Messages

Yes I remember that thread, because I tend to make a note of WHO IS ACTUALLY A NAZI SYMPATHISER.

I take offense at being called a Nazi sympathiser as it is not a realistic or accurate depiction of my character. Same goes for the term "fascist", which you seem to be using incorrectly as well.
Don't worry, friend. I forgive your ignorance. Just please stop saying such nonsense so that we can remain civil.

"I didn't buy a game because it wasn't exactly like the marketing promised"

Clarification: I didn't buy a game because it wasn't what I hoped it would be, despite the game having been marketed as something I would have wanted.

So when I say far-right nutjobs are the ones pushing this regressive anti-women, anti-minority agenda, you chipping in doesn't convince me I'm wrong.

You characterization of the BF5 issue was incorrect, so I corrected it so that people who were not perhaps as aware of the background could be made aware.
I have no issue with games that have minority or female characters, as long as the characters make sense for the setting and premise of the game.

As for the rest of my quoted statements (from 2011? Neat! I didn't realise I had a fan!), I stand by every single one and am happy to discuss or debate them elsewhere.

Well, I think the Adventure game genre has been largely spared from the brunt of it, but I've seen lots of hateful comments surrounding many other games, and to name just one example the latest Battlefield got tons of hate for being "disrespectful to history" by letting people pick the gender and skin color of their avatar in a game set in WW2, whereas the 2004 game Silent Storm, also set in WW2 and you can pick the skin color and gender of your avatar, doesn't have a single review scolding the game for it.

I decided not to buy BF5 because of this. Allow me to explain the difference between the two games you described as examples and why your comparison of the two of them is nonsense:

BF5 was marketed as "the most immersive and realistic historical Battlefield experience to date" while showing non-realistic characters, events, equipment and situations. Dropping a V-1 rocket onto a french field or showing a british soldier with a samurai sword being just a couple examples, and yes, the female soldier with the robot arm being another.
I wound up playing some more Red Orchestra 2 instead, to get my realistic WW2 shooter fix. If BF5 was marketed more accurately for what it was, a fantasy rendition loosely based on a WW2 setting, I doubt there would have been any issue at all, seeing that the Battlefield series has had a proper sci-fi entry before. Instead the developers doubled down and went on to declare anyone questioning their marketing and game not aligning with one another a "bigot" or "uneducated" and stating that such people should "go read a book". Fine ways to alienate your core audience, and from what I've seen the sales were impacted as one can expect.

Silent Storm was a silly WW2 tactics game with nazi mecha suits and didn't pretend to be anything else.

This reminds me: I should really replay Silent Storm. It was good!

10th MAR 2019: I have been approached by a few artists, and will be discussing with them for now.


Interested in discussing theme and pricing for music for a non-commercial game project I have.

Tracks needed for the game
- Intro music w/ menu ambient
- Track for end credits w/ small amount of custom vocals

Other short tracks may be discussed for additional compensation.

If you are interested, please contact me either by posting in this thread with your contact information, sending me a forum PM or via email at tomik@whamgames.com.

I have to admit I had no idea where the art was from, it just came up in a google search when I was looking for a suitable image to represent the theme.

[Courtly Love]

Courtly Love



A nobleman, a knight, or perhaps even a more unexpected individual in love, but alas, the target of this love is a fair lady of far-too-high status; a princess, a queen, an empress.
Such cruel love burns the soul as it goes unfulfilled, lingering in the back of the mind, poisoning thoughts and sparking longing and pain day and night, while the noble status of one or both parties are held back from fulfilling their wants and needs by the requirements of their station in society.

Write a story of courtly love.
Your story may take place in any setting where you feel you can insert this theme.
Stories must not be longer than 15 000 characters to ensure the limited time for reading and voting can be used effectively.

Deadline: 19th of March 2019 - 23:59 UTC

Oh man, this is absolutely awesome! I worried so much that I'd made a sprawling mess, and since each story had just a handful of choises to make I thought the "adventure" might come across as too shallow, but I guess it worked out in the end.
Thank you, everyone! I needed a pick-me-up and this has me feeling all fuzzy and warm inside.

Next topic coming up later today.

1st > Flugeldufel
2nd > Cassiebsg 4
3rd > WampireWombat

[Baron]

I'm late (due to being out of town for a few days), but winner has not been declared yet, so:

Best Character: Baron with The Dream-Roving Dalliance
Best Atmosphere: cat with A to B (What can I say, I like trains)
Best Writing: Baron with The Dream-Roving Dalliance
Best Branching Plot: cat with A to B (What can I say, I like trains)

Mine is designed to invite multiple reads, but each path is fairly short and so the format I went for is best suited for reading one or two paths, moving on and coming back another time for another path or two to see what's there.

Ghost is back!
Gost is making a game!
Ghost is making a NEW game!

The three best pieces of news so far this year! \o/

[(41)]

(41)

Spoiler

From the sky comes an orange light, then another. Above them, great scaled bodies twist and angle themselves down upon the village. You let loose a mighty roar that shatters windows and forces people to cover their ears. A woman stumbles and loses her balance, only to be caught by a man beside her. The children scatter and flee, hiding in alleys and in houses. At the foot of the noble's stand, men in platemail grip the pommels of their swords and exchange nervous looks. One throws his weapon to the dirt and breaks into a run.

Your brothers and sisters descend upon the town. A horn blares in alarm, then another. Cries rise up into the sky, followed by bolts and arrows and spears, but none of what this petty little hamlet can muster against your kin can so much as scratch one of the great scales that cover your body from horned head to the barbed tip of a tail. It mattered not. You and your kin are hungry. It was too late for this place, for these people.

It had been that way since you arrived.

[close]

(42)

Spoiler

Having made yourself, and your wealth and outlandish abilities, well known to the crowd, you find yourself approached by an envoy. A disappointed groan sounds from the crowd of commoners as your attention is drawn elsewhere, but in the noble stands all eyes are on you, expectant and hungry.

