//Heir of the Hero//: a Choice-Based Narrative Game by Hannah Z.
[[Begin your journey->0]]Now that you’ve returned home from the Dread King’s Catacomb, it is time for you to take up your father’s sword and avenge his death at the hands of Ilmenoth. You lay on your bed, the wounds you’ve suffered in the catacomb barely healed; but bandages and the morning’s first rays of sunlight are enough to restore your strength. Revenge cannot wait.
[[Take up your father’s sword and set out immediately for Ilmenoth’s palace; you don’t have any time to waste.->1]]You sling the strap of his gallant sword over your shoulder and take his shield, picking up the cloak folded in his dusty chest of belongings and throwing it over yourself. He will protect you on your journey, even in death.
The village of Cherry Nook is as busy as usual. Carts full of produce shining with dew and freshly butchered meat—not in the same carts—clatter this way and that in the early daylight as you make your way through the market. A couple of children are laughing and scrabbling all over each other as they tussle by a fruit stand, and you stop by them to buy an apple for energy.
One of the children looks up while wrestling with his little friend, his eyes brightening, and he waves his hand at you while you’re waiting for the fruit seller to fetch a good fruit. You smile and wave back as the boy cries, “Are you going on another adventure? Can I come?”
a) Respond, [[“Yes and no. Sorry, kid, it’s going to be really dangerous. You ought to stay at home where it’s safe. I’ll tell you all about it when I come back, yeah?”->1a]]
b) Respond, [[“Yes, I am. And I would love for you to come along, but the journey will be very long and harrowing. Your mother will miss you, too. Why don’t you stay at home?”->1b]]The boy grins, and his struggling, dust-caked companion clambers into a seated position, too. “Okay!” the first boy nods cheerfully. “You better make it cool, or else I’m not listening.” He pounces back onto his little friend and starts tackling him again. “Rahh! I’m the hero! You’ll never defeat me, evil monster!” You smile briefly at them, turning back to the fruit stand and wondering what’s taking so long.
[[Continue->2]]The boy frowns with disappointment, most likely considering his mother. “Okay, I guess,” he relents softly. His struggling, dust-caked companion clambers into a seated position next to him as he asks, “Can I come next time?” You laugh, bending down to ruffle his hair.
a) Respond, [[“Of course. You can bet on it.”->1baa]]
b) Respond, [[“I don’t know, we’ll have to see just how big and bad the monster is, hm?”->1bab]]The fruit seller has her back turned at the far side of her stand, surrounded on all sides by boxes and shelves full of fresh fruit and working busily on something you can’t see. You stand on the tips of your toes, leaning on the ledge of the fruit stand, trying to peek over her shoulders, but you can’t catch a single glimpse of what she’s doing. She’s always been a bit odd, but you can probably get her attention by calling out to her.
Call, [[“Hey lady, what’s going on back there?”->2a]]The boy grins, nodding cheerfully. “Okay!” He pounces back onto his little friend and starts tackling him again. “Rahh! I’m the hero! You’ll never defeat me, evil monster!” You smile at them, turning back to the fruit stand and wondering what’s taking so long.
[[Continue->2]]The boy puffs out his cheeks. “I can handle any monster!” You watch as he pounces back onto his little friend, yelling, “Rahh! I’m the hero! You’ll never defeat me, evil monster!” You smile at them, turning back to the fruit stand and wondering what’s taking so long.
[[Continue->2]]The fruit seller whips around, glaring at you from the shade of her stand. “I’m just cleaning this apple for you, that’s all,” she snaps. “Be patient, or you’re eating dirt.” You huff and wait for her to finish—just how dirty was this apple of hers?—and take it out of her hand with a begrudging “thank you” when she hands it over. It doesn’t feel wet, so there’s probably still dust and stuff on it.
[[Continue->A0]]Apple in hand, you set out to find your way to Ilmenoth’s palace. You know your father had an old map in his chest of belongings, but every second you spend trying to decipher its numerous arrows and symbols is a second you waste. And you left it behind, anyway.
You look around the bustling marketplace, trying to pick out someone to ask for directions. On the opposite side of the busy main path, you see a small group of adventurous-looking folks consulting a map, holding compasses and tracing lines with their fingers down roads you can’t see; a few stands away from the one you’re standing at, you see a kindly butcher pointing his cleaver in the opposite direction, and a lost-looking customer thanking him and heading that way; and two stands away in the other direction, there’s a lady looking bored and not very busy behind a display of bows and quivers for sale.
a) [[Ask the adventurers for directions.->A0a (ADV)]]
b) [[Ask the butcher for directions.->A0b (BCH)]]
c) [[Ask the bowseller for directions.->A0c (BOW)]]You decide to seek help from the seasoned travelers. If anyone can help you find Ilmenoth’s palace, it’s got to be them. You prepare to cross the busy path to ask them for help; you get ready to walk when there’s a lull in the passing mules and carts, but to your dismay, a big, rattling, horse-drawn carriage comes clunking along in your direction. If you run, you might be able to make it across before you get trampled. If you don’t, you might have to wait a long time for your next chance, and you hate wasting time.
a) [[Make a run for it.->A0aaa]]
b) [[Wait for the carriage to pass.->A0aab]]You decide to get help from the butcher. The path you’d need to cross to reach the adventurers is way too packed, and wasting time is your biggest pet peeve.
You head over to the butcher’s stand, and the smell of fresh, bloody meat overwhelms your senses. He’s hacking at the thigh of a steer with a big cleaver, and if he were anyone else, he would’ve looked downright intimidating. But he’s got a big, welcoming smile on his face, and as people stop by to purchase some of his goods, his voice is soft and patient and he has a warm laugh.
Stopping in front of his big, messy chopping block, you yell over the crunching of bones under the butcher’s cleaver, “Hey! Excuse me!” The butcher stops his cutting at once, bending over his block. He’s bald, with big bushy eyebrows and a big bushy mustache. He looks like he could be anyone’s kindly grandfather, if he were not holding a giant cleaver dyed scarlet with blood from fresh meat.
“What is it?” he asked, flashing you a happy smile.
“Do you know how I can get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace from here?” you ask, and the butcher’s little dark eyes bug out of his head.
