A Firsthand Murder Ballad

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<span class='fadeIn'>The war’s victory was not a joyous affair. There was no celebration when the encroaching forces were routed from the land. No drinking. No parties. No cheering or tearful greetings from spouses who had not seen one another in nearly a decade. The silence was unmistakable. Loud. Overwhelming. There was no joy to be found in it. The removal of enemy soldiers from Herritus was instead met by one of the bleakest seasons to have ever settled over the country’s south. Crops and livestock died of the cold, infants were unable to be roused from their frigid sleep, and chromatia returned from its grave with wretched determination. The streets are deserted- not a soul travels the worn roads. The homeless freeze to death and community shelters across the nation are wrung dry. Not even a noble such as yourself is safe from the cold’s grip. It seeps in through the cracked windows, through the gaps under the doors. Your fire cannot douse it. No matter how many lanterns you light, the shudders will not be dispelled. You don a dozen layers; it finds a way through each. When you are diagnosed with the grey ruin and made to realise you may have only a few months left to live, you must take it upon yourself to remove any remaining loose ends- before the sickness takes you. And yet...something is wrong in the town of Nērisk. Something impossible is happening. And someway, [[somehow...|2]]</span>

A FIRSTHAND MURDER BALLAD

Azrael R.K.

Made in SugarCube 2.34.1.

<<if $ccdone is false>>You...who are you? //What// are you? //What did you do?//<</if>><<if $ccdone is true>>! $mc de Vhereste ?mcthey / ?mcthem / ?mctheir / ?mctheirs / ?mcthemself You are a $height $mc_gender, with $skin skin. As of late, it has lost its luster, gathered an unhealthy pallor. <<if $hair_length is "bald">><<else>>Your $hair_length $hair_tex hair has suffered, as well, becoming unruly and the $hair_color being invaded by a silver that tells of your aging (you honestly thought, though, that you'd go grey earlier; your mother had a full head of silver by your age). <</if>> Your <<if $heterochromia is true>>heterochromatic eyes (your left $eyes and your right $reye)<<else>>$eyes eyes<</if>> have become sunken and exhausted- you can't remember the last time you had a full night's rest.<<if $tattoos is true and $flor_tat is true and $runes is true>> Your skin //is// tattooed. On your inner left wrist, you have a larkspur to commemorate the loss of someone close to you. All across your body are silver runes and lines, sometimes so faint they're unnoticeable and sometimes gleaming brightly. <</if>><<if $tattoos is true and $flor_tat is false and $runes is true>> Your skin //is// tattooed. All across your body are silver runes and lines, sometimes so faint they're unnoticeable and sometimes gleaming brightly. <</if>> <<if $tattoos is true and $flor_tat is true and $runes is false>> Your skin //is// tattooed. On your inner left wrist, you have a larkspur to commemorate the loss of someone close to you. <</if>><<if $tattoos is true and $flor_tat is false and $runes is false>> Your skin //is// tattooed. <</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is true and $back_scars is true and $lightning_scars is true>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your palms bear scars unmistakable, warping your skin in such a way that merely looking down at them reminds you of the pain. Your back is crossed by several large, deep gashes; cuts, intentionally made unclean. Across your entire body, scars shaped like lightning wrap around your limbs. You'll never forget the day you were given them.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is true and $back_scars is true and $lightning_scars is false>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your palms bear scars unmistakable, warping your skin in such a way that merely looking down at them reminds you of the pain. Your back is crossed by several large, deep gashes; cuts, intentionally made unclean.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is true and $back_scars is false and $lightning_scars is false>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your palms bear scars unmistakable, warping your skin in such a way that merely looking down at them reminds you of the pain.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is false and $back_scars is true and $lightning_scars is true>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your back is crossed by several large, deep gashes; cuts, intentionally made unclean. Across your entire body, scars shaped like lightning wrap around your limbs. You'll never forget the day you were given them.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is false and $back_scars is false and $lightning_scars is true>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Across your entire body, scars shaped like lightning wrap around your limbs. You'll never forget the day you were given them.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is false and $back_scars is true and $lightning_scars is false>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your back is crossed by several large, deep gashes; cuts, intentionally made unclean.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is true and $back_scars is false and $lightning_scars is true>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete. Your palms bear scars unmistakable, warping your skin in such a way that merely looking down at them reminds you of the pain. Across your entire body, scars shaped like lightning wrap around your limbs. You'll never forget the day you were given them.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $burnt_hands is false and $back_scars is false and $lightning_scars is false>>Though your face is lined by faint, hardly visible lines, the rest of your body bears marks not so discrete.<</if>><<if $scars is false>>The only scars on your body have long since healed over, delicate lines on your face that're nearly invisible now.<</if>> <<if $hasdressed is true>>You currently don a <<if $dress is true>>$top<<else>>$top and $bottoms<</if>> over your $body frame. <</if>> !Stats <div class="status-bar"> <b>Volatile</b> <<= '<div class="sb-fill" style="width: ' + $volatile + '%;"><i>($volatile%)</i></div>' >> <<= '<div class="sb-fill2" style="width: calc(100% - ' + $volatile + '%);"><i>(<<print 100 - $volatile>>%)</i></div>' >><b style="border-color:black;">Stable</b> </div> <div class="status-bar"> <b>Emotional</b> <<= '<div class="sb-fill" style="width: ' + $emotional + '%;"><i>($emotional%)</i></div>' >> <<= '<div class="sb-fill2" style="width: calc(100% - ' + $emotional + '%);"><i>(<<print 100 - $emotional>>%)</i></div>' >><b style="border-color:black;">Stoic</b> </div> <div class="status-bar"> <b>Deceptive</b> <<= '<div class="sb-fill" style="width: ' + $deceptive + '%;"><i>($deceptive%)</i></div>' >> <<= '<div class="sb-fill2" style="width: calc(100% - ' + $deceptive + '%);"><i>(<<print 100 - $deceptive>>%)</i></div>' >><b style="border-color:black;">Honest</b> </div> <div class="status-bar"> <b>Sarcastic</b> <<= '<div class="sb-fill" style="width: ' + $sarcastic + '%;"><i>($sarcastic%)</i></div>' >> <<= '<div class="sb-fill2" style="width: calc(100% - ' + $sarcastic + '%);"><i>(<<print 100 - $sarcastic>>%)</i></div>' >><b style="border-color:black;">Genuine</b> </div> <</if>>