With a smile and a final flourish you turn back to the crowd and, from the silken sleeve of your exquisite robe, you produce a shower of colourful sparks and a rain of small sugary sweets that fall to the edge of the stage to be gathered by the excited children.

The envoy taps her foot impatiently. You smile and nod your head, gesturing for her to lead you to your impatient and magnanimously wealthy hosts for tonight. You know from experience that the people's favor and the show of wealth would serve you well with them. The people of these humid and cool western lands were simple that way, easily impressed.

The time for trade negotiations is at hand.

[close]

(43)

Spoiler

You smile and wave to your companions, and with a cheer they burst into a jolly song full of colourful language and laughter. The words of the song tell of adventures and celebrations, and in their minds the people dancing around your stage can see themselves as part of just such scenes. The local tavern doors are thrown open and several barrels of wine and mead are brought out and served without payment to the cheering crowd.

Revelry takes hold of the town. Servants provide wine to the nobles in their stands, and some even step down from their elevated seats to join the people on the ground. For a moment in time, the music, dance and joy you have brought to this place means that highborn and lowborn alike are able to share in one the same celebration.

Friendships are forged, kindnesses exchanged, and all those present cheerily agree that it would be lovely if the morning never came to bring an end to such a wonderful night.

[close]

(44)

Spoiler

You grin and crouch down at the edge of the stage, then reach to pick up one of the excited children into your arms. The boy, no older than six or seven, is skinny and light, and beams to you. You whisper a word of instruction into his ear, then toss the boy straight up as showers of sparks and coloured smoke burst from the wrists of your robe. As the light and smoke fades, the boy is nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly there is a tense silence. A mother calls out in a trembling voice. You waggle your finger at her and shake your head, then step aside with a grand flourish of colour and motion, directing the crowd's attention expertly to the small wagon with which you had arrived, and the hooded driver sitting at its front, watching the horses. The driver throws his hood back, and reveals underneath the smiling face of the boy, to which the crowd respond with excited screams and cheers. The boy, now in on one of your greatest secrets, silently vows never to reveal them, and to learn from them, so that he, too, can one day be just like you.

A child's life is set upon a new course this day.

[close]

(45)

Spoiler

You feel yourself ready. Your hand reaches into a hidden pouch within your dress and produces a pinch of bright yellow dust. With a leap you move across the stage, then toss the powder into the fire, where it produces a sickly green smoke that washes over the crowd. The music grows to a more frantic pace, the people move faster to match it. You begin to spin and dance once more, occasionally reaching down to caress the hair of a person dancing close to the edge of the stage.

A scream emanates from the stands where the nobles celebrate. You smile as you spot one of the older, weaker men having stood up and danced himself right off the edge, face-down into the dirt several feet below. Soon he is followed by a couple, wrapped in a tight embrace, their feet hopping and stepping them against and through the wooden balustrades, crashing over one of the guards below. More screams, terrified expressions, but none stop dancing.

None can stop dancing. The old man stumbles back, recoiling in horror, only for a fair lady with blonde hair to wrap her arms around his frail form, leading him into an unwilling dance routine. Exhaustion, injury, death. You can feel the energy of these people in your fingertips, tingling, growing more potent. You smile to your companions, one of whom looks up at you from underneath the heavy hood covering his face of bare bone and empty eye sockets.

This place will feed your troupe for weeks to come.

[close]

(46)

Spoiler

Your gracious movements allure the crowd, as they should. Gaping mouths, wide eyes. These poor dullards must not have seen anything as graceful and wondrous as you in their lifetimes, and once you left this place, they likely never would. You smile, and in their eyes it was the beautiful expression of love and grace, but in the back of your mind you cannot help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction as all eyes are drawn to you.

You turn and move across the stage, making your way closer to the noble stands. Arching your body you bulge out your muscles so that their shapes are made obvious through the colourful attire you wear. Women stare and gasp for breath, while the men look on with envy and scorn. You can feel it in the air, the need to be as you are now. Perfect.

You will linger in their memories forever.

[close]

(47)

Spoiler

The palace burns, smoke billowing from its ruined windows. Inside the nobles either choke, burn or flee. Outside they are caught and cut down by the masses. One might look upon it all and see anarchy and madness, to the nobles it surely must have, but in your eyes it is something else: a beautiful new order where all are equal. When the morning light eventually reaches the smouldering ruins of these palaces, there will be no lords and ladies, no servants or underlings. The people know this and are ready for it.

All will work together, and all will be equally lords and equally commoners. No man will stand above or below another, no woman will have to endure the pompous presence of a fat nobleman, no man will have to waste away his fortune at the whim of some highborn woman.

A perfect new world.

[close]

(48)

Spoiler

You duck beneath the arched arms of a couple, and rise up on the other side, shrugging your shoulders free of your dress. You feel the adoring eyes of the crowd upon your smooth, bare skin, and while mothers cover the eyes of their children and the nobles in their stands murmur with disapproval, you lean in towards the nearest man, the old man, and kiss them on the tip of the nose. He blushes and turns his head aside, but cannot take his eyes off you even now. With a smile you dance away from him, your dress seemingly falling apart around your body, glimmering like liquid water as it runs down your skin and to your ankles before vanishing entirely. A woman of fiery red hair and slender build, her cheeks flushed and her eyelids fluttering, presses her back against a wall as if afraid, but you can sense the heat on her breath and the pounding of her heart in her chest. It would be cruel to not let her touch you, taste you. The crowd watches on, every soul awaiting their turn.

You lean in and kiss her on the lips, tasting the mead on her saliva, while she tastes the enchanted honey that is your essence.

[close]

(49)

Spoiler

You step up the the crowd from behind  and begin to move through the milling crowd. Your hand touches the arms of men and women. You know them by the marks on their skin and the blue ribbons on their arms. They smile and join you as you make your way to the front of the crowd, rising to stand upon the marble rim of a great fountain, the fires of the palace beyond flickering through the shape of cascading water.

