importance either way.”][$averill -=3]] [[“I’m guessing because of the Uqanan blood?”]]
“Just part of the King’s Guard still doesn’t give one the ability to stand directly behind both figureheads. I suspect that they trust you, or at least one of them.” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “Your deduction skills are as flawless as your appearance.” “Are you trying to impress me, General?” $aHe chuckles, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” Gracefully $he twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies, “my name is Averill.” Before I’m even done with the twirl, I again find myself back in $his arms. <<else>>\ “Your deduction skills are immaculate. The King does, the Queen hardly spares me a glance.” $aHe gracefully twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies with a light blush, “I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Averill.” <</if>>\ “General Averill?” “If you like such formalities then yes, but I would much rather you call me Averill. And you?” “Just $name is fine.” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. Averill takes my hand and steps closer to me, $his mouth right beside my ear, “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King and then to me, placing an airy kiss on my hand and bidding me adieu. <<else>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King before leaving us alone. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“So, someone of importance either way.” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “To have the opportunity to be dancing with one so alluring, I do believe so.” “Are you trying to impress me, General?” $aHe chuckles, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” Gracefully $he twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies, “my name is Averill.” Before I’m even done with the twirl, I again find myself back in $his arms. <<else>>\ “I suppose so. I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” Gracefully $he twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies, “my name is Averill.” Before I’m even done with the twirl, I am once again being guided by $him. <</if>>\ “General Averill?” “If you like such formalities then yes, but I would much rather you call me Averill. And you?” “Just $name is fine.” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. Averill takes my hand and steps closer to me, $his mouth right beside my ear, “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King and then to me, placing an airy kiss on my hand and bidding me adieu. <<else>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King before leaving us alone. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $species is "uqanan">>\ “I presume some of that Uqanan blood has something to do with it? Do you not receive looks for what you are?” I ask, boldly at that. But it was a question that I had been pondering. For though half-Uqanans weren’t rare, they weren’t precisely adored amongst the Uqanan communities. <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ $aHis smile disappears and $his eyes grow a touch sad, “it is true that I am not full Uqanan. I can only hope someone who appears as worldy as you does not hold such thing against me.” “Someone as worldy as I could never. You have nothing to fear from me, General?” $aHe chuckles, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” Gracefully $he twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies, “my name is Averill.” Before I’m even done with the twirl, I again find myself back in $his arms. <<else>>\ $aHe frowns, $his eyes growing tired as $he regards me, “will my blood be a problem?” “No, I care little, if not at all. My job doesn’t exactly allow for prejudices to shine through as such.” “You have my thanks then,” $he chuckles, gracefully twirling me and then taking a quick step back and curtsying, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Averill.” <</if>>\ <<else>>\ “If I may be so bold, is it possibly due to your Uqanan blood that the King had you so close? Intimidation?” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “Many tend to not fear us half-breeds. I do hope that also goes for one as brave as you.” “A compliment, General, so soon?” $aHe chuckles, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners.” Gracefully $he twirls me and takes a quick step back and curtsies, “my name is Averill.” Before I’m even done with the twirl, I again find myself back in $his arms. <<else>>\ “Perhaps if //only// Uqanan blood raced through me. But many tend to not fear us half-breeds.” “And they regret it, I’m sure.” “Indeed,” $he chuckles, gracefully twirling me and then taking a quick step back and curtsying, “I apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. My name is Averill.” <</if>>\ <</if>>\ “General Averill?” “If you like such formalities then yes, but I would much rather you call me Averill. And you?” “Just $name is fine.” <<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. Averill takes my hand and steps closer to me, $his mouth right beside my ear, “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King and then to me, placing an airy kiss on my hand and bidding me adieu. <<else>>\ “Then, $name, it was a pleasure dancing with you,” $he says as the music comes to an end and all those who had danced claps as another begins to play. “His Majesty is waiting on the balcony for you. If you would follow me.” It would seem that Averill hadn’t danced with me simply because $he had wished to know me. Yet, I don’t argue and follow $him out, trying to spot my master who, for all I know, had left a while ago. Once we make it to the balcony, Averill curtsies to the King before leaving us alone. <</if>>\ <a data-passage="2.17"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $averillLi >=1>>\ “I see you have already captured the attention of one of my most trusted guards,” he says, his face not giving away whether he was okay with that idea or not. <</if>>\ “Come, join me, $name.” I do as he says, walking to the edge of the balcony and immediately gazing down to where some of the guests mill about. The velvet darkness above streaks through the sky, orchestrating the choir of stars to play a different melody for each individual who would wish to listen. It was common for me to stop and listen to their poetic words from time to time, but those below me, I would guess that they never did. “You see them as clear as I do, yes?” I gaze towards the King in hopes of figuring out what he was alluding to, his eyes resting on those beneath us. “They wound never say it, but what we do within these walls affects them even more than me. I could raise taxes in their lands, and they would have to put up with the outcries of the farmers and merchants. I could put a tariff on their goods or forbid trading with a particular country, and it would be they who had to stop and pause. At times, it feels like they are my unwilling puppets, fighting against their strings but knowing that in the end, their efforts are ineffective.” [[Continue to listen to the King.|2.17ListenToKing]] [[Question the King's purpose for telling me this.]] <<if $empathy >=50>>\ [[Try to figure out the King's current emotions.]] <</if>>\
“Follow me, I would like to show you something. Something that will better explain my point.” He turns and heads back inside with me close at his heels. “You see, $name, before even inheriting the crown from my own mother, I learned a lesson that I have based my entire reign on.” We walk up a flight of stairs in silence, guards eyeing me untrustworthily as we pass them. We walk down a hallway and then onto a second balcony, this one overlooking most of Ipharia and all of her splendid glory. If directly above me the stars were calm and poetic, then further out they looked chaotic. The bright lanterns dotting the sky over Ipharia clashing against them and challenging them in whoever was brightest. Realistically, I could not hear them, but closing my eyes I could see myself in town square, dancing and laughing with those around me. No care in the world. “Do you know what lesson that was?” [[“Keep the populace happy?”][$care +=3]] [[“Distract them all?”|2.17Distract][$honesty -=3]] [[“Keep them looking up.”][$smug +=3]] [[Stay silent and let him continue.|2.17LetHimContinue]]
“Sir,” I whisper, “why are you telling me this? Why did you bring me here?” <<include "2.17ListenToKing">>
I was curious about what the King was feeling at this moment, if his words made him feel like a god amongst those below him, or if his words saddened him. I focus on him and visualize myself reaching inside of him as if attempting to grab and pluck at the emotions lying below the surface. They were eerily neutral, his words failing to move him one way or the other. They almost strike me as being bored. <<include "2.17ListenToKing">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Logical ++</span> <</if>>\ “Above all, keep the populace happy?” King Tybalt smiles a toothy grin, “you would be surprised how little monarchs truly care about the happiness of their people, as well as how easy that is to accomplish. You sprinkle a speech here and there, and then a lie, you give them some breaks and events, and boom – you have the happiest people in the world.” He takes a deep breath and removes his crown, examining it with an eye of someone looking upon poor craftsmanship. <<include "2.17LetHimContinue">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span> <</if>>\ “Distract them with cute little activities and events and balls so that they never have time, or want, to question?” King Tybalt lets out a boisterous laugh, cocking his head up to the sky with a satisfied smile, “that is not the lesson, but I’d be damned if it isn’t a good one. Part of me wishes to say that these events and balls aren’t as trivial as your words make them seem, but I would be wasting both of our time. These events not only work as a distraction but raise morale, and the more illustrious they are, the more everyone believes they are better off.” “While you are busy playing the game?” “Indeed.” He takes a deep breath and removes his crown, examining it with an eye of someone looking upon poor craftsmanship. <<include "2.17LetHimContinue">>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Cocky ++</span> <</if>>\ “To keep them looking up so that they never look down?” King Tybalt pauses, gazing over at me with consideration sparkling in his eyes, “that is not what I was about to say, but that was put quite beautifully. Keep their eyes on the sparkling stone and gilded rooftops. Give them hope that they might be able to rise to such heights and have them forget their standing in their own shit. Alas, that is not the lesson I learned.” He takes a deep breath and removes his crown, examining it with an eye of someone looking upon poor craftsmanship. <<include "2.17LetHimContinue">>