“The dark mage’s palace? Why in the world would you ever want to go there?”
a) Answer, [[“I’m Vhan Irvin, and I’m avenging the death of my father.”->A0baa]]
b) Answer, [["Long story.”->A0bab]]
c) Answer, [[“Just visiting.”->A0bac]]You decide to get help from the bowseller. The path you’d need to cross to reach the adventurers is way too packed, and wasting time is your biggest pet peeve.
The bowseller looks like she’s going to give you a difficult time, but that won’t be a problem. As long as she tells you where to go, it doesn’t matter. You stop by her stand, and she glances up at you, frowning. Beautiful wooden bows—longbows, crossbows, shortbows—and quivers and arrows hung around her, as if she were the subject of an exquisite painting. Her icy blue eyes glare at you as she snaps, “What do you want? If you’re just going to stare, then leave.”
“I was going to ask—”
“You have to buy something if you want to talk to me,” the lady tells you, which you think is, frankly, stupid considering she was just talking to you before. You look around and find the cheapest thing she’s got for sale: a single black arrow, for two silver coins. You’ve got two silver coins, but for //her//?
a) [[Buy the arrow and ask.->A0caa]]
b) [[She’s not worth it. Ask someone else.->A0cab]]Steeling yourself as the big carriage—lead by two black horses—approaches, you raise a hand to let the carriage driver know you’re crossing and run across the break in the path. The driver jerks back the reins, yelling out a curse in shock, and the horses whinny and rear up on their hind legs. The first one’s hooves barely miss your head as you dart past, and the second’s strike your shoulder, tearing a strip of cloth from your father’s cloak and sending you tumbling onto the other side of the busy path.
Pain shoots up your arm as the carriage driver shouts at you, and the spooked horses make a ruckus, and someone grabs your uninjured arm and pulls you to your feet. You shoot a triumphant glare at the driver, who shoots you an impolite hand gesture, and you catch your breath as you watch the carriage pass by. When the dust clouds settle and the few spectators disperse, all is back to normal again.
You turn to thank the person who helped to your feet, and see that it was one of the three adventurers you were meaning to ask help from. He is medium height and lean, with sandy brown hair and a goatee making his pointy chin look even pointier. Behind him is a taller, heavyset man with dark tawny skin and lively green eyes, and beside him is a small woman with an olive complexion and what must be quite the attitude. All three of them are wearing dark green cloaks. They’re adventurers, all right. “You okay?” the first one asks, and you nod. “You looked like you were in quite the hurry to get over here. What’s the deal?”
Still struggling to breathe, you reply, “I figured you guys knew your way around, and I need directions. I’m going to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace.”
The three adventurers all raise an eyebrow each, and the first one asks, “You want to go to Ilmenoth’s palace? That’s basically suicide. Why do you want to go there?”
a) Answer, [[“I’m Vhan Irvin, and I’m avenging the death of my father.”->A0aaaaa]]
b) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A0aaaab]]
c) Answer, [[“Just visiting.”->A0aaaac]]Swallowing your impatience, you fold your arms and wait on the side of the path as the loud carriage clatters by. It takes a long time, ages almost, before the carriage passes and the dust it kicked up settles. When you crane your neck to look over the heads of walking townsfolk trailing the carriage, your heart sinks when you see that the adventurers have disappeared. You kick a pebble in frustration, which narrowly misses an old woman’s head. There goes a valuable source of help.
That’s the last time you’re ever waiting for anything again.
a) [[Ask the butcher for directions.->A0b (BCH)]]
b) [[Ask the bowseller for directions.->A0c (BOW)]]The first adventurer grins widely, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. “Vhan Irvin, huh? The hero of Cherry Nook?” He reaches out and musses your hair. “You’re a lot younger than I expected.”
“That’s just a //kid//, Turner,” the lady points out, folding her arms under her green cloak. “You’re too gullible. Anyone can say they’re Vhan Irvin and you’d just believe them in a heartbeat.” The first adventurer, Turner, rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. This is Ady, and this is Blake,” he tells you, gesturing to his fellow adventurers. Ady glares at you, and you can tell you aren’t going to get along. Blake nods in silent greeting, and you nod back. Turner pats your shoulder with gusto, smiling down at you.
“We’re the Greenbacks, and we know every road and town in the land. We’ll show you where to go.”
[[Continue->A1]]The first adventurer frowns, and the lady smirks, “Mysterious, huh? Well, you’re just a kid. You’re going to get killed if you’re headed there alone.”
The first adventurer pats your shoulder reassuringly with a wink. “Come on, Ady, who said this one’s going alone?” Ady shrugs, folding her arms. She seems icy in personality, but you feel you two are going to get along on your journey.
“I’m Turner,” the first adventurer introduces himself. He gestures to his companions, saying, “That’s Blake, and you already know Ady.” Blake nods in silent greeting, and you nod back. Ady flashes her crooked smile at you, and you can tell the malice is already fading from its edge.
“We’re the Greenbacks, and we know every road and town in the land. We’ll show you where to go.”
[[Continue->A1]]The heavyset man chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s either a lie or a sick joke, kid. I like you.” The first adventurer laughs too, but the lady just frowns, looking you up and down. “You’re just a kid,” she says, and you frown. “You’re going to get killed if you’re headed there alone.”
The first adventurer pats your shoulder reassuringly with a wink. “Come on, Ady, who said our friend here is going alone?” Ady glowers, folding her arms. You already know you two aren’t going to get along.
“I’m Turner,” the first adventurer introduces himself. He gestures to his companions, saying, “That’s Blake, and you already know Ady.” Blake smiles at you, and you smile back. He seems aloof but spirited, and you don’t doubt you’ll get along great with him. Ady just glares at you without a word.
“We’re the Greenbacks, and we know every road and town in the land. We’ll show you where to go.”
[[Continue->A1]]The Greenbacks lead you through the busy marketplace, with Turner ahead of you and Ady and Blake behind you, making a sort of triangle formation. As you walk with the seasoned adventurers, you look over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. Though they seem many miles away, they feel as if they are looming over Cherry Nook like giant green goliaths. To you, those mountains are both unnerving and emboldening.