<<link "Character" "Character">><</link>> <<link "Codex" "Codex">><</link>> <<link "Credits" "Credits">><</link>> <<link "Back">><<if tags().includes("game-info")>><<goto $return>><<else>><<run Engine.backward()>><</if>><</link>>

<<script>> var passages = document.getElementById("passages"); passages.scrollTop = 0; <</script>>  <<if tags().includes("title")>> <<elseif tags().includes("credits")>><h1>Credits</h1> <<elseif tags().includes("character")>> <h1>Character</h1> <<elseif tags().includes("codex")>> <h1>Codex</h1> <<else>><h1>$chapter</h1> <</if>>

/* audio*/ <<cacheaudio "rest_of_the_fallen" "rest_of_the_fallen.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "piano_sting" "piano_sting.mp3">> <<cacheaudio "unworthy" "unworthy.mp3">> /* end*/ /* Multipronouns Variables*/ <<set $prons to 0>> <<set $arr_they to []>> <<set $arr_them to []>> <<set $arr_their to []>> <<set $arr_theirs to []>> <<set $arr_themself to []>> <<set $arr_plural to []>> <<set $mc_they to "">> <<set $mc_them to "">> <<set $mc_their to "">> <<set $mc_theirs to "">> <<set $mc_themself to "">> <<set $mc_plural to false>> <<set $mc_is to "">> <<set $mc_was to "">> <<set $mc_s to "">> <<set $mc_theyre to "">> <<set $mc_has to "">> /* end*/ /* customization*/ <<set $flor_tat to false>> <<set $runes to false>> <<set $back_scars to false>> <<set $lightning_scars to false>> <<set $burnt_hands to false>> <<set $hasdressed to false>> /* end*/ /* story & traits*/ <<set $chapter to "Intro">> <<set $volatile to 50>> <<set $emotional to 50>> <<set $deceptive to 50>> <<set $sarcastic to 50>> /* end*/ /* codex*/ <<set $ccdone to false>> <<set $aviri to false>> <<set $micah to false>> <<set $niphiles to false>> <<set $allifair to false>> <<set $ueryphus to false>> <<set $liel to false>> <<set $florain to false>> <<set $cillian to false>> <<set $codex_devherestemanor to false>>

<span class='fadeIn'>...it all ties back in to your brother’s murder //twenty years prior.// <<link "Character Customization" "3">><</link>></span>

<ul> <li>Game template <a href="https://nyehilism.itch.io/sugarcube-template">Nyehilism</a></li> <li>Stat bars <a href="https://nyehilismwriting.tumblr.com/post/664644395515199488/twine-coding-masterlist-thought-id-throw">Nyehilism (here's their resource masterpost)</a></li> <li>Banner assets <a href="https://www.canva.com/">Canva</a></li> <li>Fonts <a href="https://fonts.google.com/">Google fonts</a></li> <li>Multipronouns macro <a href="https://mistyriousness.itch.io/multipronouns">Mistyrious</a></li> <li>Notify macro <a href="https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2">Chapel</a></li> <li>Music <a href="https://pixabay.com">Pixabay</a></li> </ul>

![[PEOPLE]] ![[SETTING]]

ORANGE: Game info - character page, codex, credits. Populate these with what you like. GREEN: UI & game set-up elements. These can be edited to suit your needs. RED: Code. Everything in these passages should be labelled; things might break if you mess with them.

You are running out of time...

<style> #ui-bar {display:none;} #passages {width:100vw;margin:0;background-image:var(--banner-top),var(--banner-bottom);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-size:50%;background-position:top center, bottom center;overflow:hidden;scrollbar-width:none;font-family:var(--header-font);transition:0s;padding:0;} ::-webkit-scrollbar {width:0px;} .passage {text-align:center;transition:0s;} #passages a:before {content: none;} #story {margin-left:0;} h1 {text-align:center;margin-top:25vh;} @media screen and (max-width: 800px) {#story {margin:0;}} </style> <h1>A Firsthand Murder Ballad</h1> <<if Save.autosave.ok() and Save.autosave.has()>><<link "Continue">><<script>>Save.autosave.load()<</script>><</link>> | <</if>><<link "Begin Anew..." "1">><</link>> | <<link "Load">><<run UI.saves()>><</link>> | <<link "Settings">><<run UI.settings()>><</link>>

What is your true first name, de Vhereste? <<textbox "$mc" "Marius">> [[>|4]]

Enter a set of pronouns you use. she/he/they: <<textbox "$mc_they" "they">> him/her/them: <<textbox "$mc_them" "them">> his/her/their: <<textbox "$mc_their" "their">> his/hers/theirs: <<textbox "$mc_theirs" "theirs">> himself/herself/themself: <<textbox "$mc_themself" "themself">> Plural? (is/are) Yes <<radiobutton "$mc_plural" true checked>> No <<radiobutton "$mc_plural" false>> [[>|5]]

<<gender $mc_they $mc_them $mc_their $mc_theirs $mc_themself $mc_plural>>Your current pronouns are ?mcthey, ?mcthem, ?mctheir, ?mctheirs, and ?mcthemself. Would you like to add another set? [[Yes.|4]] [[No.|6]]

You identify as a <<cycle "$mc_gender" autoselect>><<option "man">><<option "woman">><<option "nonbinary person" "nonbinary person">><<option "nonbinary man">><<option "nonbinary woman">><</cycle>>. [[>|7]]