“I learned that social creatures love being led, even when there is some asinine rebellion going on. Still, they must be led. We are a people of chaos, walking in its mists as if we were born among it. Everyone bows their head to someone. It is simply an added bonus when the person you bow your head to is capable.” I frown when he speaks of a rebellion but decide not to question him further on that, especially when it was obvious that his attention was not on it. “Is your son capable?” The King pauses as if he had had the answer but now was hesitant,” I believe he can be capable. But my thoughts matter little. The populace has already cast their opinions, and they are predominantly doubting. That is where you come in. Your reputation precedes you considerably, never a dream that has yet come to be. They know that,” he says and sweeps his hand towards Ipharia, “and I wish for you to use that.” <a data-passage="2.18"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
“You wish for me to lie?” “Call it what you will, but I would hope that you would see why I need you to do such a thing. They fear the future and if my son will take care of them the same way I have. Balancing yourself on a scale of love and fear is no easy task. My son will have to learn this on his own, and the last thing I need is a group of fearing people when a few words from a celebrated face can temper their foulness.” “And if my words don’t equal out to what perhaps the truth is? What if I have a dream that doesn’t reach your standards?” “Then I would like for you to tell me. In fact, if you have any dreams during your stay here, then you should come to me with them. Unless I tell you that it is alright, I do not wish for you to tell anyone, not even your master, what you see in that beautifully woven-out mind of yours.” [[“I can do as you ask.”|2.18CanDoAsk][$honesty -=3]] [[“I’ve … I’ve never lied before.”|2.18NeverLiedBefore][$honesty +=3]] [[“And I’m guessing I have little choice.”|2.18LittleChoice]]
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Deceitful ++</span> <</if>>\ “I can do as you ask,” I say in confidence. Like he said, it was a simple lie to make those below more comfortable. If my dreams told me of unforeseen doom on the horizon, then it would do nothing but rattle the populace, and the royal family won’t be the only ones hurt. Despite telling the truth, many would turn their fury onto me. “Perfect. I wish for you to meet my son tomorrow. And when you do get your little speech ready, to run it first by my advisor and me.” He places his crown back on his head and gives me a charming smile, “it has been an utter pleasure.” With that, he leaves me to my thoughts. I gaze up at the sky and realize that for the first time, the stars were silent. <a data-passage="Chapter Three"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<if $statShow>>\ <span class="stats">Honesty ++</span> <</if>>\ “I’ve …” I begin in hesitation, “I’ve never lied before. My reputation could be greatly hurt by this.” “I doubt it,” he says simply as if he knew this to be as accurate as anything else, “you give the people too much credit. They will remember your words at that moment. If my son does a horrid job, then you will be the last thing on their minds when it happens.” “It still doesn’t sit well with me.” “I’m not forcing you into this, $name,” he turns to go, stopping at the doors to the balcony and looking over at me. I watch as he puts his crown back on his head and straightens up, in the light of the moon he looks menacing, no longer the unorderly king that I had seen in the ballroom, “but know that I can ruin your reputation far quicker than any lowly peasant ever could.” With that, he leaves me to my thoughts. I gaze up at the sky and realize that for the first time, the stars were silent. <a data-passage="Chapter Three"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I narrow my eyes out at the square, wondering what it would be like to be them, instead of being here, talking to the king of the entire country about lying. “And I’m guessing I have little choice?” “We always have a choice, $name,” he turns to go, stopping at the doors to the balcony and looking over at me. I watch as he puts his crown back on his head and straightens up, in the light of the moon he looks menacing, no longer the unorderly king that I had seen in the ballroom, “but know that those choices have consequences.” With that, he leaves me to my thoughts. I gaze up at the sky and realize that for the first time, the stars were silent. <a data-passage="Chapter Three"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img class="img-invert" src="images/ms_magic.png" alt="Magic"/> * ''Defense Shield'': A standard shield for defensive purposes. Can be used to protect an individual or a collective group. If continuously fed energy, the shield can protect an individual for a longer time. * ''Energy Balls'': A standard offensive ability that allows the individual to manipulate their own energy and turn it into balls that explode upon impact. Depending on the focus used, the caster can hone in on targets. <<if $spell_FrostTrap>>\ * ''Frost Trap'': A spell that allows the caster to place down a frost trap that will slow and freeze any who steps onto the trap. <</if>>\ <<if $spell_LieDetection>>\ * ''Lie Detection'': A spell that will allow the caster to tell if someone is lying or not. This spell must be constantly fed energy to continue it and can only be cast on one person at a time. <</if>>\ <<if $spell_Enhance>>\ * ''Enhance: A spell that will allow the caster to enhance speed, strength, durability, or a mix of all three. This spell must be constantly fed energy to prolong it, as well as to use more than two enhancements together. <</if>>\ <img class="img-invert" src="images/ms_skills.png" alt="Skills"/> [[Return|$return]]
<img class="img-invert" src="images/inventory.png"> @@.center; !!!Weapons <<inventory '$weaponInventory'>> !!!Clothing <<inventory '$clothingInventory'>> !!!Miscellaneous <<inventory '$miscInventory'>> [[Return|$return]] @@
<img class="img-invert" src="images/compendium.png"> @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@ <div class="codex"> <a data-passage="Dictionary">glossary</a> <a data-passage="Location">places</a> <a data-passage="Fauna">fauna</a> <a data-passage="Species">species</a> <a data-passage="Map">map</a> </div>
''C'' *chikrin: a magical collar used on those who have magical abilities that keeps them from using said magic. Commonly used on slaves to keep them from performing magic at ill times. ''D'' *daeth: a Uqanan term used to describe their settlements. ''E'' *elytzi: three spirits neither deities nor of the High Gods. ''En'' controls life and death, ''Fate'' controls path and decisions made through life, and ''Chronos'' controls the passage of time and history. ''L'' *ludá: a unique kind of spell magic gifted to certain individuals, bloodlines, and/or tribes. Usually gifted or cursed by a deity. ''N'' *nashi: a set of facial markings only seen on the Ecrid people, or those with enough Ecrid blood running through them. These medium sized specks take on the same color as the individual’s eye and grow darker or lighter based off of one’s current emotion. ''P'' *phasing : the ability and process of accessing the elysian plane ''R'' *ruho: worldwide currency of Jiwenia. There are four different kinds of ruho (also in the order of least valuable to most valuable): copper, silver, gold, and opal. An individual will only specify the number of ruho if it is silver, gold, or opal. Otherwise, they will simply say the cost followed by ruho, i.e. four ruho. ''S'' *skivck: a type of cloak that stops at the upper chest and back. There is a hood and some of them have sleeves, one sleeve, or no sleeves. *swanik (swa-neek/n): a thick type of hooded shawl that stops at the chest in the front, but drapes to the lower back in the back. [[Return|$return]]
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[[Return|$return]]