Blake seems to have noticed you looking up, and he tells you, “Those are the Evergreen Mountains. Beyond that is the Southern Sea, and beyond that, Ilmenoth’s Palace.” You nod, your gaze still transfixed on the mountains; this, and a sea, stand between you and vengeance. When you realize this, the mountains seem a lot smaller, a lot easier to climb.
You smack into Turner when he stops walking, and you mumble out a halfhearted apology, peeking over his shoulder to see why he stopped. Ady’s disappeared from your side and is now in front of Turner, scolding him with a frustrated expression on her face.
“For real, Turner! We don’t have time for this! We aren’t abandoning Stonewood for some stranger we just met two minutes ago. We aren’t travel guides, we have places to be, too!”
a) [[“Stonewood?”->A1a]]
b) [[“Stranger?”->A1b]]
c) [[“You aren’t travel guides?”->A1c]]The butcher gasps and smiles widely, like a child being presented a toy. “Well, isn’t that something!” he exclaims. “My son dreams of being a hero like you, you know. You’re younger than I expected.” You hate when people say that.
“Well? Do you know how I can get to Ilmenoth’s palace?”
“I do.” The butcher turns his head and points his bloody cleaver to the farthest end of the marketplace. “Head north, towards the Evergreen Mountains, and cross the Southern Sea. There, only a mile inland, they say you’ll find the ruins of the castle town surrounding Ilmenoth’s palace.”
You stare in the direction his cleaver points, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. A drop of blood falls from the cleaver onto your shoulder, and you shudder and thank the butcher, and set off towards the Evergreen Mountains.
[[Continue->A7]]The butcher raises an eyebrow. “It’s mighty dangerous over there,” he warns. “I hope your situation is dire, or else you shouldn’t go over there.” You roll your eyes.
“It is. Well? Do you know how I can get to Ilmenoth’s palace?”
“I do.” The butcher turns his head and points his bloody cleaver to the farthest end of the marketplace. “Head north, towards the Evergreen Mountains, and cross the Southern Sea. There, only a mile inland, they say you’ll find the ruins of the castle town surrounding Ilmenoth’s palace.”
You stare in the direction his cleaver points, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. A drop of blood falls from the cleaver onto your shoulder, and you shudder and thank the butcher, and set off towards the Evergreen Mountains.
[[Continue->A7]]The butcher squints suspiciously at you, and his little eyes seem to disappear under his big eyebrows. “Hmm...you’re a bit young to go adventuring in such dangerous places like that.” You hate when people call you young. You are, but it ticks you off.
“Yeah, well? Do you know how I can get to Ilmenoth’s palace?”
“I do.” The butcher sighed with resignation and turned his head, pointing his bloody cleaver to the farthest end of the marketplace. “Head north, towards the Evergreen Mountains, and cross the Southern Sea. There, only a mile inland, they say you’ll find the ruins of the castle town surrounding Ilmenoth’s palace.”
You stare in the direction his cleaver points, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. A drop of blood falls from the cleaver onto your shoulder, and you shudder and thank the butcher, and set off towards the Evergreen Mountains.
[[Continue->A7]]You hurry through the busy marketplace, chewing on your lip from bottled up anticipation. As you weave through the people walking from stand to stand, place to place, you look over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. Though they seem many miles away, they feel as if they are looming over Cherry Nook like giant green goliaths. To you, those mountains are both unnerving and emboldening.
According to the butcher, beyond the Evergreen Mountains is the Southern Sea, and beyond that, Ilmenoth’s palace. This viridian giant, and a sea, stand between you and vengeance. When you realize this, the mountains seem a lot smaller, a lot easier to climb.
You don’t even realize when you’ve reached the end of the marketplace, which you didn’t even know ended at all. You take in your surroundings as you come to a stop under a tree, its thin, sparse leaves throwing dappled shade upon your skin. The once packed marketplace has become more spread out, and the path dividing the two sides of it has grown wider; and as the marketplace comes to an end, the path stretches forward. In the place of stands are trees, shading the great path that extends seemingly into forever before you. With the shale and red clay roofs out of the way, you are presented the true majesty of the Evergreen Mountains. The nearest mountain seems to jut out of the earth and into the sky—in fact, the pale blue sky seems to dip into the dark green peak, as if bending down from the heavens to reach it.
If the butcher is right—and he better be—then the path to justice for your father’s death lies just over this mountain. With a deep breath and a narrowing of your eyes, you set forth on the long long road leading from Cherry Nook and to the foot of the Evergreen Mountains.
[[Continue->A8]]With an annoyed glare, you say, “I’ll take that arrow.” The bowseller smirks at you, taking it from its leather quiver, and you fish out two silver coins from your pocket. You give her the coins and she gives you the arrow, and you stuff it in your cloak. You hope you don’t trip and impale yourself on it on your journey; the tip is sharper than a thorn, the shaft sturdy and sleek. At least her wares are of good quality.
“So! What is that you wanted to ask?” the bowseller piped up, resting her chin on her hand.
“Do you know where I could find the dark mage Ilmenoth?” you ask, and the bowseller raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down. She’s probably thinking about how young you are.
“You?” she muses. “What would someone like //you// want with him?”
a) Answer, [[“I’m Vhan Irvin, and I’m avenging the death of my father.”->A0caaaa]]
b) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A0caaab]]
c) Answer, [[“Just visiting.”->A0caaac]]You wave your hand at her dismissively, turning away. “Yeah, never mind.” The bowseller straightens up as if in insult, and you head off to find someone else to ask. You think the adventurers are your best bet, but when you look over the busy path separating you from them, you see that they’ve already gone. If you hadn’t wasted your time at the bowseller’s stupid shop, you could have gotten to them. You want nothing more than to take the bowseller’s black arrow and throw it at her. You sigh, glaring further down the marketplace. The butcher’s still there. He’s your best bet now.
You head over to the butcher’s stand, and the smell of fresh, bloody meat overwhelms your senses. He’s hacking at the thigh of a steer with a big cleaver, and if he were anyone else, he would’ve looked downright intimidating. But he’s got a big, welcoming smile on his face, and as people stop by to purchase some of his goods, his voice is soft and patient and he has a warm laugh.