<<if $mc_gender is "man">><<set $mc_man to "man">><</if>><<if $mc_gender is "woman">><<set $mc_man to "woman">><</if>><<if $mc_gender is "nonbinary person">><<set $mc_man to "person">><</if>><<if $mc_gender is "nonbinary man">><<set $mc_man to "man">><</if>><<if $mc_gender is "nonbinary woman">><<set $mc_man to "woman">><</if>>In matters of appearance, would you say... Hair length: <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "bald" checked>>Bald <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "short">>Short <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "chin-length">>Chin-length <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "shoulder-length">>Shoulder-length <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "long">>Long <<radiobutton "$hair_length" "very long">>Very Long Hair color: <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "black" checked>>Black <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "dark brown">>Dark brown <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "brown">>Brown <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "light brown">>Light brown <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "dark blonde">>Dark blonde <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "honey blonde">>Honey blonde <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "platinum blonde">>Platinum blonde <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "white">>White <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "ginger">>Ginger <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "red">>Red <<radiobutton "$hair_color" "auburn">>Auburn Hair texture: <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "silky" checked>>Silky <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "straight">>Straight <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "wispy">>Wispy <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "wavy">>Wavy <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "loosely curled">>Loose curls <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "tightly curled">>Tight curls <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "coily">>Coily <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "kinky">>Kinky <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "locked">>Locked <<radiobutton "$hair_tex" "braided">>Braided Skin color: <<radiobutton "$skin" "pale" checked>>Pale <<radiobutton "$skin" "fair">>Fair <<radiobutton "$skin" "beige">>Beige <<radiobutton "$skin" "olive">>Olive <<radiobutton "$skin" "tanned">>Tanned <<radiobutton "$skin" "light brown">>Light brown <<radiobutton "$skin" "brown">>Brown <<radiobutton "$skin" "bronze">>Bronze <<radiobutton "$skin" "terra-cotta">>Terra-cotta <<radiobutton "$skin" "umber">>Umber <<radiobutton "$skin" "black">>Black Eye color: <<radiobutton "$eyes" "black" checked>>Black <<radiobutton "$eyes" "brown">>Brown <<radiobutton "$eyes" "hazel">>Hazel <<radiobutton "$eyes" "green">>Green <<radiobutton "$eyes" "blue">>Blue <<radiobutton "$eyes" "grey">>Grey <<radiobutton "$eyes" "violet">>Violet <<checkbox "$heterochromia" false true autocheck>> Heterochromia (If set to yes, selected eye color will be used as the left eye. You will be brought to another page in order to select the color of the right eye.) Distinguishing traits: <<checkbox "$tattoos" false true autocheck>> Tattoos <<checkbox "$scars" false true autocheck>> Scars Height: <<radiobutton "$height" "very short" checked>>Very short (=<5'0) <<radiobutton "$height" "short">>Short (5'1 - 5'4) <<radiobutton "$height" "average">>Average (5'5 - 5'9) <<radiobutton "$height" "tall">>Tall (5'10 - 6'2) <<radiobutton "$height" "very tall">>Very tall (>=6'3) Body type: <<radiobutton "$body" "slim" checked>>Slim <<radiobutton "$body" "slender">>Slender <<radiobutton "$body" "lean">>Lean <<radiobutton "$body" "athletic">>Athletic <<radiobutton "$body" "muscular">>Muscular <<radiobutton "$body" "chubby">>Chubby <<radiobutton "$body" "curvy">>Curvy <<radiobutton "$body" "stocky">>Stocky <<radiobutton "$body" "fat">>Fat [[>|10]]

To briefly recap on your appearance: You are $height, and your body is $body. You have <<if $heterochromia is false>>$eyes eyes<</if>><<if $heterochromia is true>>heterochromatic $eyes and $reye eyes<</if>> and <<if $hair_length is not "bald">>$hair_length, $hair_tex $hair_color hair.<</if>><<if $hair_length is "bald">>your head is bald.<</if>> Your $skin skin is <<if $scars is true and $tattoos is false>>scarred.<</if>><<if $tattoos is true and $scars is false>>tattooed.<</if>><<if $scars is true and $tattoos is true>>scarred and tattooed.<</if>><<if $scars is false and $tattoos is false>>unmarred.<</if>> Is this right? <<link "Yes. (Complete character creation)" "FINALLY">><<set $chapter to "Prologue">><</link>> [[No.|7]]

<<if $heterochromia is true>>Right eye color: <<radiobutton "$reye" "black" checked>>Black <<radiobutton "$reye" "brown">>Brown <<radiobutton "$reye" "hazel">>Hazel <<radiobutton "$reye" "green">>Green <<radiobutton "$reye" "blue">>Blue <<radiobutton "$reye" "grey">>Grey <<radiobutton "$reye" "violet">>Violet <</if>><<if $tattoos is true>> Tattoos (Please note you do not have to select any of these tattoos for the game to recognize you as being tattooed; these options are just for special dialogue/flavor text): <<checkbox "$flor_tat" false true autocheck>> A tattoo of a larkspur on your inner left wrist to commemorate someone you lost. <<checkbox "$runes" false true autocheck>> A variety of runes and lines running across your whole body. They used to mean something to you. <</if>><<if $scars is true>> Scars (You can have scars and not select any of these options! These just add a bit of flavor text): <<checkbox "$burnt_hands" false true autocheck>> Burn scars on both your palms. Permanent reminders... <<checkbox "$back_scars" false true autocheck>> Several large scars running across your back. They bring up memories you don't like to think about. <<checkbox "$lightning_scars" false true autocheck>> Many thin scars spanning your entire body, shaped like arches of lightning. A harsh form of discipline. <</if>><<if $tattoos is false and $scars is false>>This is where extra features would appear if you had any selected. You do not, so carry on. <</if>> [[>|9]]