Your people look upon you, their salvation, their new ruler. You will be different to the others. Fairer, kinder, wiser and stronger than the lords and ladies of old. As the fire cleanses them away, you raise your hands into the air and signal victory. Your circle of thirteen advisors, hand-picked from the crowd, do the same.

They all bow their heads to you now.

[close]

(50)

Spoiler

You lead your people into the palace grounds. The nobles are all there, standing off to the sides with fear in their hollow and lifeless eyes. At the center of them all stands a single figure, taller than the rest, clad in a black velvet robe that reaches the neatly cut grass upon which He stands. The pale-gold crown in his head glimmers in the moonlight.

You stand before Him and bow your head in greeting. He does the same. The crowd behind and around you falls to a uniform silence and anticipation once more.

To pledge yourself, go to (56).
To become the betrayer, go to (58).

[close]

(51)

Spoiler

You offer the man your fine leather jackets.

A trade is made.

[close]

(52)

Spoiler

It is pitch black.

You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

[close]

(53)

Spoiler

The chests burst open and you reach your hand into one of them. A gaudy robe of pink and purple, with gold ribbons and silver medallions emerges. You toss it into the crowd and, like magic, it slips over a stableboy standing near the edge of the stage, turning her dancing body into a colourful and sparkling display of garish colour. The old man find himself in a shimmering suit of black and silver that seems to please him greatly as he dances a hobbling jig with his one remaining leg. A child in the front row turns into a jester of green and purple silks, complete with shiny gold bells that jingle as she spins and laught.

More clothes emerge, as you and your assistants spread them out until what had once been a crowd of drab commoners is more colourful and covered in more gold and silver thread than all the nobles in their elevated stands.

A gift of colour is given to the world.

[close]

(54)

Spoiler

You stand before your throne. Your old bones ache, and you hear a droning buzz in your ears that hasn't left you in years now. You are tired. So very tired. And yet you must rise to your feet, assisted by your servants.

You walk out of the palace, and into the yard, where a great marble fountain has dried up. To see it so silent and lifeless fills you with sorrow. You walk around it, the servants crowding around you, the nobles following behind, then further on down the flagstones that make up the broad path through the palace yard.

You hear the crowds ahead, and soon see them, already through the gates. The hooded figure is there. The sight of that glimmering blade in their hand fills you with drear.

To show compassion, go to (61).
To show cruelty, go to (64).

[close]

(55)

Spoiler

You draw your sword from its scabbard and raise it to the sky, your eyes catching the pale crimson moonlight reflecting from the polished steel. Spears and pitchforks and swords are raised behind you, while the men upon the walls cry out in warning. The sally begins swiftly, with you at its head, charging out through the gate and into the open air beyond.

A wall of shields, spears, horned helms and stern faces await in the darkness, illuminated by the flickering orange glow of torches. A shout rings out, and the air grows thick with whistling arrows, which land either with a dull thud or a scream of a man as he is struck.

You heart races in your chest as you cover the final yards, exhorting your comrades into battle. The two lines crash into one another and a brutal melee breaks out, with the townsfolk joining the town guards in a desperate attack against the force encircling the town.

Did you give these people salvation, or merely a final stand? Only the morning light knows.

[close]

(56)

Spoiler

You meet the dead King's hollow eyes, and the blue ice burning within them. He raises his hand, holding out an orb of crystal-clear ice in his bony fingers. A chill washes over the palace grounds as the ceremony begins.

You kneel. Every man, woman and child kneels. You hold out the dagger of ice and soon feel it lift from your hand. You look up at the dead grin of the King's face and feel him evaluating you just as he evaluates the gift you bring. You sense satisfaction.

The blade of ice is pressed into the orb of ice. From within a great cold emerges, dripping to the ground like invisible liquid, spreading steadily into the shivering crowd. You feel it reach your knees and feet, then creep up into your very core. Your heart beats its last beat and you know that the people of the town share your fate.

You hear His voice in your head, even though He lacks the tongue with which to speak. Knowing it is his will, you rise and stand before your king. As you rise, so do the countless dead people around you.

You will all be happier this way.

[close]

(57)

Spoiler

You call for steel. Steel in the hands of men and women. Steel in the bars that shut the gates. Steel in the souls of those who would see the morning light. Your call is answered with shouts and rattling swords over shields, and with a blaring horn, calling the townsfolk to the walls.

Another horn answers the first, but this one is louder. A low, mournful blare from far away. It, too, is answered by shouts and rattling, far out in the night at first, but steadily approaching, along with the rhythmic thumping of boots.

The sky flashes orange, and a great flaming projectile streaks over your head and into the roof of a house. As men with buckets rush to put out the fire, more projectiles fly out. Soon the sky, already dark in the cloudy night, is filled with invisible death: countless arrows arc over your head, catching many of the firefighters in their backs and shoulders. You turn your eyes from their plight so as not to weaken your resolve, and instead face the gate.

Around you the men and women close their ranks, preparing for the inevitable. The great gate, its face decorated with silver, its hinges with brass, shudders as if a great hammer had struck it from beyond. Men rush forward to press their bodies against it. The old man is there, too, hobbling on with the rest of them. Another blow, then another. Some of the men are thrown back and the gate begins to crack.

Finally it breaks. As the gatekeepers stumble away, you face the attackers. Stout men wielding great axes and round shields, their faces covered with great masks of solid black iron, hunched low with the weight of their armour, surge forward. They pause, however, when faced with you: a dark shadow, silhouetted against the blazing inferno of the houses that could not be saved, surrounded by men and women with steel in their eyes, and their hearts.

You would not be broken this night.

[close]

(58)

Spoiler

You meet the dead King's hollow eyes, and the blue ice burning within them. He raises his hand, holding out an orb of crystal-clear ice in his bony fingers. A chill washes over the palace grounds as the ceremony begins.