Stopping in front of his big, messy chopping block, you yell over the crunching of bones under the butcher’s cleaver, “Hey! Excuse me!” The butcher stops his cutting at once, bending over his block. He’s bald, with big bushy eyebrows and a big bushy mustache. He looks like he could be anyone’s kindly grandfather, if he were not holding a giant cleaver dyed scarlet with blood from fresh meat.
“What is it?” he asked, flashing you a happy smile.
“Do you know how I can get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace from here?” you ask, and the butcher’s little dark eyes bug out of his head.
“The dark mage’s palace? Why in the world would you ever want to go there?”
a) Answer, [[“I’m Vhan Irvin, and I’m avenging the death of my father.”->A0baa]]
b) Answer, [["Long story.”->A0bab]]
c) Answer, [[“Just visiting.”->A0bac]]The bowseller’s eyes widen, and she says, “Really? //The// Vhan Irvin?” You nod smugly. She squints at you, then declares, “You’re a pipsqueak, so I don’t believe you. But from what I’ve heard, it’s across the Evergreen Mountains and over the Southern Sea. The Evergreen Mountains supposedly lie at the end of the long, long road that begins at the edge of the marketplace. But that’s just what I’ve heard.” She leans over the ledge of her stand and points at the farthest end of the marketplace. There, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. That must be the Evergreen Mountains; and beyond them, the Southern Sea. And beyond //that//, Ilmenoth.
“Okay. Thanks,” you tell her, even though you don’t like her at all, and you leave before she could say anything back. You set off towards the Evergreen Mountains; your journey is finally beginning.
[[Continue->A12]]The bowseller’s eyes narrow. She squints at you suspiciously for a while, then declares, “I don’t believe you, but I couldn’t care less. From what I’ve heard, it’s across the Evergreen Mountains and over the Southern Sea. The Evergreen Mountains supposedly lie at the end of the long, long road that begins at the edge of the marketplace. But that’s just what I’ve heard.” She leans over the ledge of her stand and points at the farthest end of the marketplace. There, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. That must be the Evergreen Mountains; and beyond them, the Southern Sea. And beyond //that//, Ilmenoth.
“Okay. Thanks,” you tell her, even though you don’t like her at all, and you leave before she could say anything back. You set off towards the Evergreen Mountains; your journey is finally beginning.
[[Continue->A12]]The bowseller’s eyes narrow. She squints at you suspiciously for a while, then declares, “That’s dumb and a lie, but I couldn’t care less. From what I’ve heard, it’s across the Evergreen Mountains and over the Southern Sea. The Evergreen Mountains supposedly lie at the end of the long, long road that begins at the edge of the marketplace. But that’s just what I’ve heard.” She leans over the ledge of her stand and points at the farthest end of the marketplace. There, over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. That must be the Evergreen Mountains; and beyond them, the Southern Sea. And beyond //that//, Ilmenoth.
“Okay. Thanks,” you tell her, even though you don’t like her at all, and you leave before she could say anything back. You set off towards the Evergreen Mountains; your journey is finally beginning.
[[Continue->A12]]You hurry through the busy marketplace, chewing on your lip from bottled up anticipation. As you weave through the people walking from stand to stand, place to place, you look over the roofs of buildings and the canopies of tall trees, and in the foggy morning light, you can see a great mountain range, green with trees and shrouded in fog in the distance. Though they seem many miles away, they feel as if they are looming over Cherry Nook like giant green goliaths. To you, those mountains are both unnerving and emboldening.
According to the rumors heard by the bowseller, beyond the Evergreen Mountains is the Southern Sea, and beyond that, Ilmenoth’s palace. This viridian giant, and a sea, stand between you and vengeance. When you realize this, the mountains seem a lot smaller, a lot easier to climb.
You don’t even realize when you’ve reached the end of the marketplace, which you didn’t even know ended at all. You take in your surroundings as you come to a stop under a tree, its thin, sparse leaves throwing dappled shade upon your skin. The once packed marketplace has become more spread out, and the path dividing the two sides of it has grown wider; and as the marketplace comes to an end, the path stretches forward. In the place of stands are trees, shading the great path that extends seemingly into forever before you. With the shale and red clay roofs out of the way, you are presented the true majesty of the Evergreen Mountains. The nearest mountain seems to jut out of the earth and into the sky—in fact, the pale blue sky seems to dip into the dark green peak, as if bending down from the heavens to reach it.
If the bowseller’s hunch is right—and it’d better be—then the path to justice for your father’s death lies just over this mountain. With a deep breath and a narrowing of your eyes, you set forth on the long long road leading from Cherry Nook and to the foot of the Evergreen Mountains.
[[Continue->A13]]Turner angles his head towards you, his smile apologetic. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Stonewood is a town in the southern regions, we...promised them some work.” This sounds quite shady to you, so you keep looking at him until he talks again. “They’ve been having trouble with bandits, and they hired us to help get rid of them, that’s all. No big deal.”
You gasp, pointing at him, and Turner leans backwards dramatically to avoid getting poked by your finger. “You’re mercenaries?” Ady suddenly clasps her hand over your mouth, pulling your head against her chest, and you struggle and claw at her until Blake and Turner pull you free.
“Calm down, Ady, calm down. The kid’s gonna think we’re serial killers or something,” Turner warns. You frankly already think Ady’s a serial killer, so you could care less what she does. “Yeah, we’re mercenaries, but don’t go yelling that to everyone. We’ll help you to Ilmenoth first, and then we’ll be on our way.”
“For a price,” Ady grunts, being physically restrained by Blake. You barely had enough to buy your apple from the fruit seller, so you aren’t sure if you can pay the Greenbacks for guiding you to Ilmenoth’s palace.
Turner shakes his head, much to your relief. “No, not for a price. Why can’t we do a good deed once in a while?”
“Good deeds don’t fill the belly,” Blake points out over Ady’s head, and both Ady and Turner nod a bit. You nod too, because the guy’s right. You decide that if you can scrounge up enough money, you’ll pay them a bit for their help.
[[Continue->A2]]Ady glares at you over Turner’s shoulder. “Yeah. We don’t know a thing about you. Why should we even bother going out of our way to do you a favor? What do we get in return?” She has a point. You ought to pay them or something for helping you out.