<<set $ccdone to true>><<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>Snow crunches [[underfoot|pro 1]].</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>You're running through the snow. Your breaths fog the still, biting cold in front of you, exhaled through your mouth in rapid heaves of air. In your haste, your oversized boot lands on a rock and your ankle twists. You're saved from a nasty fall by Aviri's hand, still clasped tightly in yours, pulling you along. You stumble, once, twice, feet now dragging in the snow. Aviri is yelling, [[you think.|pro 2]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>Blood. So, very much of it. Seeping into the powdery white manifestation of winter itself, seeping into your gloves, into your knees. Behind your eyes, burning itself into your brain, fizzling and popping. His head. A stone. It all had happened so fast, you barely had time to realize what even //had// happened. By the time you did, it was [[far too late.|pro 3]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>A campfire, homely and inviting. Your trembling fingers outstretched before it. Aviri's eyes, cold and empty, staring back at you from the shadows on the other side of the flames. You'd squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to see, wanting to believe that you were somewhere far away from there. A warm hand... [[clasping over your shoulder with a sure grip.|pro 4 avj friendship]] [[hovering over your own for a moment, then being pulled back to someone's side. ♡|pro 4 avj romance]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>"$mc..." you draw in a breath when they say your name, and their hand slides from your arm. "This isn't...I mean, are you sure about this?" Your eyes open to look into theirs, <<if $heterochromia is false>>$eyes meeting black<</if>><<if $heterochromia is true>>$eyes and $reye meeting black<</if>>, and they stare back. If you weren't so close, you might not notice the pinch between their brows, or the slight twist of their mouth. But you are, and you do. To assure yourself as much as them, you say, [["Yeah. I mean, of course I am." The words come out thick and you swallow down your doubt.|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "hesitant"]] [["Of course. We've come this far, haven't we?" Ever a rock in the middle of the ocean, your groundedness.|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "assured"]] [["Of course!" Your voice comes out with an airy laugh. "Why wouldn't I be?"|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "giddy"]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'><<set $avj_pastcrush to true>>A few seconds of tense silence. You swallow, tongue feeling like lead in your mouth. "We're doing this, then?" They ask, voice sounding as rough as you imagine yours would be. "Really doing this?" You don't open your eyes. Don't look at them. Can't. Maybe it's shame that twists your stomach, makes your hands shake. Maybe fear. Maybe trepidation. [["Yeah," you manage, voice quivering. "Yeah, we're doing this."|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "hesitant"]] [["Of course." Your voice is steady. "We've come this far. Done this much. I'm not giving in now."|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "assured"]] [[You let yourself laugh the slightest bit. "Of course! Why wouldn't we?"|pro 5][$past_murder_outlook to "giddy"]]</span>

![[Vettikar]] ![[von Jhersten]] ![[Rittaker]] ![[Amorson]] ![[vel Yurius]] ![[el Lirisis]] ![[Ivares]] ![[Kirrest]] ![[Ketimnar]]

<<if $codex_devherestemanor is false>>No entries available.<<else>>![[de Vhereste Manor]]<</if>>

<<if $aviri is false>>The memory's too painful. You can't think of this person right now.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $florain is false>>The memory's too painful. You can't think of this person right now.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $cillian is false>>There isn't much to remember about this person.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $liel is false>>The memory's too painful. You can't think of this person right now.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $acrocantus is false>>There isn't much to remember about this person.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $ueryphus is false>>There isn't much to remember about this person.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $niphiles is false>>There isn't much to remember about this person.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<if $micah is false>>You have too much on your mind. Worry for em would only make it worse.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>You hear them give a shuddering sigh. "Of course..." You rub a hand over your face and when you open your eyes they look different- twisted, haunted, gaunt. Their pallid skin, dark eyes, mussed hair, a bitter expression overtaking them as they stare at you. "And damn the consequences, right?" Their voice sounds different than you remember. You remember, //[[you remember|pro 6]]//-</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>//What do you remember?// Running through fields in summer, the warm sun on your back. Laughing, carefree, as [[they yelled behind you.|pro 7]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>They always were slower than [[you.|pro 8]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>You always knew they wouldn't be able to [[outrun them.|pro 9]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><span class='fadeIn'>Is that why, then? Is that why you did [[what you did?|pro 10]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop play>><<audio "unworthy" loop stop>><span class='fadeIn'>[[Was it worth it, de Vhereste?|pro 11 wakeup]]</span>