You kneel. Every man, woman and child kneels. You hold out the dagger of ice and soon feel His presence over you. You look up at the dead grin of the King's face and feel him evaluating you just as he evaluates the gift you bring. You sense his trepidation as the moment anticipated for centuries approaches.

You make your move. The dagger of ice turns in your hand and lashes out. It cuts deep into the King's chest, and you sense the silent scream emanating from his being. The dead nobles surge in, their guards lift their swords, but it is too late. Frost covers the dead King's robe as he stumbles back. The ice blade snaps, its tip trapped within His body.

You rise and stand as He falls. One of the dead guards rushes you in an attempt to avenge his King, but is struck aside by a wall of bodies, pitchforks and spears. The living townspeople surge forward, hacking and cutting and crushing the dry bones and cold, dead flesh of the guards.

They will be free once more.

[close]

(59)

Spoiler

You call for fire, to the shock and horror of the guard captain. A great, screeching roar from beyond the wall invigorates the man, however, and his questions are forgotten as he begins to bark orders to haul anything flammable up to the wall.

The crowd disperses, hauling furniture, dismantled carts and even doors of the houses out into the street and up to the wall. Great pails of oil are carried out as well, with even the children carrying smaller buckets and following the adults' lead to pour the liquid over the wooden barricade.

Another scream, twice as loud, echoes in the night. People upon the wall call out warnings and begin to hastily clamber down. You are handed a torch, just like the one dozens of others carry in their hands as well. It feels heavy in your hand, and the heat of its flame brings a bead of sweat to your brow.

You raise the torch over your head, then toss it forward, onto the wall. It flies in a high arc, then lands atop the surface of the tavern door, the sign of a raven clearly visible, carved on its surface. The oil catches fire in a flash. More torches are thrown, and soon the town is encircled by a great wall of fire.

Beyond the orange and yellow flames you see the reflections of countless eyes, surrounded by deep shadows that seem to devour the horizon. Teeth as long as man's leg glimmer in the beasts maws, claws like great bone sabers flash as they approach the flame, only to recoil at the last moment, as the heat becomes unbearable.

Will the fire hold them back, or will the morning find only a charred ruin here?

[close]

(60)

Spoiler

You begin to walk out through the gates, and the crowd follows you. Somewhere to your left a harp begins to play, while to your right a woman begins to sing. More voices join in, both inside and outside of the walls.

Tents big and small spread out before your eyes in a seemingly endless field. Confused faces peer out, then fall victim of their emotions. Some smile or laugh. Some cry and wrap their arms around their loved ones. Many join in on the song.

A choir of a dozen green-skinned brutes, clad in leathers and standing nine feet tall, clasp gnarled hand in hand and sing in rumbling baritones. A choir of slender women of bronze skin, almond-shaped eyes and vivid green hair cascading down to their ankles raise their faces, and voices, to the sky and perform their own delicate variant of the shared song.

Baskets of food are brought out, and the innkeepers assistants haul out a cart with four barrels of drink to be shared. It was not enough. None if it would be enough for such a gathering.

But for this one night, that didn't matter. For this one night, all the peoples would share what little they had, and be merry.

[close]

(61)

Spoiler

The hooded figure looks to you, and you look at them. You bow your head and, as you look up once more, you smile. You knew this day would come, and that the people would one day arrive here, at the behest of this outsider, to fulfill their lofty dreams of greatness.

You've ruled for many a long year. Led your people through the Long Winter and the Summer of Vermin, and yet they cannot see. They forget the celebrations, the quiet nights spent safely in their homes, the countless sunrises that washed the town with their light. They only recall the hardships, the strong measures you took to thwart the spread of plague, or the conscription summer of 642. They think they will find the coffers full, the treasure stuffed with jewelry and the granaries brimming. They will find but cobwebs and misery in this palace.

The hooded one walks up to you, that cursed blade in their hand. The people around them look on with contempt, the pitiable fools. You fear none of them will see many more summers.

If only you could have done more, somehow. If only you could have made some further sacrifice to buy these people the happiness they so deserved.

You drop yourself to one knee and bow your head.

You wonder if the one under the hood understands what they have brought upon this world. Perhaps they were the harbinger of doom all along, and this is just the final act in their plan to bring ruin to this kingdom.

Your reign ends, and with it, your realm will die.

[close]

(62)

Spoiler

You reach into a chest and pull out the skin of a great beast, a tiger of orange and black stripes. You press your face into the soft, luxurious pelt and inhale the scent of its fur. It calls you, stirring within your mind images of a hunt.

You wrap the pelt around yourself and smile as you crouch down low. Your claws sink into the wood of the stage floor as your keen ears seek out and identify each individual voice in this cacophonous crowd.

Your prey do not even look your way as you pounce them, leaping into the crowd in a majestic arc, sinking your teeth and claws into the warm, living body of a man.

You will hunt freely this night, and be sated.

[close]

(63)

Spoiler

Faster. Sweat beads on your skin as it struggles to cool you off.

Faster. Steam rises into the air as bodies spin and twist and turn and tumble around one another.

Faster. A circle begins to form around the stage, people joining the seemingly endless spinning motion.

Faster. The circle of bodies blurs, one person melting into the next.

FASTER. You cannot stop.

FASTER. You will never stop.

FASTER. It cannot stop.

It never stops.

[close]

(64)

Spoiler

The hooded figure looks to you, and you look at them. You turn your head to your left, then your right, and see that all is in place. You knew this day would come, and that the people would one day arrive here, at the behest of this outsider, to fulfill their lofty dreams of greatness.

But you have not sat idle while waiting for this outsider's arrival. Oh no. Not at all.

You snap your fingers, the sounds carried crisp and clear through the open yard, echoing from the decorated walls of the palace. The crowd stops in its tracks. Fifty paces separate you from the hooded figure.

A volley of crossbow-bolts buzzes in the air above your head. The feel of the air moving with the force of their passing is an exhilarating sensation. Countless men and women fall, screaming and flailing, as their bodies are pierced by the cold steel bolts. The hooded one shouts in anger and charges, only for another salvo of projectiles to meet them head on.