“Maybe I’ll pay you guys after you help me,” you venture, and Turner and Blake nod and shrug, thanking you, but Ady huffs and spins around, folding her arms with her back to you. You decide to pay her extra so she doesn’t come and kill you in your sleep after your journey’s over.
[[Continue->A2]]You can tell saying that was stupid when all three Greenbacks turn to look at you, awestruck. “...No,” Ady snarls. “We’re not.”
“Okay, don’t go ballistic on the poor kid,” Turner chuckled. “Yeah, we don’t usually go around helping people out for free. If anything, we’d ask for some cash, but today’s a special occasion. We’ll help you out free of charge, yeah?”
You nod and thank him, and hope to scrounge up enough money to pay them at the end of your journey together. You decide to pay Ady extra so she doesn’t come and kill you in your sleep after you return to Cherry Nook.
[[Continue->A2]]The Greenbacks lead you through the busy marketplace, and the farther you go, the sparser the stands get. The once packed marketplace becomes more spread out, and the path dividing the two sides of it grows wider; eventually, it stretches on forward while the marketplace comes to an end. In the place of stands are trees, shading the great path that extends seemingly into forever before you. With the shale and red clay roofs out of the way, you are presented the true majesty of the distant Evergreen Mountains: over a sea of trees, the great mountain range juts out of the earth and into the sky. In fact, the pale blue sky seems to dip into the dark green peaks, as if bending down from the heavens to reach them. The path you and the Greenbacks stand at the mouth of now leads you to the mountains, and over them.
“Takes my breath away every time I see it,” Turner murmurs next to you, his dark eyes ruminative as he looks ahead to the Evergreen Mountains. You glance up at him, and all his uncharacteristic thoughtfulness vanishes when he winks down at you, patting your back with a sigh. “Come on, kid. Let’s get going.”
[[Continue->A3]]The mountains seem impossibly large at the foot of it; you feel like you’re going to break your neck if you try and look up any longer. The Greenbacks set down their packs and dig through them as they sit on a boulder on the side of the path, and you join them, fishing through your pockets for your apple.
“Thanks for taking me here, guys,” you say, and Turner tells you it’s no problem, offering you half a sandwich of some sorts. “Oh—thanks.”
“Ah ah ah,” Turner smirks, drawing the sandwich back just as you’re about to take it. “Trade. Give me something of yours.” You glance up at Ady and Blake, who are eating sandwiches of their own and watching your every move. You chew your lip, thumbing the apple you had gone through so much trouble to buy. Not too much trouble, actually, when you think about it again, but it feels like a lot when you have to give it away.
“Um...do any of you guys have a knife?”
Ady has one, which you honestly aren’t too surprised about. You take it with a quiet “thanks” and sit down at the foot of the Greenbacks’ boulder, beginning to cut up your apple into quarters. It’s crisp and smells great while you cut it, and you realize just how hungry you really are.
“Is a quarter of an apple good for half of a sandwich?” you ask, holding one of the slices up so Turner could inspect it. The adventurer narrowed his eyes, humming thoughtfully, and you awkwardly hold it upside down when the juices start trickling down your elbow.
“Hmm...no. Quarter of a sandwich. So you get three quarters of a sandwich and an apple slice, and so do we.” You hate math, so you agree since it seems fair. You pass a slice of your apple to Turner, Ady, and Blake, and they each give you a triangular quarter of their sandwiches. Turner’s sandwich has ham and lettuce, Ady’s has turkey and lettuce, and Blake’s has chicken and lettuce. You hate lettuce, but you aren’t going to tell them that. The apple you bought tastes sweet—way sweeter than any other apple you’ve ever had, ever.
“So,” Ady says, taking a bite out of her apple slice, “Spill it. What’s your deal with Ilmenoth?” Turner glances sideways at her briefly before returning his attention to his sandwich. Blake seems to be enjoying his slice of apple on the other side of the boulder. You don’t really want to tell them your whole story; you thought the lame excuse you’d given them in the marketplace was enough.
Before you can make something lamer up, Turner sighs, “It doesn’t matter, Ady. We’ve done what we were asked.” He stuffs his apple slice into his mouth, packing up his things. “Uell, you’re on your own ‘um now on. We ot blaces to be, too.” It upsets you when you remember they’ve got other things to do, and that you’ll be alone from now on. You dig through your pockets and find six silver coins and one gold coin, and you fish them out, handing them to Turner.
“Here. Thanks for your help.” Turner takes the money and drops it into his pocket while he shrugs on his pack, then flinches and takes the coins back out.
“Whoa, whoa! You don’t have to pay us, kid,” he chuckles, giving you the coins again. “For real.” Blake nods in agreement, and Ady looks a little too long at the money for her to be in agreement.
Turner drops the coins back into your hands, and you grab his wrist and put them back in his palm. “Trade,” you venture, and Turner grins, raising an eyebrow. “You take this money, and I get something of yours in return.”
“...Fast learner,” Blake muses, and Turner chuckles and takes off his pack again, rummaging through it. He finds a slim leather quiver and produces a sleek black arrow. Its tip looks sharper than a thorn, and its shaft is sturdy and smooth as he places it in your hands.
“Ilmenoth’s palace is across the Southern Sea, once you’ve crossed the Evergreen Mountains,” Turner explains, poking the arrow you now hold. “This’ll come in handy.” You don’t know why you would ever need an arrow to cross a sea, but it doesn’t matter. It’s one of the most beautiful arrows you’ve ever seen; it almost brings tears to your eyes. You whip your head up to thank the Greenbacks, but you find that words aren’t coming out of your mouth.
All that you manage to say is, “...Thanks. Really.”
Turner nods, patting your shoulder, and you shake hands with Blake and exchange a nod with Ady. “Don’t forget us, yeah? We’ll meet again, I’m sure.” Turner winks at you, flashing you his crooked grin, and he, Ady, and Blake turn away from the Evergreen Mountains and back to the long road leading from Cherry Nook. You realize now when they’re gone, surrounded by the wilderness and nothing else, how far away from home you truly are.
You sigh and tuck the black arrow into your cloak, looking up at the giant green mountain before you. The path splits in two before you: one leading away from the Evergreen Mountains, and one right up it. Your journey has truly begun now.