<span class="title">$name $surname</span> <span class="title-caption">Gender: <<if $gender is "nonbinary">>Nonbinary<<else>><<if $trans>>Trans <<else>><</if>><<if $gender is "male">>Male<<else>>Female<</if>><</if>> (?He/?Him) | Species: $species | Occupation: Apprentice</span> ''Background/Origins'': <<if $background is "slave_brothel">>You were a brothel slave whose job was to clean when asked and entertain patrons with your captivating voice.<<elseif $background is "slave_gladiator">>You were a gladiator or coliseum slave. Your day typically consisted of you cleaning the coliseum up and helping prepare the fighters.<<elseif $background is "slave_noble">>You were a noble slave for the Andalathum House of Andala. You did the odd job here and there, as well as running errands and cleaning.<<elseif $background is "streetkid">>You grew up on the streets, whether you would see another day was never known and you had to fight f4or everything you needed.<<elseif $background is "community">>You were raised amongst a community of those who taught you everything you knew but didn’t know your origins.<<elseif $background is "traveler">>You don’t remember much of your early years besides growing up in a small community. Your memory begins when you started traveling, on your own and your only companion being nature.<<else>>You have not chosen a background yet.<</if>> ''Chakra'': Your $chakra is messed up. ''Build'': You have a $build build. ''Personality'': <<link 'click here'>><<dialog 'Personality Stats'>>* Honest: $honesty * Chivalrous: $allforone * Hostile: $hostile * Cocky: $smug * Emotional: $care<</dialog>><</link>> to see the number versions of what is below * Honest <meter @value="$honesty" min="0" max="100"></meter> Deceitful * Chivalrous <meter @value="$allforone" min="0" max="100"></meter> Individualistic * Hostile <meter @value="$hostile" min="0" max="100"></meter> Peaceful * Cocky <meter @value="$smug" min="0" max="100"></meter> Humble * Emotional <meter @value="$care" min="0" max="100"></meter> Logical [[Return|$return]]
@@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@ <img class="img-invert" src="images/loveinterest.png" alt="Love Interests"/> <div class="codex"> <a data-passage="IsaakAlexanderPage">isaak</a> <a data-passage="AverillyFyrePage">averill</a> <a data-passage="ThorneMercPage">thorne</a> <a data-passage="NumiraSinPage">numira</a> <a data-passage="TsintahasherikhalaNeleroPage">tsintah'asherikhala</a> </div> <<if $IsaakAlexander>>\ ''[[Isaak Alexander|IsaakAlexanderPage]]'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$isaak" min="0" max="100"></meter> Crush Status: <<print $crushStatus>> Romance: <<print $isaakLi>> <</if>>\ <<if $AverillFyre>>\ ''Averill Fyre'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$averill" min="0" max="100"></meter> Romance: <<print $averillLi>> <</if>>\ <<if $TsintahasherikhalaNelero>>\ ''Tsintah'asherikhala Nelero'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$tsintah" min="0" max="100"></meter> Romance: <<print $tsintahLi>> Korisi's Fondness: <<print $ko>> <</if>>\ <<if $ThorneMerc>>\ ''Thorne'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$thorne" min="0" max="100"></meter> Thorne's Purpose: <<print $thornePurpose>> Romance: <<print $thorneLi>> <</if>>\ <<if $NumiraSin>>\ ''Numira Sin'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$numira" min="0" max="100"></meter> Romance: <<print $numiraLi>> <</if>>\ <img src="images/otherchar.png" alt="Other Characters"/> <<if $AnsellusWarren>>\ *Ansellus <<if $ans_defense>>defended you against<<else>>spoke against you regarding<</if>> the charges brought up. <</if>>\ <<if $OpalWarriorMarabi>>\ ''Marabi'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$marabi" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\
<span class="characterprofile"> <img src="images/IsaakAlexander_Bio.png" alt="Isaak Alexander"/> </span><span class="title">ISAAK ALEXANDER</span> <span class="title-caption">Gender: Male (He/Him) | Species: Alyrian | Occupation: Farmer</span> Isaak is the only child of Renard and Elizabeth Alexander. Renard was a farmer, like his father and his father's father, while Elizabeth was deemed as a caretaker by the Shaman of Akrisos. When Isaak was born, the shaman came, and just like he did to any other family, foretold how Isaak would help the town later in life and what his career would be. To no one's surprise, the shaman predicted Isaak becoming a farmer. When Isaak turned twenty, he, like all others, submitted his name into The Selection to be chosen amongst the specialists and crafters of Akrisos. Unlike many of the others, Isaak's name was only selected by two others, the tailor and another farmer who also ran the town's general store. Isaak, knowing what this meant, agreed to become the apprentice of the farmer. This did not work out and two years later, he decided to call it quits and seek out another apprenticeship. Many of those that would have him either already had apprentices or did not want Isaak in particular. At age 24, Isaak was picked up by one of the grocer's of Akrisos, learning how to both farm and be a potential merchant. While many in this area graduate from their apprentice status in three years, Isaak has yet to. <table> <tr> <th><a data-passage="AverillFyrePage"><img src="images/FAverillFyre_Circle.png" alt="Averill Fyre" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="TsintahasherikhalaNeleroPage"><img src="images/TsintahasherikhalaNelero_Circle.png" alt="Tsintahasherikhala Nelero" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="ThorneMercPage"><img src="images/ThorneMerc_Circle.png" alt="Thorne the Merc" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="NumiraSinPage"><img src="images/NumiraSin_Circle.png" alt="NumiraSin" width="60%"/></a></th> </tr> </table> @@.center; [[Return|$return]] @@
<<if $agender is "man">> <span class="characterprofile"> <img src="images/FAverillFyre_Bio.png" alt="Female Averill Fyre"/> </span> <<else>>\ <span class="characterprofile"> <img src="images/MAverillFyre_Bio.png" alt="Male Averill Fyre"/> </span> <</if>>\ <span class="title">AVERILL FYRE</span> <span class="title-caption">Gender: <<if $agender is "man">>Male (He/Him)<<elseif $agender is "woman">>Female (She/Her)<<else>>Nonbinary (She/Her)<</if>> | Species: Half Breed (Uqanan/Alyrian) | Occupation: Royal Guard</span> Isaak is the only child of Renard and Elizabeth Alexander. Renard was a farmer, like his father and his father's father, while Elizabeth was deemed as a caretaker by the Shaman of Akrisos. When Isaak was born, the shaman came, and just like he did to any other family, foretold how Isaak would help the town later in life and what his career would be. To no one's surprise, the shaman predicted Isaak becoming a farmer. When Isaak turned twenty, he, like all others, submitted his name into The Selection to be chosen amongst the specialists and crafters of Akrisos. Unlike many of the others, Isaak's name was only selected by two others, the tailor and another farmer who also ran the town's general store. Isaak, knowing what this meant, agreed to become the apprentice of the farmer. This did not work out and two years later, he decided to call it quits and seek out another apprenticeship. Many of those that would have him either already had apprentices or did not want Isaak in particular. At age 24, Isaak was picked up by one of the grocer's of Akrisos, learning how to both farm and be a potential merchant. While many in this area graduate from their apprentice status in three years, Isaak has yet to. <table> <tr> <th><a data-passage="TsintahasherikhalaNeleroPage"><img src="images/TsintahasherikhalaNelero_Circle.png" alt="Tsintahasherikhala Nelero" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="ThorneMercPage"><img src="images/ThorneMerc_Circle.png" alt="Thorne the Merc" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="NumiraSinPage"><img src="images/NumiraSin_Circle.png" alt="NumiraSin" width="60%"/></a></th> </tr> </table> [[Return|$return]]
<span class="characterprofile"> <img src="images/TsintahasherikhalaNelero_Bio.png" alt="Female Averill Fyre"/> </span><span class="title">Tsintahasherikhala Nelero</span> <span class="title-caption">Gender: Male (He/Him) | Species: Alyrian | Occupation: Farmer</span> Isaak is the only child of Renard and Elizabeth Alexander. Renard was a farmer, like his father and his father's father, while Elizabeth was deemed as a caretaker by the Shaman of Akrisos. When Isaak was born, the shaman came, and just like he did to any other family, foretold how Isaak would help the town later in life and what his career would be. To no one's surprise, the shaman predicted Isaak becoming a farmer. When Isaak turned twenty, he, like all others, submitted his name into The Selection to be chosen amongst the specialists and crafters of Akrisos. Unlike many of the others, Isaak's name was only selected by two others, the tailor and another farmer who also ran the town's general store. Isaak, knowing what this meant, agreed to become the apprentice of the farmer. This did not work out and two years later, he decided to call it quits and seek out another apprenticeship. Many of those that would have him either already had apprentices or did not want Isaak in particular. At age 24, Isaak was picked up by one of the grocer's of Akrisos, learning how to both farm and be a potential merchant. While many in this area graduate from their apprentice status in three years, Isaak has yet to. <table> <tr> <th><a data-passage="AverillFyrePage"><img src="images/FAverillFyre_Circle.png" alt="Averill Fyre" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="TsintahasherikhalaNeleroPage"><img src="images/TsintahasherikhalaNelero_Circle.png" alt="Tsintahasherikhala Nelero" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="ThorneMercPage"><img src="images/ThorneMerc_Circle.png" alt="Thorne the Merc" width="60%"/></a></th> <th><a data-passage="NumiraSinPage"><img src="images/NumiraSin_Circle.png" alt="NumiraSin" width="60%"/></a></th> </tr> </table> [[Return|$return]]
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "v">><</nobr>> You have a vagina.
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "p">><</nobr>> You have a penis.
<<nobr>><<set $sex to "na">><</nobr>> You have chosen not to disclose this information.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "male">><</nobr>> You are a cis male.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "male"; $trans = true>><</nobr>> You are a transgendered male.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "female">><</nobr>> You are a cis female.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "female"; $trans = true>><</nobr>> You are a transgendered female.
<<nobr>><<set $gender to "nonbinary">><</nobr>> You are nonbinary.