<<audio "rest_of_the_fallen" loop stop>><<audio "piano_sting" play>><<audio "unworthy" loop play>>A gasping breath of air turned into heaving coughs, your legs kicking frantically at the blankets- constricting, too-tight, wrapped around your thighs and hips, keeping you pinned to the sweat-soaked sheets. When you finally managed to to peel the covers from your fevered body, you sat at the edge of your bed, pounding heart pressed so hard against your ribs it felt like they'd shatter. <<link "You folded over onto yourself, unable to stop the sobs that welled up in the back of your throat. You let the tears wring you dry of the pain, uncaring of the headache it would bring." "pro 12 sob">><<set $emotional to Math.clamp($emotional += 2, 0, 100)>><</link>> <<link "Your fingers curled into the sheets, a tight grip keeping you grounded in reality. With steady breaths and eyes squeezed shut, though your hands still shook, the panic began to recede." "pro 12 steady">><<set $volatile to Math.clamp($volatile -= 2, 0, 100)>><</link>> <<link "You were up on unsteady legs and before you could think it through, you balled up your fist and slammed it into the wall, the pain erupting through your hand not enough to quell the relief it gave you." "pro 12 anger">><<set $volatile to Math.clamp($volatile += 2, 0, 100)>><<set $emotional to Math.clamp($emotional += 2, 0, 100)>><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>You cried until your body was empty of any water and even then dry sobs rested in your throat, making it burn with tension from the ugly sounds being held back.<<if $runes is true>> The runes and lines ingrained into your skin flickered with hollow silver light and your reddened eyes dropped to stare at them, biting your lip so hard that the taste of iron bloomed on your tongue. When the light inevitably snuffed out, your entire body shuddered with the effort, your back slumping and a bitter feeling rising in your throat. Of course it did. What more did you expect?<</if>><<if $runes is false>> The thick, heavy feeling traveled down from your throat, creeping under your collarbone, behind your aching ribs, spidering out through your arms and your thighs, into your fingers with a feeling so intense it seemed as though you shouldn't be able to hold up your hands, and yet you could. As you lifted your palm, spread out each of your digits, nearly entranced by the feeling you'd not had in years, the weight escaped, all the heaviness gone as though exhaled in a mere moment, leaving you with only bitter emptiness to replace it.<</if>> Your fingers twitched where you held them out in front of your face, and your arms dropped. With much less energy than you'd awoken with, those hands (//useless compared to how they used to be//) grasped the edge of your mattress and propelled you to stand on unsteady legs. The carpet, once soft and plush, was matted under your feet, having gone without a proper cleaning for an embarassing number of days. The portraits lining the wall were in similar states of disrepair. Though none were allowed to sit crooked, they were unclean, dusty and with grime building around the edges. One in particular had been collecting an especially unpleasant look as of late; of a lake, frozen over with icy branches visible in the foreground. Small birds flitted about the trees, and a child sat by the lake with their back turned. Once upon a time, this painting had been Florain's favorite, and the thought almost made you smile. Florain, who had lead you through many a breakdown with a soft voice and equally so hands. Florain, perhaps your closest friend. And then it hit you with all the same force it had the day it happened. <<link "Florain, who never got to see his seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "he">><<set $flor_him to "him">><<set $flor_his to "his">><<set $flor_hiss to "his">><<set $flor_himself to "himself">><<set $flor_man to "man">><<set $flor_boy to "boy">><</link>> <<link "Florain, who never got to see her seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "she">><<set $flor_him to "her">><<set $flor_his to "her">><<set $flor_hiss to "hers">><<set $flor_himself to "herself">><<set $flor_man to "woman">><<set $flor_boy to "girl">><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>Slowly, the burning in your nose, behind your eyes, in your throat- it crept away, replaced by a hollowness you'd felt many times before. The overpowering presence was replaced by a stark lack, a void, consuming with endless hunger from the very center of your being. With its existence, nothing else was allowed to,<<if $runes is true>> something you were painfully reminded of every time your eyes laid upon the silver runes littering your body, dark and unpowered<</if>><<if $runes is false>> something you were reminded of when all your attempts to summon up what used to lay dormant behind bone and sinew were met with absolute nothingness<</if>>. Painfully, your fingers unclenched, releasing the thin, slightly rough sheet, allowing those sore muscles to rest. How you wished to do the same. Your eyes slipped open, and you stared into the wall across from your bed with such exhaustion that without even looking into a mirror you were sure the violet beneath your eyes must have turned entirely black. The wood, a warm mahogany that had lost much of its inviting tone to turn a sickly, almost grey, color, was marked by dents and splinters from the embarrasing amounts of outbursts you'd had as a teen. Though adorned by several paintings, (there had even been ones of old members of the de Vherest line, once, but you'd long since taken those down, because, truly, who wants to be stared at by a portrait of their great-grandmother?) the room, and that particular wall, looked no more lively for it. The sad state of the decor only served, in fact, to darken the mood of your quarters, with their grime and dirt and dull coloring, but you refused to remove any of it. Call it nostalgia or stubborn stupidity, those paintings were where they would stay. One in particular you'd decided decades ago would always have a place on that drab wall; Florain's favorite, a scene portrait of a frozen lake. You'd never much understood the appeal, but it always reminded Florain of the pond the fishers used to take the two of you to, so it always stayed. Florain, who was the first to teach you how to work through your worse moments. Florain, who even now the thought of nearly brought a smile to your face. And then it hit you with all the same force it had the day it happened. <<link "Florain, who never got to see his seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "he">><<set $flor_him to "him">><<set $flor_his to "his">><<set $flor_hiss to "his">><<set $flor_himself to "himself">><<set $flor_man to "man">><<set $flor_boy to "boy">><</link>> <<link "Florain, who never got to see her seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "she">><<set $flor_him to "her">><<set $flor_his to "her">><<set $flor_hiss to "hers">><<set $flor_himself to "herself">><<set $flor_man to "woman">><<set $flor_boy to "girl">><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>Heavy breaths, thick with bit-back whimpers at the pain, were the only sounds to escape your throat, though frustration boiled behind your sternum, pleading with you to let it out.<<if $runes is true>> The runes littering your body pulsed weakly, a flickering light to prove your rage, but it lasted no longer than a moment, what used to be your greatest strength sputtering out back into flat white lines. Your bitterness only seemed to grow as you stared down at your forearms with gritted teeth, the powerless tattoos staring back at you.<</if>><<if $runes is false>> That agitation in your chest rose up to a fever pitch, heat spidering out into your arms, your legs, a pulse of fire and hate that reached your skin and made it prickle with irritation. But then- gone, all of it, sputtered out into cooling ash, a distinct lack of warmth from your very center. A hollowness settled over you, an empty sort of anger as your eyes squeezed shut.<</if>> Your fingers twitched, the hand you'd slammed into the wall aching still, and your head tipped back with a sharp breath exhaled through your nose. You stared at the ceiling for a few still moments; the dusty, far-too-long-uncleaned ceiling. A sneer twisted your lips while your gaze traveled the length of it. A light cream in color, to match the mahogany walls. Many childhood nights were spent laying on the very same bed you'd shot up from moments before, tracing shapes out of the patterns above you. Now you hated to look at it. It made you feel sick. Nostalgia and bittersweet memories, longing for a past you could never again grasp, for people no longer there- you could look at it no longer. Instead, you opted to return your critical eye to the wall that you'd just turned your anger upon, equally as dusty and unclean as the ceiling. This wall, damn the thing, bore many marks of similar outbursts. Small dents and cracks, a patched hole in the furthest corner. Florain was around when that one happened, you were reminded. Florain, who cleaned your bleeding knuckles with a gentle touch and soft hands. For a moment you nearly smiled, nearly allowed yourself to remember your old friend. And then it hit you with all the same force it had the day it happened. <<link "Florain, who never got to see his seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "he">><<set $flor_him to "him">><<set $flor_his to "his">><<set $flor_hiss to "his">><<set $flor_himself to "himself">><<set $flor_man to "man">><<set $flor_boy to "boy">><</link>> <<link "Florain, who never got to see her seventeenth spring." "pro 13">><<set $flor_he to "she">><<set $flor_him to "her">><<set $flor_his to "her">><<set $flor_hiss to "hers">><<set $flor_himself to "herself">><<set $flor_man to "woman">><<set $flor_boy to "girl">><</link>>