Mere minutes later the palace grounds are empty again, save for the layer of still bodies that now litter the grassy field. You step over the body of the hooded figure and plant your boot over their wrist, forcing that cursed blade from their grip.

Your rule has not ended this night.

[close]

(65)

Spoiler

A hand takes your own, but this time you do not let it go, but instead pull it toward yourself. You wrap your arm around the warm, glistening body of the person near you and plant your lips upon theirs. They respond in kind, the tip of their tongue upon yours, their body trembling against you, their hand grasping at your back, fingernails scraping your bare skin.

You open your eyes and tilt your head, and past their head you see others. A group of four sink into a pile of hay. A married couple embrace. A pair of secret childhood lovers, now grown into maturity, rediscover one another in a burst of passion.

A thousand new loves, like stars in the sky, burn brightly tonight.

[close]

[(21)]

(21)

Spoiler

You fall silent and inhale, allowing the force-of-nature sound of the crowd to wash over you. You find within its ebb and flow a rhythm, a rising and falling arc of sounds embedded in the cacophony.

You raise your voice and begin to sing, forming words that flow in time with the chaotic crowd. Most would not hear you, but the ones that do, cannot help but raise their eyes to you, as your clear voice cuts through the noise.

Voices begin to join in on you, discordant and messy, but they all share the same sentiment.

To sing of tears, go to (28).
To sing of laughter, go to (32)

[close]

(22)

Spoiler

The coarse fabric may be light, but as the heat of the moment takes over, even that is too much. You slip yourself free of your travel robes and your boots, and soon all the rest of it. You are not alone, either. The crowd, overcome with a feverish need to be free of their bonds, are also stripping themselves.

Hairy and smooth. Long and tall. Skinny and fat. Light and dark. Bodies of all shapes and sizes and colours surround you, and you love the sight of them all. There is no guilt here, no taboo. Nothing is hidden from the eyes as bare bodies encircle one another in the feverish pace of the dance.

People climb onto the stage to join you, they take your offered hand for just a moment, so that they can feel your touch and motion, only to slip free and find another partner to carry on with.

Faster. Faster. Faster. Go to (63).
Slower. Slower. Slower. Go to (65).

[close]

(23)

Spoiler

You subdue yourself enough to dig your hand into the pocket of your travel robe. From there you pull out a small box of brass, embedded with a perfectly polished gemstone of crimson. It pops open easily, revealing within a black void that seems to go on forever.

Suddenly the sound of laughter dies. The nobles in their stands gasp for air, while the crowd below your stage choke and stare at one another in shock, as if the very air from their lungs had been sucked out in an instant. A mother calls out to her children, but in vain, for no voice leaves her lips.

You snap the box shut. It feels warm in your hand, even through your supple leather glove. No-one even looks at you as you turn and begin to walk toward the town gate.

You will savor these precious voices forever.

[close]

(24)

Spoiler

You signal to your traveling companions and they haul from your wagon a set of great chests. You dance over to them and, from the heavy chain hanging around your neck, you produce a great brass key with which you unlock the chests one by one.

To dress as people do, go to (53).
To dress as the animals do, go to (62).

[close]

(25)

Spoiler

You stride off the stage, and the people part for you, then turn to follow as you lead them down the main street and toward the great gates. Fires are lit upon the walls, illuminating the dull cyclopean stones that make up the perimeter of the ancient town. Guards stand atop the walls, spears and crossbows in hand, gazing beyond into the night.

The watch captain sitting atop a majestic white horse looks at the crowd gathered at your behest, then to you.

To open the gates, go to (29).
To hold the gates, go to (31).

[close]

(26)

Spoiler

You lead your people across town. The nobles hastily climb down from their elevated seats and are rushed ahead of you on horses and carriages so that they can return to hiding behind their walls. The crowd chants on, marching in unison as they approach the iron fence and gate that separates the palace grounds from the rest of Town. Beyond lie the gardens and fountains, the marble halls and tables laid out with silver and gold and endless food.

To bring fire to this place, go to (27).
To bring cold to this place, go to (30).

[close]

(27)

Spoiler

You exhort the crowd. No more shall they suffer in poverty and filth while the lords and ladies feast. No more shall they be looked down upon by those who think themselves better than them. Two of the carriages caught outside of the fence are broken and set alight. Torches are made, and pitchforks and spears gathered. Inside the fence stand the guards, moving around nervously with swords in hand, thought many of their rank stand outside, their helmets removed, their crests of loyalty torn off.

You give the order, and the charge begins. The gate is overwhelmed, the decorated gardens with their ancient trees are set on fire. Shouts and screams ring out, echoing over the thundering roar of the crowd moving in on the palace. You stand back and watch as the culmination of all your hard work and preparation bears fruit at last. The palace windows grow orange on every night, but on this night they glow brighter than ever before.

To make all equal, go to (47).
To establish a new order, go to (49).

[close]

(28)

Spoiler

Above the roiling crowd your song turns to sorrow. Your words describe the fading of a world, the draining of colour from the sky and the trees, the slowly spreading cold that freezes the lakes and rivers and claims all.

After a moment your song holds no words at all,  just a hum that conveys a mournful melody so potent and powerful that those who hear it are reduced to sobs and tears. The crowd begins to collapse in on itself, overwhelmed with sorrow that is from beyond their comprehension, beyond the world they inhabit.

From within you, through sound and raw emotion, the spirits of a long-lost world whisper into the minds of these people, and their minds are torn asunder.

This world will go on to forget us all.

[close]

(29)

Spoiler

You signal for the captain to open the gates. His expression is weary and his mouth opens as if to protest your decision, but the demanding nature of the great crowd silences him where he sits. His gauntleted hand rises into the air, then falls in an arc to signal the crews manning the great iron chains.

Men shout and strain and sweat as they pull on the chains, and slowly the heavy iron doors are peeled aside.

For war, go to (55).
For peace, go to (60).