<<nobr>>\<input type="checkbox" id="fullscreen"><label for="fullscreen" class="gofullscreen"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'FullScreenGo_white.png'" alt="Go full screen" title="Go full screen" class="fullscreenImg"></label><label for="fullscreen" class="exitfullscreen"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'FullScreenExit_white.png'" alt="Exit full screen" title="Exit full screen" class="fullscreenImg"></label> <a data-passage="Inventory"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'InvIcon.png'" alt="Settings" title="Inventory" class="fullscreenImg" style="top: 75px; left: 251px;"></a> <a data-passage="Compendium"><img @src="setup.ImagePath+'Codex.png'" alt="Settings" title="Compendium" class="fullscreenImg" style="top: 110px; left: 250px;"></a> <</nobr>>\
<a href="https://13leaguestories.tumblr.com/"><img class="img-invert" src="images/logo.png"></a>
<img class="img-invert" src="images/bumstudios.png" width="500" height="111" align ="center"> @@.center; © 2021-2023 Bum Studios LLC. All rights reserved. All images are copyright by Bum Studios. All audio is either licensed under Bum Studios or credited below. Copyright infringement is punishable by law. Widgets by HiEv & Chapel ''CONTACT'' If you have any questions or issues please contact me @ ... email: 13leaguestories@gmail.com tumblr: 13leaguestories.tumblr.com [[Return|$return]] @@
© 2021-2023 Bum Studios LLC ~~26.01.23 //Insight// contains violence, references to alcohol and addiction, strong language, and sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.~~
<<link '<i class="fas fa-coins"></i> Inventory' "Inventory">><</link>> <<link '<i class="fas fa-book"></i> Compendium' "Compendium">><</link>> <<link '<i class="fas fa-circle-info"></i> Credits' "Credits">><</link>>
<<set $name = "Not Known"; $surname = "">> <<set $species = "Not Known">> <<set $ruho to 0>> <<set $background = "Unknown">> <<set $sex = "na"; $gender = "na"; $trans = false; $int = "none"; $s_att = "high"; $r_att = "na"; $notouchy to false>> <<set $hair = "Not Chosen"; $hl = "NotChosen"; $hc = "Not Chosen"; $build = "Not Chosen"; $scars = "none">> <<set $vegan = false>> <<set $horse to "Unknown">> /* Abilities */ <<set $energy to 100>> <<set $spells to 0>> <<set $fight to 50>> <<set $body to 0; $chaos to 0; $spirit to 0; $heal to 0; $tarot to 0>> <<set $misattuned = false>> <<set $stat_stability = false; $stability to 100>> <<set $chakra = "Not Chosen">> /* Personality */ <<set $stat_optimism = false>> <<set $fame to 0; $rep to 50>> <<set $pious to 0; $stealth to 0; $combat to 0; $persuade to 0; $intimidate to 0>> <<set $honesty to 50; $allforone to 50; $hostile to 50; $smug to 50; $care to 50>> /* Specifics */ /* Cimmerians */<<set $taint to 0>> /* Ecrid */<<set $empathy to 50>> /* NA */<<set $optimism to 50>> /* NA */<<set $temptation = "na">> /* Abilities */ <<set $knowledge = false>> <<set $archery = false>> <<set $singing = false>> <<set $pickpocket = false>> /* Spells */ <<set $spell_FrostTrap = false>> <<set $spell_LieDetection = false>> <<set $spell_Enhance = false>> /* Relationships */ <<set $flirt_isaak = false; $flirt_averill = false; $flirt_thorne = false; $flirt_tsintah = false; $flirt_numira = false>> <<set $IsaakAlexander = false; $isaak to 50; $isaakLi to 0; $crushStatus to "">> <<set $AnsellusWarren = false; $ansellus to 30; $ans_defense to false>> <<set $OpalWarriorMarabi = false; $marabi to 50>> <<set $AverillFyre = false; $averill to 50; $averillLi to 0>> <<set $agender to "man"; $ahe to "he"; $aHe to "He"; $ahim to "him"; $aHim to "Him"; $ahis to "his"; $aHis to "His"; $ahimself to "himself">> <<set $TsintahasherikhalaNelero = false; $tsintah to 30; $tsintahLi to 0>> <<set $ko to 0; $koT to "you have yet to meet Korisi">> <<set $ThorneMerc = false; $thorne to 40; $thorneLi to 0; $thornePurpose to "unknown"; $thorneNN to "na"; $notrealname = false; $thornename to "Thorne">> <<set $NumiraSin = false; $numira to 50; $numiraLi to 0; $numiraknown = false>> <<set $poly to 0>> <<set $audouin to 0; $dad = false>> /* Injuries */ <<set $injury_ankle = false>> <<set $injury_arm = false>> <<set $headache = false>> /* Misc Story Variables */ <<set $visit = false>> /* The Game Variables */ <<set $playcatch = false>> <<set $queen to 0>> <<set $mercy = false>> <<set $noose = false>> <<set $strip = false>> <<set $truthknown_tsintah = false; $truthknown_thorne = false>> <<set $chikrinOff = false>> <<set $courtknows_queen = false; $courtknows_king = false>> <<set $bastardroyalty = false>> <<set $side to 50>> <<set $neleroApproval to 0>> <<set $ladyLilion = false>> <<set $evidence_queendoc = false; $evidence_lordfarrimond = false; $evidence_cultist = false; $evidence_bastardchild = false>> <<set $tattooMan = false>> <<set $hostage = false>> <<set $truth_clone = false; $truth_master = false>> /* Inventories */ <<set $weaponInventory to new Inventory()>> <<set $clothingInventory to new Inventory()>> <<set $miscInventory to new Inventory()>> /* Music */ <<cacheaudio "prologue" "audio/gasping_for_air.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "fair" "audio/medieval_fair.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "eclipse" "audio/among_the_stars.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "masterdeath" "audio/peaceful_native_vocals.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambience1" "audio/meditative_soundscape.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambience2" "audio/soft_piano.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambience3" "audio/ambient_calm.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambience4" "audio/magical_fantasy.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "ambience5" "audio/through_the_ages.wav">> <<cacheaudio "ambience6" "audio/enlightment.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark1" "audio/dark_journey.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark2" "audio/dark_underscore.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark3" "audio/darkness.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark4" "audio/darkomen.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "dark5" "audio/mysterious_fantasy_gloomychoir.mp3">> <<createplaylist "ambience">> <<track "ambience1" volume 0.35>> <<track "ambience2" volume 0.35>> <<track "ambience3" volume 0.35>> <<track "ambience4" volume 0.35>> <<track "ambience5" volume 0.35>> <<track "ambience6" volume 0.35>> <</createplaylist>> <<createplaylist "dark">> <<track "dark1" volume 0.35>> <<track "dark2" volume 0.35>> <<track "dark3" volume 0.35>> <<track "dark4" volume 0.35>> <<track "dark5" volume 0.35>> <</createplaylist>>
<span class="sidenote">Click the category images for a more detailed look at your stats and choices.</span> <a data-passage="Personal"><img class="img-invert" src="images/personal.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a> ''Name'': $name $surname ''Species'': $species <<if $species is "Cimmerian">>\ ''Taint'': $taint <</if>>\ ''Notoriety'': $fame ''Ruho'': $ruho <<if $stat_stability>>\ ''Stability'': $stability <</if>>\ ''Devotion'': $pious ''Covertness'': $stealth ''Combat'': $combat ''Persuasion'': $persuade ''Intimidation'': $intimidate <<if $species is "Ecrid">>\ ''Empathy'': $empathy <</if>>\ <<if $stat_optimism>>\ ''Optimism'': $optimism <</if>>\ <a data-passage="MagicSkills"><img class="img-invert" src="images/magic.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a> ''Spell Knowledge'': $spells ''Energy'': $energy ''Body'': $body ''Chaos'': $chaos ''Healing'': $heal ''Spiritual'': $spirit ''Tarot'': $tarot <a data-passage="Relationships"><img class="img-invert" src="images/relationships.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a> <<if $IsaakAlexander>>\ ''Isaak Alexander'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$isaak" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $AverillFyre>>\ ''Averill Fyre'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$averill" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $TsintahasherikhalaNelero>>\ ''Tsintah'asherikhala Nelero'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$tsintah" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $ThorneMerc>>\ ''Thorne'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$thorne" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $NumiraSin>>\ ''Numira Sin'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$numira" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $OpalWarriorMarabi>>\ ''Marabi'' Loyalty: <meter @value="$marabi" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ <<if $startthegame>>\ <a data-passage="Gameplay"><img class="img-invert" src="images/story_game.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a> ''The Crown vs. The Rebellion'' <meter @value="$side" min="0" max="100"></meter> <</if>>\ /*Story starts here*/
@@.center; Political intrigue, mysterious origins, a powerful cult, and a world waiting to be discovered await you. You are a famous witch, yearning for nothing more than to learn all the branches to rise from apprentice to master. Your unique abilities, however, allow you to help those in need. But what will you do when you can’t even help yourself when your life is threatened? Everything changes when an unknown foe enters your life and begins to knock you down, block by block. A simple journey takes a turn for the worst as you go from wanting to clear your name to deciding where your future will end. In ''The Game'', go from famed witch to the most wanted person in all of Nidinia. Will you side with the old or with the new? Join the side of a rising rebellion, or help squash them? Will those who once jeered you once again praise your name? Or will you be a mere whisper among the wind? <<message 'Click for Features'>>\ * Customize your own gender pronouns and choose a back-story that can affect your future. * Choose from five different species and watch your story and interactions change. * Five romanceable characters with different backgrounds and goals. * Delve into a magic system consisting of your own specialized magic, unique spells, and more. * Immerse yourself in a high fantasy world. * Multiple ways to affect the world around you and multiple endings each with their own consequences. <</message>> @@ <a data-passage="Setup"><img src="images/playthegame.png" alt="Play the Game" width="50%" align ="center"></a> <a data-passage="Credits"><img src="images/credits.png" alt="Credits" width="50%" align ="center"></a>