<<if $allifair is false>>There isn't much to remember about this person.<</if>> [[Return.|PEOPLE]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>><<notify 5s>>Codex entry unlocked!: de Vhereste Manor (Setting)<</notify>><<set $codex_devherestemanor to true>>Such unpleasant memories must not be allowed to fester. As you began to go about your morning routine, your hopes of escaping the melancholy were quickly damned to die alongside any hopes you might've had of a good day. <<if $hair_length is not "bald">>While setting your hair to rights, memories of $flor_him doing the same for you made bile rise in your throat. <</if>><<if $hair_length is "bald">>While washing your face, memories of chatting away with $flor_him while you did the very same made bile rise in your throat. <</if>> It was no better even upon slipping out of your bedroom, clothes in hand and a soft robe (comfortable, though drained of color) your only garb. The halls of this accursed manor were ingrained with memories of a better time, in every splinter-offering plank the reminder of a time when it was smooth and glossy, religiously kept. In each silent corridor the echo of children laughing and whispers being shared. You used to love this house. ''[[You used to love this home.|pro 14]]''

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>It was with a sigh of quiet relief that you were able to slip into the washroom, allowing yourself a moment's reprieve from your consuming thoughts. This cold, devoid, and mildly claustrophobic space was perhaps the only room in the manor without some form of bitterness attached. Once an unused storage closet, you'd had it converted not long after you inherited the place. There was a washroom downstairs, but apparently no-one of your bloodline before you had ever thought it might be helpful to have one on the same level as the bedrooms. You pulled at the sash holding the robe together, allowing it to fall to a heap around your ankles once you pulled your arms from the large sleeves. Just from looking down at yourself, you were nearly thankful that the mirror over the sink had been shattered into a quite headache-inducing series of reflections years ago- not long after it had been installed, actually. That had been a...//difficult// time for you. You didn't think you could stand to look into it and see what you had become; hardly a husk, eyes deep-set and shadowed, skin pallid and lacking the luster it once had held,<<if $hair_length is "bald">><<else>> grey beginning to seep into the roots of your hair<</if>> and creases beginning to form in your face. You nearly shook your head at yourself. Really? Since when did you become so brooding? Not that there was much else to do while you waited on the tub to fill up, but truly, it was the principle of the matter. (//You've been like this for a long time now, you know. You aren't fifteen anymore. You never will be again.//) By the time it finally filled, you'd begun to grow concerned the tub's pipes had froze in the, give or take, week's time you hadn't been using them. Luckily, though, the water, while still at a snail's pace, did eventually reach a point in depth that you were satisfied enough with to even begin considering going through the now-regular torture that was an ice-cold bath. With your chosen clothing sitting on the sink, still folded, you braced yourself for the frigidity and sunk into the water. <<if $height is "very short">>At its depth, it nearly swallowed you, reaching up to your neck and inducing a sharp breath in.<</if>><<if $height is "short">>At its depth, it reached up to about your shoulders with the way you were sitting; not quite swallowing you, but still an awfully unpleasant experience.<</if>><<if $height is "average">>At its depth, it reached up to around your chest, leaving the entire lower three-fourths or so of your body freezing.<</if>><<if $height is "tall" or $height is "very tall">>While it didn't submerge too much of you beneath it at its depth, it still left you with an unpleasant shiver.<</if>> Wishing for the ordeal to be done and over with as soon as possible, you began the process of cleaning; and yet, no matter how hard you scrubbed, it seemed the dirt insisted upon clinging to you. It hadn't been that long- only around six days. That wasn't nearly enough time for this kind of grime to build up. Was it? [[By the time you left the tub's water to drain, your skin was rubbed raw.|pro 15]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>Standing in front of the sink, you realized spent more than enough time -- much more than you intended to - merely getting up this morning - something that had been becoming more and more common, and yet the shame seemed to always grow, never lessen. If your mother was around, the allotted time to get ready would have been more than used up- you'd already be out and about in whatever state of sad disrepair she'd found you in. But she wasn't, and you still had to go into town to visit Rittaker, and soon the morning fog would be dispelled. The mere thought of it seemed to make your head thrum. First order of business; clothes. They sat right in front of you still, the warmth they offered sure to be a welcome change from the cold that gripped you, left your jaw shuddering and your hands quaking. Yet, though you wanted desperately the escape they offered, merely the act of lifting your hands to the countertop was uncharacteristically difficult, a sluggish effect you attributed to the freezing air. But maybe it was just exhaustion. //You hadn't had a break in so long.// <<link "A simple off-white laced tunic with wide bishop sleeves paired with convenient light brown trousers." "pro 16">><<set $hasdressed to true>><<set $top to "cream bishop-sleeved tunic">><<set $bottoms to "brown trousers">><<set $dress to false>><</link>> <<link "A simple off-white laced tunic with wide bishop sleeves paired with a manueverable light brown skirt." "pro 16">><<set $hasdressed to true>><<set $top to "cream bishop-sleeved tunic">><<set $bottoms to "brown skirt">><<set $dress to false>><</link>> <<link "An off-white dress with bishop sleeves and darker-colored lacing around the hem of the skirt." "pro 16">><<set $hasdressed to true>><<set $top to "cream bishop-sleeved dress">><<set $bottoms to "cream bishop-sleeved dress">><<set $dress to true>><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>Before dressing, you considered your fragmentary reflection for a moment. Though you couldn't see your own face, the mirror reflected several distorted, mostly triangular segments of your body. In particular, because of the angle and height of the mirror, your chest seemed to take up most of the space. <<link "You don't tend to look at it often, though. It's usually hidden by a binder- the same one in the heap of clothes now in your hands." "pro 17">><<set $has_breasts to true>><<set $binds to true>><<set $titty_riddy to false>><<set $titty_gimme to false>><</link>> <<link "You can see the scars that sit below your pectorals, reminders of something that actually gives you joy in your dull life." "pro 17">><<set $has_breasts to false>><<set $binds to false>><<set $titty_riddy to true>><<set $titty_gimme to false>><</link>> <<link "The breasts that are now there, alongside the fact you have to wear bras now, is something that, even now, manages to give you the slightest spark of joy." "pro 17">><<$has_breasts to true>><<$binds to false>><<$titty_riddy to false>><<$titty_gimme to true>><</link>> <<link "...Although it's nothing to write home about. It's a chest, certainly." "pro 17">><<set $has_breasts to false>><<set $binds to false>><<set $titty_riddy to false>><<set $titty_gimme to false>><</link>> <<link "...Although there's nothing to write home about. They're breasts, certainly." "pro 17">><<set $has_breasts to true>><<set $binds to false>><<set $titty_riddy to false>><<set $titty_gimme to false>><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>It felt for a moment as if you were in a trace, hardly able to move, think, breathe- and then the house gave a groan, settling onto its foundation. Broken from your daze, you gave the door a quick glance before swiftly redressing. While the garb you'd chosen was not...the //prettiest//, it would serve its job well enough. Besides, opulence wasn't exactly a good look when half of the country was starving, and you figured there were better things you could save your rare nice outfit for, when the time came 'round for it. //If the time would ever come around for it.// Passing through the doorway from the damp, chilly bathroom out into the empty hall, you had to pause, gripping the doorframe with white knuckles. It already felt like half your life had slipped away in just one small portion of the morning, and everything was building up in a horribly nauseating manner. Something told you it would only get worse from here. You bit back the bile that threatened your throat and began the quite impossible-feeling trek to the stairwell. The worst thing about this walk, you'd realized years ago, was not the length of it. It was the quiet. No distractions. No white noise. No new fascinating thing you'd never noticed before to fixate on. Just you, that old house, and your thoughts. For some people it might've been a blessing. A couple of minutes walk every morning to sort out your thoughts? You'd met a few people in your time who'd have considered it paradise. For you, it was //dangerous//. Wandering thoughts are never good when the mind is trapped in a labyrinth. Currently, it seemed your brain had decided to occupy itself with thoughts of a certain person you'd been trying quite hard //not// to think about. [[Florain. Your now-dead ex-lover. ♡|pro 18 lovers]] [[Florain. Your now-dead ex-best-friend.|pro 18 friends]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>><<set $flor_past to "lovers">>Despite your best efforts, memories flood these halls and you cannot patch the leak. You remember the night your mother had caught $flor_him holding your hand for the first time, and the disapproval in her eyes and the tight line of her lips. That had been in these very halls- you remember the quiver in $flor_his lip as $flor_he'd smiled at you, all watery and unsure. You remember sitting side by side against the wall you were passing now, a canvas in $flor_his lap and <<cycle "$childhood_hobby" autoselect>><<option "one in yours to match" "drawing">><<option "a lute in yours" "lute">><<option "a story journal in yours" "writing">><</cycle>>. Watching $flor_him as $flor_he laughed at some stupid joke that really hadn't been all that funny, seeing $flor_him sneak a glance at you out of the corner of $flor_his eye. Florain had been //enamored// with you. The thought of it still made your stomach twist. Your first love, $flor_his body burnt and the ashes packed into the earth before a marvel of stonework, a headstone that your mother (so disapproving, detached) had personally paid for. <<link "Your last love, you hoped." "pro 19">><<set $romance_outlook to "bitter">><</link>> <<link "Your last love, too, it seemed." "pro 19">><<set $romance_outlook to "indifferent">><</link>> <<link "And perhaps your last love, try as you might." "pro 19">><<set $romance_outlook to "hopeful">><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>><<set $romance_outlook to "unset">>Despite your best efforts, memories flood these halls and you cannot patch the leak. You remember the nights $flor_he'd stay over. You'd take walks through these halls when you couldn't sleep, as was common for you at the time. As is //still// common for you. The jokes $flor_he'd tell, all objectively...not great, but they'd gotten you to smile and that had been all that mattered to $flor_him. You remember sitting side by side against the wall you were passing now, a canvas in $flor_his lap and <<cycle "$childhood_hobby" autoselect>><<option "one in yours to match" "drawing">><<option "a lute in yours" "lute">><<option "a story journal in yours" "writing">><</cycle>>. Watching $flor_him with mild judgement in your eye as $flor_he made a dumb remark, only for your pensive expression to melt into surprised laughter at whatever $flor_he had come up with that time. Florain had been -- in the friendliest way possible - utterly enamored with you. The thought of it still made your stomach twist. <<link "It had been of no help that you'd never gotten the chance to admit to your best friend how you really felt. ♡" "pro 19">><<set $flor_past to "friends crush">><</link>> <<link "You were best friends. There was no replacing that. You would never be able to be the person you were when Flor was around again." "pro 19">><<set $flor_past to "friends">><</link>>