[[Go.->A4]]As you travel along the path up the tallest mountain, insects buzzing and dense foliage rustling around you, your head begins to spin. You haven’t been exerting yourself too much, and you just had a good meal; you wonder why you’re feeling so nauseous as you clamber over a rock and jump over a trickling mountain creek.
a) [[Maybe it’s the altitude.->A4a]]
b) [[Maybe there was too much sugar in that apple.->A4b]]
c) [[This doesn’t feel right.->A4c]]You decide the mountain’s height is to blame for your discomfort. Though you haven’t been climbing for too long, you haven’t climbed very high at all for a while. Your body’s probably just not used to it or something. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts.
[[Continue->A4c]]You decide the hearty meal you had with the Greenbacks is probably not agreeing with your stomach. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts.
[[Continue->A4c]]Something is amiss. This doesn’t feel like a normal headache or stomach trouble. The dull pain feels like it’s slowly traveling through your body, making you numb. You clutch your chest as you slide over a fallen log, the buzzing of cicadas making your head pulse. Your legs feel heavier and heavier, and soon, when you come to a large tree, you fall to your knees and slump over between two big roots to take a rest. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel hot and cold at the same time. You’re having trouble staying conscious, and when you close your eyes for just a little to take a quick nap, you black out instantly.
When you wake up, you aren’t under that big tree anymore. You’re someplace dark and chilly, a thin blanket thrown over you. There’s a wet rag on your forehead, and your head’s resting on your folded cloak. You can feel the shaft of Turner’s black arrow brushing against your neck where it’s hidden in one of your pockets. The suffocating, painful feeling is gone from your body, and you get up in a seated position, looking around.
The dark dwelling you’re laying in is small and fragrant, smelling of various herbs and old books. There is a crammed bookshelf to your left, and what looks like some kind of magic circle made of sand on your right. In front of you is a cloaked figure with their back turned, and next to them on a perch, an old raven with milky eyes.
“Waked!” the raven crows, and you flinch, scrambling to pull the covers over your head. Before you can, the cloaked figure turns, and piercing green eyes gaze into your soul, your body, everywhere. You can pretty much feel those eyes in your bone marrows, and the sockets of your knees.
“Well,” the cloaked figure muses, pulling down their hood, and you see an elven woman standing before you, dark hair pooling in the folds of her hood like a dark pond. Her piercing yellow eyes narrow when they meet your gaze. “Hello there.”
a) Ask, [[“Who are you?”->A4caa]]
b) Ask, [[“Where am I?”->A4cab]]
c) Ask, [[“Did you save me?”->A4cac]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “I saved your life. That’s all you need to know. You ought to thank me.” You thank her feebly, crossing your legs under your blanket and pulling your father’s cloak to your chest.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you.”
You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was //poison//. Was it the apple? “Wait—my friends—”
“Sad,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“Sad? What do you mean, ‘sad?’” you demand, and the woman steps to the side, revealing a clear, crystal orb that seems to glow in the darkness. You peer into it, and to your horror, you see the Greenbacks as if you’re right there with them. Turner, Ady, and Blake are lying still on the path back to Cherry Nook, eyes glazed and open in death. The apple killed them. The poison killed them.
//You// killed them.
[[Continue->A5]]The woman raises an eyebrow, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Not even a thank you, hmm?” She continues before you can splutter out a meager “thanks.” “In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I reached you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was //poison//. Was it the apple? “Wait—my friends—”
“Sad,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“Sad? What do you mean, ‘sad?’” you demand, and the woman steps to the side, revealing a clear, crystal orb that seems to glow in the darkness. You peer into it, and to your horror, you see the Greenbacks as if you’re right there with them. Turner, Ady, and Blake are lying still on the path back to Cherry Nook, eyes glazed and open in death. The apple killed them. The poison killed them.
//You// killed them.
[[Continue->A5]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Yes. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.” You mumble out a meager thanks, looking around the dark room. The walls don’t have corners; they seem to cave in on you, like the ground has swallowed both you and this woman up.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was //poison//. Was it the apple? “Wait—my friends—”
“Sad,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“Sad? What do you mean, ‘sad?’” you demand, and the woman steps to the side, revealing a clear, crystal orb that seems to glow in the darkness. You peer into it, and to your horror, you see the Greenbacks as if you’re right there with them. Turner, Ady, and Blake are lying still on the path back to Cherry Nook, eyes glazed and open in death. The apple killed them. The poison killed them.
//You// killed them.
[[Continue->A5]]The truth of what happened comes washing over you like a cold current. If you hadn’t given them that apple, they wouldn’t be dead. If you hadn’t bought that apple, they wouldn’t be dead. They were good people, good friends, and they’re gone because of you.
There’s a hollow feeling in your chest, and you hate it. Your eyes sting with tears, and a lump forms in your throat. Every instinct in your body tells you to swallow it down; you won’t cry. Crying makes you weak, and you aren’t weak. Are you?
“This type of poison is uncurable, unless you have powerful magic at your disposal as I do,” the elven woman tells you calmly. “I have not encountered it for a long time.”
“You’ve seen it before?” you ask hoarsely, struggling to keep your voice level.
“Yes. It was developed by an old friend of mine.” The woman—the witch—stroked the head of her milky-eyed raven. “Ilmenoth was his name.”
a) Say, [[“How do you know him?”->A5a]]
b) Say, [[“You’re an ally of Ilmenoth?”->A5b]]The witch closes her yellow eyes, drawing a dark navy cloth solemnly over her crystal ball. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the cloth-covered crystal ball, your eyes stinging as the shroud obscures the image of the Greenbacks. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud, but that’s not what matters to you. He failed to kill you, but he succeeded in killing your friends. He’s crossed the line much too far now.
[[Continue->A6]]The witch glares at you, narrowing her yellow eyes when you grab the sheath of your father’s sword and draw out his blade, pointing it towards her in preparation for combat. You don’t know a thing about magic, but if you can chop her head off before she can do anything, you reckon you can stand a chance against her. After all, if this lady’s a friend of Ilmenoth, not standing a chance is not an option.