Before you delve into the game, let’s get a few character-building choices out of the way. Further character customization will happen later. And, as a side note, you can check out your stats in the sidebar to the right and there is a [[Compendium]] in the left sidebar that holds a map of the country and a glossary for any terms that you may be confused about. Let’s first start with your species. There are four options that you can choose from: <<link 'cimmerian'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Cimmerian'' (Sim-er-re-an): Created by the High God Darkness, these creatures of the night have been shunned by the gods and other species alike. Many of those that have met cimmerians gain a neutral impression of them after, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t heard the rumors of these dark creatures. Hospitality is rare to come by, but those who give it are of the kindest and wisest of hearts. Cimmerians possess pale toned skin that can be found in shades of white, grey, brown, and black. Their hair color is the opposite of their skin, i.e., a cimmerian with a darker skin tone will have lighter hair, and a lighter toned cimmerian will have darker hair. Cimmerians possess vertical slit pupils and their iris can be red, white, black, and though uncommon, a golden-brown. Their ears are identical to alyrians and are more rounded than ending off with a tip. Choosing the cimmerian species gives the following: *Taint stat: When the individual commits an evil deed, their taint awakens and begins to spread through them. Though this will not kill a cimmerian, it has the potential to infect others and the environment around them if too high. *Ability to turn into a shadow *+20 Covertness *+10 in Chaos magic specialty<</dialog>><</link>>, <<link 'ecrid'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Ecrid'' (Eh-krid): The ecrid are a species of expressive individuals who favor their freedom and travel. Though it’s not strange for the ecrid to settle in one place, their long lives always lead them towards change. Many of those who have met an ecrid note that the species are relatively peaceful and value emotions. Their emotions are so much a part of them that it is even believed, though not exactly proven, that all ecrid are empaths. Ecrid hardly earn the ire of other species due to their calm personas and ability to blend in with crowds. All ecrid possess a feline-like tail that only differ in color and pattern. They also possess a pair of horns that grow with the individual, allowing for one to tell how old they are by counting the indents that rest along the horn. These horns can grow in a variety of different ways, with some older ecrid finding that they need to cut them off to avoid injury. The ecrid have two small upper fangs, and medium-sized speck markings that go from one cheek to the other called //nashi//. Their nashi matches the color of their eyes, which can be a wide array of natural and unnatural colors. Choosing the ecrid species gives the following: *Empathy stat: When the individual is in tune with their emotional side, they have a better chance to read and understand the emotions of others they are around, but this can also open themselves up to a barrage of emotions not their own. *+10 Covertness *+10 in Spiritual magic specialty<</dialog>><</link>>, <<link 'uqanan'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Uqanan'' (Oo-qua-nan): The legend says that when the deities of blood, war, and glory met, they had asked the High Gods for permission to create a species that encapsulates all of their greatness. And so, the uqanan was born. A species of strong, tall, and proud people who, if not inspiring fear at first glance, do call for respect. Many will be fearful of meeting a uqanan, especially if that meeting place is one that garners combat. Others are merely shy, though a few will not think twice on letting their prejudice shine through. The uqanan people are one of the tallest species that belong to Jiwenia with hardly any being shorter than 5'10. Along with their tall stature, many of them are also well-built, mostly muscle, though their are exceptions. Their skin tones are typically different shades of either grey, brown, purple, or green, and their hair can be any shade of red, brown, black, and blonde. Their eyes only exist in natural shades. Uqanan have two thick tusks along their bottom row of teeth, long enough to poke out of their mouth and rest along their upper lip. They also have small ears with a slight point to them. Choosing the uqanan species gives the following: * +20 Intimidation * +10 in Body magic specialty * Ability to enter rage mode<</dialog>><</link>>, <<link 'phaizarn'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Phaizarn'' (Hai-zurn): A biped species with the ability to shift into specific animals. Some of these animals are well-known, with genuine animal counterparts being found in the world. Others are chimeras, crossbreeds that only exist due to phaizarn influence. Those born with the inability to shift due to a genetic mutation are known as ‘mutts’ or ‘runts’ in phaizarn culture, and are frowned upon by most phaizarns. Beating out all other species, phaizarn have the highest population count, followed by that of the alyrian and behind them ecrid. Due to this, phaizarn are warmly welcomed by communities and typically are regarded with a friendly air. Choosing the phaizarn species gives the following: * +20 to Fame (and additional +2/-2 with every Fame addition) * +10 in Tarot magic specialty * Ability to shift into a sabertooth<</dialog>><</link>>, and <<link 'kren'>><<dialog 'Codex Entry'>>''Kren'': Created by both Sun and Moon, the kren people originate from the mighty forests that they have all known at least once in their immortal lives. Being the first species upon Jiwenia, the kren are a proud race of individuals who still treasure their connection with the gods. The spirit of the land calls to them, and after all this time, they can still answer. The kren are an ageless race from a wider species known as kre. By the age of 100, they stop maturing (though it should be noted that this is still young by kre standards). Unlike the other races, the kren see a wide variety of natural tones. They have small outward pointed ears, slanted eyes, and convex noses - though there are exceptions to this. Both their eyes and hair only exist in natural shades but it should be noted that their eyes, like the kreani, glow in the dark. Feelings towards the kren differ greatly between envious and neutral. Many do not speak nor act on these feelings though and keep their thoughts to themselves. Choosing the kren species gives the following: * +20 Devotion * +10 in Healing magic specialty * Ability to acquire a familiar<</dialog>><</link>>. Each species will change what you look like and the customization that you’ll be met with later on in the story. Your species will also affect your initial stats, future story gameplay, your initial proficiency at specific specialist magic, and how others will view and react to you. [[Cimmerian.|Pronouns][$species to "cimmerian"; $chaos +=10; $stealth +=20; $empathy to 0]] [[Ecrid.|Pronouns][$species to "ecrid"; $stealth +=20; $spirit +=10]] [[Uqanan.|Pronouns][$species to "uqanan"; $body +=10; $persuade +=20; $empathy to 0]] [[Phaizarn.|PhaizarnApp][$species to "phaizarn"; $tarot +=10; $empathy to 0]] [[Kren.|Pronouns][$species to "kren"; $heal +=10; $pious +=20; $empathy to 0]]
You are a sabertooth phaizarn that can possibly have genetic mutations that effect your appearance. This simply means that you were born with features of your animal side (i.e. a tail) showing. If you wish for this to be true, then check the appropriate boxes. <<message 'Click for Detailed Explanation and Lore Help'>>* All sabertooth have bob tails. Short and with a tuft of fur covering the muscle of the tail. * The ears are the common rounded ears that most large felines (like lions and tigers) have. * Patterns are never truly expanded on to allow you, as the reader, to headcanon what you wish. They are at most referenced to, and stated that they exist and can be seen on specific parts of the Apprentice's body which is the face, shoulders, and back. (i.e. Character A trails a finger across the patterns existing on your face.) * The coloring of phaizarn is based on genetics. Eye color will always stay the same so the sabertooth version will also have the blind appearing eyes. The coat and coloring is based off of family genetics, as well as following the coloring of the species. I.e. Sabertooth will always be in shades of brown, black, and white. Markings along the body will always be the exact same color for both bipedal and animal form.<</message>> Additional Appearance Factors: (Choose right before moving on.)<<set $app_tail = false; $app_ears = false; $app_pattern = false; $app_none = false>> <<checkboxPlus "$app_tail" "Tail">>\ <<checkboxPlus "$app_ears" "Ears">>\ <<checkboxPlus "$app_pattern" "Patterning">>\ <<checkboxPlus "$app_none" "None">> <a data-passage="Pronouns"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<if $app_none>> <<set $app_tail to false; $app_ears to false; $app_pattern to false>> <</if>> <</nobr>>\ Here, you will choose your pronouns. You can change these any time you like, just view the left sidebar and go to ''Settings''. <<link 'Choose Pronouns Here'>> <<pronouns>> <</link>> Now your sex and gender. Your gender can influence how certain characters treat you and what some expect of you. Note that if you choose ''No Disclose'' as your sex then sex scenes, regardless of the explicit content being on/off, will be modified. <<set _sex = ["No Disclose", "Penis", "Vagina"]>>''Select sex:'' <<listbox "$sex">> <<optionsfrom _sex>> <</listbox>> ''Sex:'' <span id="sex-info">(nothing)</span><<script>> $(document).one(":passagerender", function (event) { /* Initial display of text pulled from the "Sex Info X" passages. */ $(event.content).find("#sex-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Sex Info " + State.variables.sex + "'>>"); /* Trigger text display upon listbox change. */ $(event.content).find("#listbox-sex").on("change", function (event) { /* Fade out text. */ $("#sex-info").fadeOut(500, function () { /* Update text and then fade it back in. */ $("#sex-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Sex Info " + State.variables.sex + "'>>").fadeIn(500); }); }); }); <</script>> <<set _gender = ["Cis Male", "Trans Male", "Cis Female", "Trans Female", "Nonbinary"]>>''Select gender:'' <<listbox "$gender">> <<optionsfrom _gender>> <</listbox>> ''Gender:'' <span id="gender-info">(nothing)</span><<script>> $(document).one(":passagerender", function (event) { /* Initial display of text pulled from the "gender Info X" passages. */ $(event.content).find("#gender-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Gender Info " + State.variables.gender + "'>>"); /* Trigger text display upon listbox change. */ $(event.content).find("#listbox-gender").on("change", function (event) { /* Fade out text. */ $("#gender-info").fadeOut(500, function () { /* Update text and then fade it back in. */ $("#gender-info").empty().wiki("<<include 'Gender Info " + State.variables.gender + "'>>").fadeIn(500); }); }); }); <</script>> <a data-passage="Attraction"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Below you can choose: your gender interests, how you feel about sexual advances as well as sexual attraction, and your approach to romantic advances. Be aware that though limited, there are a few flings that exist and certain choices will exclude the option. //Choosing none regarding gender interest will lock out all possible romances.