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>See? //Dangerous.// The thoughts plaguing you, making you feel iller by the second, were forced to the back of your mind- both by your own hand and the change of scenery grabbing your attention. There was a strange amount of...light. The staircase stood before you, bronze bannisters gleaming dimly as a result of the sparse rays of sunlight filtering through the window on the wall across from you. As you drew closer, it grew apparent that the greyness of the manor might've had something to do with the dust coating everything- it floated through the air, illuminated by the sun (the small amount of which you had you were lucky to possess, given how the season had gone thus far, and which you realized was responsible for the startling amount of color visible, creams and oranges and reds with the occasional pop of violet- it felt as if you hadn't seen such vibrant shades in years) and when you touched the railing without thinking it took only a moment for your hand to draw back as your face twisted up in discomfort. Ugh. When was the last time you dusted this place? You pushed aside the malaise and mildly unsettled confusion that rose in your stomach as best you could for the moment and began the descent; luckily, it was a much shorter walk than what you'd just endured, and so while your knees still protested by the end of it, the singular flight of stairs had not, in fact, been enough to wind you. You, one; aging, zero. Though, if you had to carry on with this endless walk, it certainly //would// be enough to wind you. Perhaps even more than that. Who knows? You might collapse and die. If only... The one kindness the architects of this manor had done your bloodline, though, had been connecting the foyer directly to the stairs. [[Sweet mercy...|pro 20]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>The foyer was, comparably to the rest of the house, in remarkably good condition. Well, presentable condition, that is. The paintings lining the walls here were clean, at least, and in the rich sangria curtains and inviting sofas some splendor still lied. Evidence of your noble heritage, which one likely would never guess the existence of were it not for this very room. It was the only room in the house that made you feel underdressed in your current state, but then that could also be the pervasive feeling of unease the foyer instilled into you. There was a reason, after all, that you avoided it so harshly, much preferring to use the back entrance or one of the hidden routes whenever your energy level permitted. It was only ever truly //used// to entertain guests. Not that you got many of those these days. [[Your most recent couple, in fact, seemed to be making themselves scarce.|pro 21]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>Perhaps, though, you pondered while pulling your cloak off the hook, it was possible that they were still asleep. After all, the one //was// of high status, and they did seem quite tired. Acro....something, his name was. An intriguing individual- although his guard - or perhaps they were his friend...or partner, it really was hard to tell with those two - didn't exactly allow you to extract much information from him. You shuffled a bit closer to the door to grab your boots and begin pulling those on, although in truth, your thoughts were anywhere but there. The duo was right fascinating; the rich one had seemed incredibly taken with your manor, even calling it 'perfect' for whatever purpose he had in mind. Perhaps you should have //asked// about said purpose. If he intends to blow up your house, you'd at least like to know so that you could plan your day around it. Likely, though, he would not. Blow up the manor, that is. You gave a sigh as your eyes settled on the door, thoughts returning to the present day, though not without mild petulance. So mocking in its appearance, warm-toned and intricately carved. It could nearly make you forget about the deadly frost that lied just beyond it. With a huff through your nose, you hesitated only a moment before throwing the door wide open- and then instantly slamming it shut the moment you stepped outside. You were not //that// irresponsible so as to allow the chill permission to invade your already cool dwelling. It took you a moment to adjust yourself to the frigidity in the air, the wintry temperature not seeming to affect you at all for the first few seconds and then hitting you all at once. While it was cold inside, certainly, this was to a quite dramatic extent, and you rubbed one hand over your face (your nose was already getting chilly, you noted with disdain) while keeping your cloak closed around your chest with the other. A weak shudder made your shoulders quake and you decided with finality that you should really make it to Rittaker's clinic as soon as possible. You'd hardly taken a step when the distinct sound of paper crunching met your ears, and with a twitch of the eye you looked down to see two envelopes resting below your boot. [[If you ever catch that damn courier, you'll have their head mounted above your fireplace.|pro 22]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>>//What kind of moron leaves exposed paper envelopes just sitting out on a porch in snowy weather? How do they manage to keep their job when they pull stunts like this?// Both very valid questions, both very //unimportant// questions that faded to a light simmer of annoyance as you leaned down to pick up the letters with numbing fingers. One, ornate but simple, clearly from a noble but without the embellishment expected of a formal invite or overly polite notice- and lacking any sign of its sender, save for the violet seal holding it closed. The other, plain, without much to speak of in way of looks. It was clearly signed, though, with the name //Cillian Rittaker// printed on the front in neat handwriting, with slight smudges as though the doctor had been in a hurry and not waited for the ink to dry. Well, the latter of the two would certainly make your day smoother. Why drop by zir office if ze's started sending mail? Awfully convenient. And then there sat the other envelope, staring at you tauntingly, all perfectly straight edges with the faintest hint of a lace design visible around the very edges of its flat face. How mysterious. [[You open the unlabled letter first. Who knows? It could be interesting.|pro 23 aviri]] [[You open the letter from Rittaker first. It could be important.|pro 23 cillian]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>><<set $prologue_letter to "aviri">>Sitting the letter from Rittaker on the small table by your door (and the courier hadn't even bothered to put them //there//!) for the time being, you leaned back against the wall (a sorry attempt to retain what little warmth still housed within you) and inspected the other mail for a moment. The seal bore a sigil familiar to you- a raven pecking meat off of a wolf's skull. It had been hard to make out what the symbols actually //were// the first time Aviri showed it to you, but they'd been quick to explain the art, the meaning behind it, its history with [[the von Jherstens and the de Vherestes-|pro 24 aviri]]