[close]

(30)

Spoiler

You rub your hands together, the night air misting before your face. From your robes you pull out a vial of liquid and a silver blade. The former you pour over the latter, and it turns to translucent ice in your hand, radiating cold all around you. The people recoil from it, giving you room and forming a circle of empty air around the spot upon which you stand. You look up at the palace windows, and feel the nervous eyes behind them, all looking down at you and the people following you.

They know what must be done this night, and so do you. With three long strides you reach the iron gate and touch it with the tip of the blade. Pale frost creeps up the bars, until they shatter like glass and scatter around your feet. You step through, and the people follow.

To meet the king, go to (50).
To become the king, go to (54).

[close]

(31)

Spoiler

With a hard look and a nod of your head you acknowledge the captain. His eyes lock with yours and a shared understanding is had without a single spoken word. He turns from you and addresses the guards at the gate. His words are stern and short, but they carry the weight of the world in the eyes and ears of those gathered.

Spears are handed out, along with crude bows and torches. The crowd behind you begins to form lines and pick up what meager gear they can. None look sullen or weary, for you have given them a direction; a purpose.

To meet the night with steel, go to (57).
To meet the night with fire, go to (59).

[close]

(32)

Spoiler

Above the roiling crowd your song turns to a sound of joy and mirth. Your words describe the playful summer rains and the warmth of the sun as it caresses the shimmering lakes. You smile as you bring forth such warm and joyful images as your soul can muster, and the people smile with you.

After a moment your song holds no words at all, and instead turns into chuckles and laughter, soon joined in by the crowd itself. The very sound of your voice now fills the mind with images of small animals at play, of leaves playing in the wind and of smiling faces just like the ones now looking up at you from the crowd below.

To leave the people with this sensation, go to (34).
To take this sensation with you, go to (23).

[close]

(33)

Spoiler

You enter the crowd, and they welcome you with open arms. Cheers and offers of bed, board, wine and meat are made in earnest, and soon you find yourself in the local tavern, standing atop a table, recounting the best of your japes and jokes while the crowd continues to celebrate.

As the night winds down you begin to feel tired. As you lay yourself to sleep upon the straw bed, you wonder of the faint sensation behind your eyes. As you slumber for the last time, the faintest doubt creeps into your mind. Was the wine truly so sweet, or was it that way to cover up the taste of poison?

You never wake, but your memory lives on for many years in the minds of the people.

[close]

(34)

Spoiler

You make your way to the gate, then out the small doorway to its side. Before you is laid out the world, its hills and trees and endless roads. There is still much to see, and your heart feels light.

It has been a good day.

[close]

(35)

Spoiler

You bow to the nobility, and away from the crowd. As you rise up from the bow you feel a hand grab your belt from behind, followed by a harsh yank. A fist finds your stomach, and a boot to the teeth has you tasting blood. You call out for mercy, but the crowd scorned has none for you.

The nobles in their stand look on, as you become just another form of entertainment to them, worthy only of polite smiles and clapping, never of their true compassion.

[close]

(36)

Spoiler

Your story has brought tears into the eyes of many in the crowd. The old man from before is seen consoling a young woman overcome by emotion. The crowd part as you step down from the stage and head toward the tavern, where your meal and drinks are paid for, and where polite conversation is offered as people hope to learn more of you.

To stay the night, go to (37).
To finish your stay, go to (33).

[close]

(37)

Spoiler

You feel a touch on your shoulder, as slender hands grasp you and give you a playful squeeze. As you turn in surprise, you meet the almond-shaped eyes like emerald gemstones, set in a delicate face of skin like smooth chocolate. Pink lips twist into a smile as the lovely lady, the secret inspiration of your tale, whispers in your ear.

Perhaps you will stay here for longer than just this night.

[close]

(38)

Spoiler

Your story has lit fires into the hearts of many in the crowd. The children look on with admiration as their fathers brandish swords and spears, vowing to defend their loved ones from harm. The crowd part as you step down from the stage and head toward the tavern, where your meal and drinks are paid for, and where polite conversation is offered as people hope to learn more of you.

To stay the night, go to (39).
To finish your stay, go to (33).

[close]

(39)

Spoiler

You feel a touch on your shoulder, as a strong hand grasp you and give you a firm squeeze. As you turn in surprise, you meet the fierce eyes of the old man, the veteran of many wars. He smiles and nods his head, and tells you a tale of his own. He tells of how he fought for her loved ones, of how he sacrificed his leg to save a beloved friend... For once, you become the audience. It is a good feeling. Refreshing.

Perhaps you two will share the road ahead, come morning light.

[close]

(40)

Spoiler

You spread your great, leathery wings and swing them downward, sending a great wave of ari washing over the crowd. A woman stumbles and loses her balance, only to be caught by a man beside her. The children scatter and flee, hiding in alleys and in houses. At the foot of the noble's stand, men in platemail grip the pommels of their swords and exchange nervous looks.

You flap your wings again and feel you massive, scaled body rising into the air. The crowd look upon you in awe and terror as you take flight, soon disappearing from their sight, but not from their minds. Your brothers and sisters cast their shadows as they fly overhead.

It is time to join them.

[close]

[The Square of Choises]

The Square of Choises


(1) START HERE -->

Spoiler

The crowds gather under a purple sky, surrounded by the smell of smoke and spices, chattering and murmuring in awe at the new arrivals gathering upon the town square. The usual bluster and business of the market is replaced by a great stage. To the west lie the great gates, now closed for the night. To the east is the palace of nobility, a place of great wealth. To the north sit elevated stands, built of fine wood and adorned with colourful banners, upon which sit the nobility, lords and ladies in finest silks. To the south are the houses, from the windows and doors of which the common folk stare and approach.

All eyes are upon you.