// ''Gender Interest'' <<if ndef $int>><<set $int = "none">><</if>><<listbox "$int">> <<option "None" "none" `$int == "none" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Men" "men" `$int == "men" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Women" "women" `$int == "women" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "All" "all" `$int == "all" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> //Below, choose your sexual attraction and advances. High attraction means you are sexually attracted to others and sex scenes will always appear and other characters can make advances. Low attraction means that though you do feel sexual attraction, all choices rely on the Apprentice's actions and characters will not make advancements. Non-existent attraction means that you are not sexually attracted to others and sex scenes and sexually toned choices will not appear.// ''Sexual Attraction & Advances'' <<if ndef $s_att>><<set $s_att = "present">><</if>><<listbox "$high">> <<option "High Attraction" "high" `$s_att == "high" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Low Attraction" "low" `$s_att == "low" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Non-existent Attraction" "none" `$s_att == "none" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> //And lastly, your approach to romantic advances. Present attraction means you are romantically attracted to others and characters are free to make advances. Absent attraction means that you are not romantically attracted to others and characters will not make advances. Romantic choices will still appear for the Apprentice.// Not all characters can be romanced with an 'Absent Attraction' character. Characters: ''Thorne'', ''Isaak'', and ''Averill'', can only be romanced by a 'Present Attraction' character. ''Romance Attraction & Advances'' <<if ndef $r_att>><<set $r_att = "pres">><</if>><<listbox "$present">> <<option "Present Attraction" "True" `$r_att == "pres" ? "selected" : ""`>> <<option "Absent Attraction" "True" `$r_att == "abs" ? "selected" : ""`>> <</listbox>> <a data-passage="Name"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<if ($int is "men" or $int is "all") and ($r_att is "present")>> <<set $flirt_thorne to true; $flirt_isaak to true; $flirt_averill to true>> <</if>> <<if $int is "women" or $int is "all">> <<set $flirt_tsintah to true; $flirt_numira to true>> <</if>> <</nobr>>\ Now onto a name. There are three possibilities for this: a [[default name]], a <<if $species isnot "phaizarn">>[[species specific name]]<<else>>species specific name<</if>>, or the ability to [[input your own name|0Input]]. * A ''[[default name]]'' provides a list of names that, though are lore-friendly, are not species-specific. * ''<<if $species isnot "phaizarn">>[[Species specific|species specific name]]<<else>>Species specific<</if>>'' names are both lore-friendly and names that fit with the naming traditions of the specific species. There are no species specific names for phaizarns. * ''[[Inputting your own name|0Input]]'' will allow you the ability to type in your own desired name.
[[Alarai|Surname][$name = "Alarai"]] [[Akeno|Surname][$name = "Akeno"]] [[Dagger|Surname][$name = "Dagger"]] [[Mirage|Surname][$name = "Mirage"]] [[Carter|Surname][$name = "Carter"]] [[Tarod|Surname][$name = "Tarod"]] [[Symon|Surname][$name = "Symon"]] [[Naesala|Surname][$name = "Naesala"]] [[Rajani|Surname][$name = "Rajani"]] [[Input your own name.|0Input]] [[Choose another kind of name category.|Name]]
<<if $species is "cimmerian">>\ Cimmerian names usually end with -in, -an, -yn, and -en and typically hold three syllables max. [[Gavin|Surname][$name = "Gavin"]] [[Ronan|Surname][$name = "Ronan"]] [[Adrian|Surname][$name = "Adrian"]] [[Enasalyn|Surname][$name = "Enasalyn"]] [[Kaiden|Surname][$name = "Kaiden"]] [[Lee|Surname][$name = "Lee"]] [[Input your own name.|0Input]] [[Choose another kind of name category.|Name]] <<elseif $species is "kren">>\ [[Dealara|Surname][$name = "Dealara"]] [[Ciradyl|Surname][$name = "Ciradyl"]] [[Valtris|Surname][$name = "Valtris"]] [[Alanis|Surname][$name = "Alanis"]] [[Ruvaen|Surname][$name = "Ruvaen"]] [[Areo|Surname][$name = "Areo"]] [[Phrann|Surname][$name = "Phrann"]] [[Input your own name.|0Input]] [[Choose another kind of name category.|Name]] <<elseif $species is "uqanan">>\ [[Janto|Surname][$name = "Janto"]] [[Niyope|Surname][$name = "Niyope"]] [[Lirodi|Surname][$name = "Lirodi"]] [[Murato|Surname][$name = "Murato"]] [[Kifedeyi|Surname][$name = "Kifedeyi"]] [[Tiamia|Surname][$name = "Tiamia"]] [[Shanik|Surname][$name = "Shanik"]] [[Input your own name.|0Input]] [[Choose another kind of name category.|Name]] <<else>>\ Ecrid names are often associated with a color, flower, tree, emotion, theme, and/or feeling. [[Slate|Surname][$name = "Slate"]] [[Cypress|Surname][$name = "Cypress"]] [[Feather|Surname][$name = "Feather"]] [[Blythe|Surname][$name = "Blythe"]] [[Promise|Surname][$name = "Promise"]] [[Infinity|Surname][$name = "Infinity"]] [[Chance|Surname][$name = "Chance"]] [[Input your own name.|0Input]] [[Choose another kind of name category.|Name]] <</if>>\
<<textbox "$name" "" autofocus>><<button "Enter">><<replace "#name">>Nice to meet you, $name.<</replace>><</button>> <span id="name"></span> <a data-passage="Surname"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
Let us speak about your surname. In Jiwenia, it is not uncommon for one to go about life without one depending on the species and place. * The majority of ecrid do not have a surname. * Both kren and cimmerian do have full naming traditions that one will find out more as the story progresses. * Uqanans typically choose their own surname. They should be true to one own's personality and pretty much on the nose (i.e. Doomhammer would be for a warrior; TeaRose for someone who likes flowers and tea). * Phaizarn usually take on their families surname. No family simply means no surname. You can either create a surname now, wait to learn more about your species and their naming tradition, or just go without one at all. [[Sauze.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Sauze"]] [[Castenteau.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Castenteau"]] [[Swifthammer.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Swifthammer"]] [[Redcrest.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Redcrest"]] [[Aramaer.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Aramaer"]] [[Wysaven.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Wysaven"]] [[Remint.|ReadyUp][$surname = "Remint"]] [[Input Your Own Surname]] [[Go without one for now.|ReadyUp][$surname = ""]]
<<textbox "$surname" "" autofocus>><<button "Enter">><<replace "#surname">>Nice to meet you, $name $surname.<</replace>><</button>> <span id="surname"></span> <a data-passage="ReadyUp"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "phaizarn">>\ <<set $fame to 100>> <<else>>\ <<set $fame to 80>> <</if>>\ <</nobr>>\ <a data-passage="P1"><img class="img-invert" src="images/title.png" alt="Continue" width="40%"></a>
<<audio "prologue" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.40>> Run. Don’t look back. Run. Escape. Run. It’s coming. Breath, tickling the back of a neck. Gasping. Panicked. Frantic for air. Legs, burning as they continue on. Farther, farther, almost there. Frozen. The world spins, sight diminishing. Moon and Sun, hiding their faces in shame. Darkness, turning his back. Floundering. A wicked voice. Toxic hands. Corruption. Pain. Hatred. Blood raining from the sky, dotting the grass, coating the soil. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Fire sets the lungs ablaze. Stillness. Darkness, unlike any other. Thrashing and trying to open eyes. Taken. <a data-passage="P2"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
<img src="images/divider.png"> I shoot forward, heart-pounding as the effects of the nightmare begin to fade. My head pulsates, comparable to how it always does after receiving such a cryptic dream. But the nightmares are still the worst ones, always the ones that hold messages that feel more like enigmas. I rub my eyes as I shiver. My eyes! I dart to my feet and go to the only mirror in my small hut, clenching it tightly as I hold it up next to the dying candle resting on my table. I stare back at two milky, seafoam-colored orbs, neither possessing a discernible pupil. They’re still there. I move the mirror away and close my eyes, wrestling my previous thoughts back into a state of absence. [[“It was just a dream. Only a dream …”|P2JustADream]] [[“Oh, thank the High Gods.”|P2ThankHighGods]] [[“What kind of dream was that?”|P2WhatKindOfDream]] [[Try to calm down.|P2CalmDown]]
“It was just a dream,” I tell myself, repeating the words softly as I attempt to reassure myself. And yet, I feel no reassurance. The words I utter are just as empty as my eye sockets a moment ago. The next moment, I get to my feet, and I dart out of my cottage, heading down the familiar road to another. <<include "P3">>
I let out a deep sigh, hanging my head as I murmur the words, “oh, thank the High Gods.” I slowly look back down at my reflection, clenching my eyes closed. The proof doesn’t cause my heart to calm. Instead, I dart out of my cottage and head down the familiar road to another. <<include "P3">>