<<audio "unworthy" loop play>><<set $prologue_letter to "cillian">>Sitting the unlabeled letter on the small table by your door (really, the courier couldn't even have bothered to put it //there//?), you got to work opening the envelope from Rittaker with your back leaned against the slightly-warmer-than-the-rest-of-your-environment wall. When you had the letter in your hands, eyes skimming the handwriting, dread began to pool in your stomach, as if your gut knew something you didn't. Words seemed to go right through your skull without really registering- //'symptoms,' 'neurological,' [['chromatia,' 'I am sorry.'|pro 24 cillian]]

<<audio "unworthy" fadeout>>//[[Oh shit.|pro 25 aviri]]//

//Aviri von Jhersten. The only remaining member of the von Jhersten bloodline.// The only person who this letter [[could possibly be from.|pro 26 aviri]]

''[[The person you wanted never to hear from again.|1 1]]''

This is the end of the prologue, and currently, the end of the story. Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you enjoyed! If you have any questions or bug reports (or typo reports, God knows), feel free to submit them either on the Itch.io page, or to send them to my <a href="https://a-firsthand-murder-ballad.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a>, where I also post updates regarding the game. - Azrael

<<audio "unworthy" fadeout>>//[[Wait.|pro 25 cillian]]//

With eyes now wide, you reread the last few sentences. //"Ever since your first visit, I had my suspicions, but without proper evidence, I kept them to myself. But now, with your most recent symptoms of neurological deterioration, it is becoming clear, your affliction, and we cannot risk avoiding the topic now. You have contracted chromatia, and it has begun to attack your brain. I am sorry. Following this diagnosis, I will not charge you for any follow-up visits or treatment admistered from my clinic. I can offer you only this, the barest courtesy in the face of an illness we know to cause mortality within three months of final-stage entrance."// Your brain supplied with you the words Rittaker refused to write. //[[You will be dead within the next three months.|pro 26 cillian]]//

//[[I am sorry.|1 1]]//

A large manor resting around half a mile away from the outskirts of Nērisk, historically owned by the de Vhereste noble family line. It was initially constructed as a commission for a Mable de Vhereste, the first de Vhereste to be granted noble status. Technically, this house serves as the seat of a dukedom, as Nērisk is officially owned by the family and the current heir of the house, $mc de Vhereste, is officially a duke. However, the bloodline has faded into obscurity since the killing of Justius de Vhereste, who had been set to be the heir before his untimely death. With the dwindling fortune of the name, their manor has fallen into disrepair. Ivy swallows the sides of the two-floor building and windows on various sides of the house are cracked, if not shattered completely. It watches over the town of Nērisk from atop the hill it sits upon, ever a phantom looming over the shoulders of the commonfolk. A reminder of their debts. [[Return.|SETTING]]