“Calm yourself, young one. I was his friend, a long time ago,” the witch snaps, and you hesitate before sheathing your blade slowly. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the cloth-covered crystal ball, your eyes stinging as the shroud obscures the image of the Greenbacks. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud, but that’s not what matters to you. He failed to kill you, but he succeeded in killing your friends. He’s crossed the line much too far now.
[[Continue->A6]]You grab the witch’s hand earnestly, and she flinches, yanking it immediately out of your grasp with an offended look. “Tell me how to get to his palace,” you plead. “I need to avenge my friends, and my father.” The witch raises an eyebrow in interest, and her raven flaps onto her shoulder, cocking its head to the side as if in interest, too.
“Your father, hmm? Did he once try to defeat Ilmenoth himself?” You nod, clenching your fists together at your sides. “Did he fail?” You nod again. The witch places a hand on your shoulder, flashing you a keen, encouraging smile. She seems a little nicer after you’ve told her who you had lost to Ilmenoth. “Well, then. Your father and your friends deserve justice, and Ilmenoth deserves to fall. After all that he has done...dying by your blade is the only justice he can get now.”
You pack up your things, including a not-poisoned pear given to you by the witch, and she takes you through a long, black tunnel, leading to a dead end and a ladder. Far, far over your head, you see a speck of light. You must be in the heart of the Evergreen Mountains.
“Climb up and head forward along the path of dark gray stones. You will be faced with a great danger on the way, but I know you will be able to prevail,” the witch tells you, holding a flickering candle in the dark by her side. Its wavering flame barely illuminates the black tunnel, and you thank her for her help and her guidance. Her yellow eyes gleam with their own fire, perhaps fueled by her hatred of Ilmenoth, or something else. You begin to climb up the ladder to the surface, to find and slay Ilmenoth for all that he has done. Your father, and Turner and Ady and Blake, will be avenged tonight when you slit the dark mage’s throat.
Halfway up, over the creaking of the wooden ladder and your own breaths, you cannot hear the witch when she whispers, “Farewell, Vhan Irvin.”
[[Continue->A17]]You finally reach the top of the ladder, climbing out of the hole you’d been in and stepping on wet soil. It’s dark and squishes under your boot, and when you look around in the bright daylight, a drop of water lands on your head from above. You’re under a jagged, mossy stone alcove, with fresh spring water splashing down a few feet away in the setting sun’s light. You realize how thirsty you are, and you hurry over to the tiny waterfall and open your mouth, stopping underneath it to drink.
The water splashes all over your face and gets into your eyes and your windpipe. You choke and cough and hack and realize barely any of it went where it was supposed to. When you can breathe and see again, you drink more carefully this time, and set out along the gray stone path the elven witch had told you to follow. Your hair and your cloak are a bit soggy, and you shiver in the cool shade of the giant evergreen trees as you walk. You’ll warm up in a bit, though. Hopefully.
As you continue on your way, picking along the loose stone trail, you realize with a sense of dread that the sun’s setting, and you’re going to be pretty cold for a while. Not only that, but the forest begins to darken: the shadows of the towering pines grow longer, and you find yourself hurrying through them as if they’ll swallow you up if you dwell in their darkness for too long. The last of the setting sun’s merciful rays become flickering spots of light between the thick foliage, like stars in a night sky, before they disappear altogether.
Shivering, you take out your father’s sword in the darkness, and you can see the very faint reflection of the moon in the silver blade. You’ll use this as your one point of light as you follow the witch’s path. The only thing guiding you is the trembling moon on your blade and the clatter of rocks as you walk along them. Crickets and cicadas are buzzing in the trees, and a nightingale is singing somewhere in the canopy, so at least you aren’t entirely alone.
You feel a tickle in your nose, and you gasp and sneeze, stumbling from the force of it. Hopefully your soggy clothes and the night chill won’t give you a cold. You can hear your //achoo! achoo! achoo!// reverberating in the mountains, like a dumb gong. And then, somewhere in the trees in front of you, you hear a low, irritated growl.
a) [[Run in the opposite direction, back to the witch’s cavern for safety.->A17a]]
b) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A17b]]
c) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A17c]]You decide to run back to the witch’s cavern, turning around. Then, you stop yourself, thinking. For real? You aren’t a coward, are you? You turn back around, steeling yourself and taking a deep breath. If you’re going to avenge your father and the Greenbacks, you shouldn’t run from any danger no matter how great.
a) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A17b]]
b) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A17c]]Still trembling from the cold, you pull a dry corner of your father’s cloak over your nose to keep your face warm as you slowly walk forward, holding his sword out in front of you. The growl didn’t sound like a wolf or a mountain lion or something, or anything you’ve ever heard, really. It was low and gutteral, like it was rumbling in the throat of something huge and very, very mad. You tiptoe along the stone path, your heart pounding so hard you think you’re going to pass out. You’re still hungry, too, so that doesn’t help the situation at all.
The darkness is unnerving, and you can hear something breathing and snorting. The sound gets louder and louder, and then there’s the stench of death, of a recent meal. And then, the tip of your sword skids against a wall of tough skin, blocking your only way to Ilmenoth’s palace. Your heart stops, and you look up. And two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, and look back down.
An orc.
a) [[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A17baa]]
b) [[Panic.->A17bab]]Swallowing your fear (and some phlegm), you let out a war cry that pierces the night and charge forward, your blade at the ready. The rocks clatter under your boots as you race towards the sound, and before you can even realize what you’ve done, two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, glaring—very much vexed—down at you.
An orc.
There’s a whoosh somewhere above you, and your sword doesn’t have a chance to swing when what feels like ten tons of weight comes crashing down on you. Your face is crushed against the jagged stones you’d been running on moments before, and there’s a snap and a series of unpleasant crunches in your chest. Those were your spine and ribs under the giant orc’s fist, but worry not, you didn’t feel any of it.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A17]]
[[Start all over again.->A17ca]]Stumbling backwards as the huge orc gets slowly to its feet, you chew your lip and try to figure out how in the world you’re going to make it onto the other side. The elven witch told you to follow the gray stone path; maybe there’s another route somewhere, but it’s way too dark to go looking for it now. You’d rather make it to the Southern Sea missing a few fingers than arrive in a whole other country unscathed.