I’ve had dreams before, nightmares that kept me up at night. But never have I felt so personally attacked during one. A feeling of being utterly helpless overwhelming and strangling me. “What kind of dream was that?” I ask aloud to no one. I believe that questioning it and deciphering each tiny detail I can recall will help. But it doesn’t. Reassurance crumbles, and I find my heart still pounding at the sight of my missing eyes. Realizing that sitting in my small home alone will do nothing for me, I rush to my feet and dart out of my cottage, heading down the familiar road to another. <<include "P3">>
My eyes were there. I was okay. It was only a dream. All of that was just a dream. I take numerous deep breaths in an attempt to calm my racing heart. My gaze darts from one corner to another as I search for something to help me. Something that will cause me to anchor myself back to the now. When I find that nothing works, another idea comes to mind. I rush to my feet and dart out of the cottage, heading down the familiar road to another. <<include "P3">>
“Master!” I shout, forgetting to knock or show any other form of pleasantries that one would upon entering another’s dwelling. My master jumps in his seat, the quill slipping freely across the once clean alabaster parchment at the sudden interruption. “Goodness. You scared me, $name. And at such a late hour. Whatever could be the matter?” “I had another one,” I tell him, pacing back and forth across his tiny living space. I bite my cheek as random images of the dream come to me, each more mysterious than the last. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first,” he reminds, placing his quill down and wincing at the look of his now sullied parchment. [[“My apologies.”|P3Apologies][$hostile -=10]] [[“Don’t patronize me.”|P3PatronizeMe][$hostile +=10]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> “My apologies,” I murmur, but he quickly dismisses my apology before it can fully form. “It’s of no consequence. The line is a suitable replacement compared to the dribble I was about to scrawl out.” He turns to me, remaining in his seat as he takes my appearance in, “now, about this dream.” <<include "P4">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> “Don’t patronize me,” I snarl, and he raises his hand in surrender. “It was not my intention to do such a thing. Now, how about you tell me about this dream.” <<include "P4">>
He leads me over to a wooden chair mostly veiled beneath a giant wolf pelt, used to provide a hint of comfort. Before I can begin recounting, he walks off, coming back a minute later with a cup he passes to me. Immediately, I detect traces of lemon and ginger and find it hard to miss a favorite ingredient of his – marjoram. One whiff of the tea has my senses calming and my headache subsiding, though I note that my heart rapidly scuttles on. “I watched myself run through the woods. Something was chasing me, but the fog deterred me from seeing it. It was so close,” I whisper, clenching the mug tighter and letting the warmth seep through my skin. It grounds me and allows me to mollify and focus my thoughts. “But I kept going. I didn’t stop. Still, it got me. The mere touch of whatever this thing was, crept along my arm. The aura of the forest changed drastically, and my senses felt overloaded. And then, I was alone. Nowhere to turn. A figure was walking off, a trail of white blood following them like a loyal hound. They dissolved into the fog. And then … there was a mirror.” _I dig my nails into the cup and, with trembling hands, bring it to my lips for a long swig. “My eyes were gone. I stared into the mirror, but my eyes weren’t there. I expected to see white blood trailing down my cheeks, but it was black.” I shake my head in confusion, refusing to finish the thought as I glance towards my quiet master. He sits in a chair nearby, stroking his dark brown beard while staring into a fire that fails to warm me. His<<if $species is not "ecrid">> feline-appearing<</if>> tail flicks back and forth mesmerizingly, and I use it in an attempt to divert my attention, watching as it swings, and yet it changes nothing. “Do you believe this figure took your eyes?” he finally asks. My gaze narrows as I study the fire, wishing that the incandescent flames before me held an unbiased answer. [[“Yes, and I want answers.”|P4YesAnswers][$smug +=10; $care -=10]] [[“No, it doesn’t make sense.”|P4NoSense][$smug -=10; $care -=10]] [[“Yes, and it terrifies me.”|P4YesTerrifying][$smug +=10; $care +=10]] [[“I don’t know! I don’t care!”|P4IDKIDC][$smug -=10; $care +=10]]
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy -=10>><</if>> <</nobr>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++ / Logical ++</span><</if>> “I do. The white blood trailing behind them as they disappeared. The coincidence that I lose them as soon as they finally show themselves.” “You don’t think you might’ve not had them the entire time?” I shake my head, “at the beginning of my dream, I was outside my body. As soon as the figure caught me, I was pulled right back in. Every painful sensation that coursed through me was mine to bear. Whatever it was, whatever it did, I want to know how. I want to know what it wants and why //my// eyes.” “Yet, that can still mean that your eyes had been missing since the beginning,” my master points out, squinting at nothing in particular as he speaks. <<include "P5">>
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy -=10>><</if>> <</nobr>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++ / Logical ++</span><</if>> “I don’t. I can’t say when my eyes vanished, especially seeing that I’m more curious about how I could see that they were missing. That part wasn’t an out-of-body experience. I was me. I should be blind.” “A dream will always defy logic. You know that,” my master says, though his voice lacks the reprimanding tone that his words would otherwise insinuate. <<include "P5">>
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy +=10>><</if>> <</nobr>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Cocky ++ / Emotional ++</span><</if>> “I do. The white blood trailing behind them as they disappeared. The coincidence that I lose them as soon as they finally show themselves.” “You don’t think you might’ve not had them the entire time?” I shake my head, “at the beginning of my dream, I was outside my body. As soon as the figure caught me, I was pulled right back in. Every painful sensation that coursed through me was mine to bear. And that alone scares me. It felt //so// real. Real enough that I woke up and the first thing I did was grab a mirror. I don’t care who it was. I just don’t ever want to go through that again.” “Yet, that can still mean that your eyes had been missing since the beginning,” my master points out, squinting at nothing in particular as he speaks. <<include "P5">>
<<nobr>>\ <<if $species is "ecrid">><<set $empathy +=10>><</if>> <</nobr>>\ <<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Humble ++ / Emotional ++</span><</if>> “Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know, and I don’t care! I just want to forget that nightmare and the image of me without my eyes. I know it was just a nightmare, but it all felt so violating.” “An understandable reaction. Someone or something had taken something dear to you. It’s only natural to feel such a way.” <<include "P5">>
“This helps me none!” I growl, pushing myself up to pace again. “Your nightmares hardly ever make sense to me,” he admits, standing and motioning for me to follow, “and I can only think of one thing that can aid us.” I follow behind him into his workroom, the room that I spend most of my time in. It was a mess, unlike the rest of his tidy house. Books and papers are strewn everywhere while ingredients rest upon the table and the floor, and diagrams and markings adorn the walls. My gaze transfixed on the vast cauldron that rests in the middle of the room, the fire long since extinguished from underneath. “Would you like to see if the cauldron can supply you with an answer?” On the one hand, the cauldron might indeed be able to help. I have personally seen its abilities for myself. But it has a way of muddling riddles that one would think couldn’t possibly be any more intricate. And yet, I cannot see this dream becoming any more convoluted than it already is. “Let us,” I tell my master, and he nods his head as he rushes around, grabbing ingredients. He must pause to check something in his notes from time to time. But once satisfied, he goes back to running about. He hands me most of the components, trusting me to put the right amount inside even as I multitask in an attempt to clear my mind. Placing my hands on both sides of the cauldron, I close my eyes as my master lights the fire and then whispers the foreign words of a spell. The cauldron bubbles to life, each word he speaks causes the intensity of the water to increase. <a data-passage="P6"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I focus on the bubbling water within, recalling as much of my nightmare as possible. The sweat that dribbled down my face as I ran, the fatigue of my muscles, the burning and hissing of my skin under the touch of another, and then finally, the feeling of hot blood gushing between my fingers. The shock of seeing my eyes gone. That thick, porcelain-toned blood surrounds me. Something beneath it grabs at me, clutching my ankles and yanking me down. Gasping. Clawing for air. I find myself breathing heavily as the last of the cauldron’s bubbles die down. Master Audouin reaches out towards me, worry and bewilderment clear in his golden eyes. [[Let him. (You are okay with touch.)|P6.1]] [[Shake your head. (You are touch averse.)|P6.1][$notouchy to true]]
Once the happening has subsided, we both lean in with interest, watching as the water jags from side to side. Occasionally it spikes before calming once again. And then images begin to appear. Sun and Moon holding hands in the sky as Darkness looks on in jealousy. A scar lying along the ground. A gaping maw barely hidden behind tempestuous ripples. A hill made of skulls and drenched in blood. A shadow appears on the horizon, growing in strength. Devil creatures clawing the land. But which to focus on? [[The gods.|P6Gods]] [[The scar.|P6Scar]] [[The hill.|P6Hill]] [[The shadow.|P6Shadow]]