To call for silence, go to (2)
To call for noise, go to (3)

[close]

(2)

Spoiler

You gesture to the crowd, making depressive movements with your hands, as if pushing the very sounds in the air to the dirt surrounding your elevated stage. An air of anticipation grows around you, the excitement in the air tasting of electricity. An old man coughs, unable to help himself, and despite themselves the people give the man harsh looks, as if his frailty in old age might ruin the moment.

To speak to the crowd, go to (4)
To dance for the crowd, go to (5)

[close]

(3)

Spoiler

You make a broad gesture with your hands, inviting the crowd to join you, then raise your fists into the air with a shout. The people around you raise their voices in unison, shouting and cheering, pumping their fists at the sky as the town is filled with their dissonant voices.

To call for order, go to (6).
To call for chaos, go to (7).

[close]

(4)

Spoiler

You open your mouth and introduce yourself, your voice carried clearly through the air, washing over the people as they come to know you at last, the stranger from far away, the exotic traveler. Your every word holds great power, drawing in the undivided attention of commoners and nobles alike. Even the birds of the sky seem to fall silent in recognition of your oration.

To tell a joke, go to (8).
To tell a story, go to (9).

[close]

(5)

Spoiler

You lean your body forward, then rise up in a smooth, snaking motion while sliding yourself forward along the raised platform. Your limbs move in hypnotic ways as you begin to dance, the silence around you punctuated only by the soft sounds made by your movements and the thumps of your feet as they land after each flourishing motion. Adoring eyes look up at you, mouths hang open, lips forming silent oohs and aahs at the display of the expertly choreographed movements of your body.

You pause to draw breath, feeling yourself well introduced thought motion alone.

To perform a daring flip, go to (12).
To perform a winding pirouette, go to (13)
To entertain the crowd with a joke, go to (8)

[close]

(6)

Spoiler

You begin to pump your fist into the air in a steady rhythm, and the crowd picks it up. Your voice begins to lead a chant, the words mattering little for now. All that matters is that these people are now chanting with you. Their voice is yours, and your voice is theirs. This is the day they have waited for. You take a single step, and you can already feel the crowd surging, ready to take the next step with you.

To march to the gate, go to (25).
To march to the palace, go to (26).

[close]

(7)

Spoiler

You exhort the people on. Louder. Louder. LOUDER.

They stomp their feet and shout and scream. Individual voices are lost in the cacophony of madness. A drum beats out of beat somewhere. Hands are clapped together. A man rips off his shirt and beats his chest like a beast.

Bodies flail and swing wildly, as people approximate turns and dances of all manner. Some collide with one another, only to pick themselves up and carry on.

And yet, above it all, your voice carries clearly across the gathered mass of people.

To dance with the people, go to (20).
To sing with the people, go to (21).

[close]

(8)

Spoiler

You grin and gesture wildly as you begin to recount the tale of the priest, the peddler and the wench. As you deliver the punchline, the crowd bursts in cheers and laughter and you spot the old man from before wiping a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. The people want more, and the children up front jump with joy as you smile and carry on.

To look to the nobles, go to (10).
To look to the crowd, go to (11).
To surprise them with acrobatics, go to (12).

[close]

(9)

Spoiler

Your words turn to a distant place, a forgotten land of a great empire, and the heir to the throne: a young woman with a skin of silken chocolate and a hair of shimmering obsidian. As you recount her time of riding across the great plains, of hunting with her brothers in the jungles and of sending away suitors that fail to appease her sense of adventure, the crowd and the nobility both listen on intently. As a lover scorned sends an assassin her way and you recount of a cruel blade shimmering in the night much like the one slowly enveloping the town now, you once more sense the baited breaths and anticipation in the air.

To tell a story of love, go to (14).
To tell a story of hate, go to (15).

[close]

(10)

Spoiler

You begin to recount the tale of the nobleman's folly, of a bumbling pompous fool inheriting a great wealth only to waste it all in vanities and foolishness. Pointing your finger at the elevated stands where the men in silken shirts and hats grow red in the face, you lavish your depiction of the fictional noble with details picked from the local nobility. A crooked nose from the bearded one, the purple hat with gilded stripes from the fat one, the ridiculous gemstones around the neck of the mayor. All the while the noble women fan themselves to hide their smirks, while casting sly, hopeful glances your way. The crowd cheers at you, and shower you with coins and flowers as you bow to them, and away from the shamed nobles starting to shuffle down from the stands to make their way to the palaces for the night.

To celebrate with the people, go to (33).
To gather your newly gained wealth and leave into the night, go to (34).

[close]

(11)

Spoiler

You begin to recount the tale of the foolish farmer, the one who used his wife's undergarments to dress up the scarecrow, and who's seeds are picked off by birds and the rain. You look to a man in the crowd, a tankard of mead in hand, and jest of drunkenness. The nobility laugh and clap politely, their jewelry jangling around them, the look in their eyes promising status and wealth as you flash a grin their way, gesturing to the people and their failings. For of course it is the failure of character, the lack of strength and wisdom, that doom men and women to poverty, while those with the right stuff now sit in the stands, laughing at their lesser kin.

As your show draws to a close, the old man is no longer in the crowd. The children look lost and confused. From the stands come a call for an encore.

To carry on, go to (35).
To gather your newly gained wealth and leave into the night, go to (34).

[close]

(12)

Spoiler

You wind yourself up and smirk at the anticipating crowd, then launch yourself into the air with a great backwards leap, turning around your core and landing expectly upon your feet once more, with a great crash against the stage surface. Flags and banners and streamers decorating the platform flutter around you, and the stage itself creaks and groans beneath you.

The crowd cheer and clap at the display, and you readily repeat it, this time forwards, returning to your initial position with a flourish and a bow of your head.

To breathe fire, go to (16)
To breathe gold, go to (17)

[close]

(13)

Spoiler

You twist your body counter-clockwise, winding yourself up like a spring, then throw yourself into a clockwise spinning motion. The colourful dress you wear flutter around your body, seeming to glimmer and reflect the light of the many small fires decorating the square, turning you into a dazzling human rainbow. Mesmerized, the people look on, the children squealing with delight and the men and women applauding vigorously as their eyes are treated to fantastical vistas, imagined visions of distant and impossible landscapes displayed in a blurred mirage of motion that is you.