I focus on the image concerning the gods. Sun and Moon, brother and sister, look upon one another with love brimming their hearts. Two starkly different personalities, but they can still find room in themselves to admire the other’s flaws and strengths. Behind them resides Darkness, staring on at the duo with contempt in his heart and hot-blooded malice pulsing through his veins. I am sure that if it weren’t for his love for Moon, he would have attempted to strike both figures. All three figures exist in the same space at once. Sun and Moon, oblivious to Darkness, focused only on each other. But what does this scene have to do with me and my dream? <a data-passage="P7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I focus my attention on the scar that now lies across the ground. Besides a few weeds attempting to claim the land as theirs, the landscape lies barren. And yet, despite this, I do not feel it is because everything is dead. Instead, I surmise that it is waiting for an opportunity to finally grow. The scar itself is thick, and the more I focus on it, the more I can see it widening, threatening to swallow all if not healed properly. I stare into the depths of that scar, and a dozen eyes stare back, their veined eyes illuminating the otherwise dark crevice. The thin slits that replace their pupils stare back at me questionably. They don’t as much question my intentions but challenge me. Challenging me and pondering if I can genuinely survive amongst them. <a data-passage="P7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
I decided to focus my attention on the image of the hill. It is like no other hill, predominantly because it is made out of bones and skulls, covered entirely in blood. One can easily see how this hill is made: the dirt replaced by bones and the grass with blood. But I am less understanding of what this has to do with my nightmare or me. Hills like this don’t exist, as far as I know. Perhaps they do with people in faraway lands, with sharp traditions and unwavering mindsets. Was this a clue? A warning? <a data-passage="P7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
This is by far the busiest image, so I focus on it. A shadow breaches the horizon, and it grows in size with every passing second. Strange devil-like creatures claw their way up through the ground. The clues within this one appear as if they are slapping me across the face with their obviousness, yet they aren’t. The creatures rising can be a sign of necromancy or simply saying that what is dead may not stay that way. The shadow figure can be whatever should be dead, rising. Or, it can be the necromancer themself. I know that witches like this exist, most of them being one of the Kre or a Cimmerian. But that still gives me no clear understanding of my involvement. <a data-passage="P7"><img src="images/continue.png" alt="Continue" style="float:right"/></a>
Before I can study another, the images disappear and are replaced by an image of my eye-less face. I jump back as the last vision appears. Though the water remains flat, it feels like the image lunges towards me, attempting to capture me … straining to reach my eyes. I find myself on the ground, my heart pounding as the fire from the cauldron extinguishes, bathing the house in silence and darkness. “Master?” I call out, trembling limbs grasping for purchase and stabilization. I find him near the cauldron, his gaze on the darkly tinted water. “Do you see that?” I look into the water and see nothing but the calm water. “No,” I speak. <<if $species is "kren" or $species is "cimmerian">>I lean forward in an attempt to make out whatever he speaks of better when his hand grabs my wrist<<else>>I gaze around for something to light. Still, before I can move to find such an object, his hand grabs my wrist<</if>>, tightening around it. <<if $notouchy is "none">>I steady my breathing and the instant displeasure that fuels me due to his touch. I glare at him to find that he is staring at me intensely, his eyes boring<<else>>His eyes on me, boring<</if>> into mine as if I am nothing more than a stranger from his past. “There they are … they look so …” he whispers, his voice quavering as his grip tightens. [[“Master, please, release me.”|P7PReleaseMe][$hostile -=10]] [[“Release me, old man!”|P7ReleaseMe][$hostile +=10]] [[Yank my arm back.|P4YankArm]]
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Peaceful ++</span><</if>> “Master, please, release me.” He does as I ask, and I see his figure jump slightly, as if he didn’t even know he had been doing the action. I give him a worried glance before going off to search for a candle and upon finding one, light it. But as soon as the light appears, it vanishes. Only the trail of smoke ever telling me that there was ever a fire in the first place. <<include "P8">>
<<if settings.statShow>><span class="stats">Hostile ++</span><</if>> “Release me, old man!” I demand, pulling on my arm as I narrow my gaze. He does as I command, and I see his figure jump slightly, as if he didn’t even know he had been doing the action. I give him a worried glance before going off to search for a candle and upon finding one, light it. But as soon as the light appears, it vanishes. Only the trail of smoke ever telling me that there was ever a fire in the first place. <<include "P8">>
As soon as his grip tightens, I brace myself and yank my arm out of his grip. I tenderly massage it and throw a look his way, though I doubt he can see my expression due to the darkness. I turn my back to him, walking away to search for a candle and upon finding one, light it. But as soon as the light appears, it vanishes. Only the trail of smoke ever telling me that there was ever a fire in the first place. <<include "P8">>
Goosebumps race down my arm as my heart stutters. “$name,” I hear my master call out. He is no longer by the cauldron but on the other side of the room, walking in through the side door with a book in hand. He lights his palm on fire and passes me a quizzical look. “What happened?” I furrow my brow, “Master? How did you get over there? And with that book?” “I left some time ago to grab my symbolism notes,” he starts, resting the book on his desk, “may I ask why you extinguished the fire? Did you find what you were searching for?” The chill from earlier again runs down my spine as I look at the empty space near the cauldron. My master’s fireball suddenly extinguishes as a gust of wind rocks the room, scattering papers and opening once closed books. I brace as it grows stronger, carrying with it a haunting voice. “I see you.” <a data-passage="Chapter One"><img src="images/next.png" alt="Continue" style="float:center"/></a>
<<silently>> <<if $fame >100>>\ <<set $fame to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $fame <0>>\ <<set $fame to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $honesty >100>>\ <<set $honesty to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $honesty <0>>\ <<set $honesty to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $allforone >100>>\ <<set $allforone to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $allforone <0>>\ <<set $allforone to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $hostile >100>>\ <<set $hostile to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $hostile <0>>\ <<set $hostile to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $smug >100>>\ <<set $smug to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $smug <0>>\ <<set $smug to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $care >100>>\ <<set $care to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $care <0>>\ <<set $care to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $isaak >100>>\ <<set $isaak to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $isaak <0>>\ <<set $isaak to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $averill >100>>\ <<set $averill to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $averill <0>>\ <<set $averill to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $tsintah >100>>\ <<set $tsintah to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $tsintah <0>>\ <<set $tsintah to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $thorne >100>>\ <<set $thorne to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $thorne <0>>\ <<set $thorne to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $numira >100>>\ <<set $numira to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $numira <0>>\ <<set $numira to 0>> <</if>>\ <<if $marabi >100>>\ <<set $marabi to 100>> <</if>>\ <<if $marabi <0>>\ <<set $marabi to 0>> <</if>>\
/* <<checkboxPlus>> widget This widget allows you to display a custom checkbox which sets a SugarCube variable, displays a (clickable) label, and satisfies accessibility guidelines for users with impairments (usable via the keyboard with TAB, SHIFT+TAB, and SPACE keys). The checkboxes are also larger, to make them easier to see and to click on for mobile devices. Usage: <<checkboxPlus "variableName" "text" ["className"]>> The value of the checkbox would then be tied to a variable, which is passed to the widget as a string. All story variables passed to the widget will be set to either a Boolean true or false. If the variable had a "truthy" value, then the checkbox will be checked. The "className" is an optional parameter, which adds that CSS class to the text. Example: <<checkboxPlus "$EnabledOp" "Enable Option" "blueText">> */ <<widget "checkboxPlus">> /* Make sure the variable passed in is a boolean. */ <<set State.setVar($args[0], !!State.getVar($args[0]))>> <<if ndef _checkboxIDno>> /* Start checkbox IDs at 1. */ <<set _checkboxIDno = 1>> <<else>> /* Next checkbox ID. */ <<set _checkboxIDno++>> <</if>> <<set _checkboxData = "'" + $args[0] + "'">> <<if def $args[2]>> <<set _cbStyle = " " + $args[2]>> <<else>> <<set _cbStyle = "">> <</if>> /* Display checkbox. */ <span class="chkbox" tabindex="0" onkeypress="if ((event.key == ' ') || (event.key == 'Spacebar')) { $(this).find('input[type=\'checkbox\']').trigger('click'); return false; }"> <<print '<input type="checkbox" id="checkbox_' + _checkboxIDno + '" tabindex="-1" class="cbhidden" onchange="SugarCube.State.setVar(' + _checkboxData + ', this.checked)" data-var="' + $args[0] + '"' + (State.getVar($args[0]) ? ' checked' : '') + '>'>> <label @for="'checkbox_' + _checkboxIDno" @class="'chklabel' + _cbStyle"> $args[1] </label> </span> <</widget>> /* <<checkboxPlus>> Widget - End */