To invoke music, go to (18).
To invoke the power of your dress, go to (19)

[close]

(14)

Spoiler

Your voice turns to a loud whisper, and the people all around lean in closer, clinging on to every word, as you detail the assassin climbing the walls, hiding in the trees, and finally discovering the princess as she writes a letter in the light of the moon, her feet in the soothing cool waters of a fountain. The assassin strikes like a viper, only for the princess to catch sight of him in the reflection of the water. Her own dagger meets the assassin's blade with a shower of sparks, and a fierce duel is had in the palace gardens. The two warrior souls match the skill of one another in the labyrinth of roses, and finally collapse in one another's arms as their strength fails them.

The old man in the crowd clutches his cane with shaking hands and one of the girls in the front of the crowd hops up and down on both feet, silently demanding to hear what comes next.

You describe two pairs of eyes meeting one another, two hands intertwined, and a shared realisation. The assassin could not kill the princess, for just as she is too fair and wonderful for any man to deny, she is strong and capable, and worthy not of violence, but admiration.

With a dry throat and parched voice you speak of forgiveness, of new understanding, then laughter as the would-be assassin becomes an unexpected suitor, won over by the beautiful princess.

To wet your throat in the tavern, go to (36).
To leave them wanting more, go to (33).

[close]

(15)

Spoiler

Your voice turns to a loud whisper, and the people all around lean in closer, clinging on to every word, as you detail the assassin climbing the walls, hiding in the trees, and finally discovering his prey in the gardens. A venom-coated blade lashes out, but rather than its mark it finds the empress herself.

Your tale turns to sorrow as the princess discovers her dead mother, then to hate as her soul is filled with vengeance upon her coronation. Great armies are marshalled, machines of war built and brought to bear. The empire is soon at war with itself, broken off into warring factions all struggling either to secure the throne, or the lonely warrior empress now sitting upon its cold ebonwood frame. As you describe the fires of war, the old man in the crowd looks down to his feet, one of which is missing, and his lip trembles.

In the end, just as your throat is parched and your voice begins to fail, the princess is victorious, her mother's death avenged, but the price to be paid for such vengeance is ruination. Not in her lifetime would the palace garden be green and lush again, nor would her brothers return from the field of battle to hunt and sing and feast with her. Her palace would be forever cold and lonely.

To wet your throat in the tavern, go to (38).
To leave them wanting more, go to (33).

[close]

(16)

Spoiler

You raise your head up at the purple sky, and spot the glimmering shape of the crescent moon making its way high above. You inhale, crick your neck, and then exhale. A great gout of hot air and orange flame burst from your throat, and the children in the front row, previously mesmerized with your motion, scream with excitement and terror. You look down upon them, smoke drifting up from your nostrils, and your smile bares your great fangs and forked tongue.

To take flight, go to (40).
To reveal your true might, go to (41).

[close]

(17)

Spoiler

You press your hand over your lips and smile, then blow air into your fingers. A shower of small glittering coins bursts forth, showering over the children in the front row. They, and a few of the adults close enough, scramble to collect the precious tokens into their grubby hands, while a few of the nobles in their stands exchange confused glances.

You step back to give these people room, brush your hand over your silken robes, and aim your eyes at a particularly handsome man in the crowd. With a smile you lean toward him and press your fingertips to your lips, then blow a kiss to the man while his wife looks on with disapproval. From your hand emerges a white dove, fluttering toward the man, its wings brushing his auburn hair before the bird takes off and heads up into the darkening night sky.

To think of wealth, go to (42).
To think of trickery, go to (44).

[close]

(18)

Spoiler

You gesture to your traveling companions, and finally your movements are accompanied by sound. A drum, a harmonica, a stomping foot and a violin all burst into a wondrous sound at your signal, and the crowd joins in on your dance. Young and old take hand in hand, smiling and laughing as the music takes hold of their hearts. The noblemen, at least the ones free of gout, rise and invite their sweethearts to dance, and even the guards at the foot of their elevated benches nod their heads and tap their hands upon their shields to the beat.

For a jolly tune, go to (43).
For a sinister tune, go to (45).

[close]

(19)

Spoiler

You step down from your stage, and into the crowd. The silks of your dress caress the faces, hands and chests of those whom you move past in graceful leaps and flowing movements. The people cannot help themselves, and soon begin to move with you, leaning in to be touched by those enchanted fabrics or the smooth tips of your fingers.

They love you, and you love them all.

To dance out of passion, go to (48).
To dance out of pride, go to (46).

[close]

(20)

Spoiler

You begin to dance. With feverish energy you turn and twist your body, and the crowd joins you in focusing on the raw energy of motion. The square soon resembles a field of tall grass in a windstorm, the people its blades of grass, the sheer energy of your presence the fierce wind that drives the people on.

To undress yourself, go to (22).
To dress yourself up, go to (24).

[close]

I'll have my story out at some point tonight. May do some minor revisions tomorrow, after sleeping on it. Just writing the last handful of chapters now.

Just a quick remark as I put the finishing touches on my project here: holy hell, Sinitrena, this has been a HUGE undertaking to keep sensible!
I'm not sure what I've made here, but it's a monstrosity I can barely control!

EDIT: Removing this entry and reposting later, as I've encountered the post character limit. ->

I'll back it up in my google drive, as with all my FWC entries (see my signature). After voting I can also dump the whole thing here as well.

My idea was to post the first part here, then have links to my website for the options in the story. These would lead to simple HTML pages with the next part and next options, making the story easier to follow and harder to accidentally spoil by reading the wrong part.

I need to do a bit of escapism, and spending a night or two forcing myself to do some creative writing seems like a solid option.
I'll start work on something tonight.

Is it acceptable to store the story and its elements off-site, or does the content of the story need to be located on the AGS Forums themselves?