The orc is putrid and giant, you know this. But you can barely see the foul thing in the darkness, and the light of the moon on the edge of your blade can only do so much. If you can locate its vitals or something, this wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Unfortunately, you can’t. You have to think of something else, fast.
a) [[Hide in a tree and wait it out.->A17baaaa]]
b) [[Crawl underneath it while it’s standing.->A17baaab]]
c) [[Just climb over it.->A17baaac]]You hyperventilate for a couple seconds, your father’s sword trembling in your hands, and then you realize that’s not going to do you any good. You have to do //something//—you can’t just give up here, not when you’ve made it this far.
[[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A17baa]]You rush off the path, not bothering to think of what’ll happen if you don’t find it again, and you find a big tree with rough bark, good for climbing. You sheath your father’s sword and scrabble up onto a low branch, clinging to it as you listen to the orc’s footsteps lumbering towards you. Your heart is racing as you hug yourself against the branch, and you can feel it throbbing against the bark.
Your heart nearly explodes out of your chest when the orc stops in front of the tree you’re hiding in, and its stink makes your eyes water. It’s standing right in front of you. Its orange eyes stare just a hair past you. It can’t see you, but it can smell you.
When its eyes lower at last, you let out a shuddering breath of relief. You’re safe.
And then, the whole branch starts shuddering. You cling onto it for dear life when the orc tears the entire tree out of the ground, and with an irritated, slobbery snarl, sends it—and you—flying.
You know better than to scream, so you just say random curse words as the tree makes a magnificent arc in the air like a javelin, then begins barreling back down towards the ground. You say your prayers, make peace with the spirits, and with a great woody, rocky explosion, the tree crashes down onto...the stone path.
You let go of the branch and brace yourself with your arms a heartbeat before impact, and the stones scrape your shoulders and legs as you skid across them, alive. Alive! The tree is demolished, but you’re in one piece. And to your great delight, you haven’t just gotten past the orc. The orc has thrown you farther down the path through the Evergreen Mountains. You almost want to thank the vile thing as you brush the splinters and dust off yourself, stumbling to your feet. You made it.
[[Continue->A20]]You shakily sheath your father’s sword, taking a few steps back as the orc’s eyes get higher and higher in the black sky. It should be standing by now. This is a pretty risky move, but it’s the best idea you could come up with. When the orc takes a big, lumbering step forward, you dart blindly towards it, scrunching your face up and diving hopefully under the beast’s legs. You don’t feel anything but air, and then the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path scraping your arms and legs when you flop onto them. The orc howls angrily, stomping around you, and you scramble to your feet, wincing at the cuts that had torn through your clothes and into your skin, running as fast as you can away.
The orc’s furious snarls and growls grow quieter and quieter behind you, and you know you’ve lost the beast. You slow down to a jog, and then slump onto the ground to catch your breath. You’re still on the stone path, still in one piece. You made it.
[[Continue->A20]]To hell with being careful, that’s going to take you too long. You grip the hilt of your father’s blade, holding it over your head, and with a grunt of effort, plunge it with just enough force into the orc to penetrate its tough skin. The beast roars in pain, and you leap up, using the sword as leverage, to grab onto what must be the orc’s...beard? The orc struggles to its feet, and its blood smells just as disgusting as the rest of it does as you pull your father’s sword out of the great beast and plunge it higher up on the orc’s huge body again.
The orc sways and yawps, and your heart nearly stops when a big thumb the size of a ham grazes your back. You flinch when the orc strikes, and misses—it hits itself in the stomach, resulting in a big “urgh” that makes you kind of feel bad. Then, the most brilliant idea you’ve probably every thought of, or anyone has ever thought of for that matter, comes to your head.
You have to get to //its// head.
You clamber precariously and quickly up the giant orc, using your father’s sword as some kind of climbing pick, and you see its orange eyes in your reach, spinning from the orc’s nausea of having gut-punched itself. With a cry of determination, you sheath your father’s sword and leap onto the orc’s face, grabbing onto its meaty ears and clinging on desperately when the monster shakes its head. There’s a pause, and you jump into the air just as the orc’s fist slams into its own face, and the great beast collapses onto the path with a pitiful howl of pain. You land clumsily on the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path, and they scrape your arms and legs when you flop onto them. You scrabble to your feet, gasping for breath, adrenaline threatening to make your heart stop if you get any more exhilarated. The orc is silent, and you’re on the other side. You made it.
[[Continue->A20]]You limp as silently and carefully as you can the rest of the way along the gray stone path, your hand clamped over your mouth so your teeth aren’t chattering too loudly. Some of the cuts you’ve gotten are bleeding a little, so you dry them the best you can with your father’s cloak so you don’t attract any big predators or anything.
After what must have been hours of just walking, you stumble into a tree growing very close to the gray stone path. You pat around the base of it in the dark, finding a good space between two gnarled roots, and slump down, wrapping yourself up warmly in your father’s cloak and dozing off. Hopefully, you might be able to catch a couple z’s and start the next day with some energy. The Greenbacks’ sandwiches and that accursed apple didn’t do much to fill you up, so you decide to eat the witch’s pear in the morning.
The thought of your friends makes your stomach twist with grief, and you bury your face in your father’s old cloak, tucking your legs against your chest. The smooth bark of the tree envelops you as you lay against it, holding you, and a small, shameful part of you wishes it were him. Or them. Or anyone. It’s lonely work, being a hero.
You wake up in a very unfamiliar place. You haven’t seen this part of the Evergreen Mountains before in the daylight, so of course it’s unfamiliar. The gray stone path is glistening with dew, as is the undergrowth that flanks it on both sides. The sky is a misty morning gray between the high canopies, and the trees are greener than you remember them ever being. You rub the sleep from your eyes, and the residue left by tears you don’t remember shedding, and continue on the gray stone path as you eat the pear given to you by the elven witch.
There’s a slight inclination to the path as you walk, and before you know it, it’s flattened out and the evergreen trees have parted slightly, making way for a clear blue sky overhead. You toss the core of your pear into the undergrowth and break into a run, determined to get off this mountain as fast as you can. The gray stone path grows thinner, each stone spaced out sparser, until the earth seems to absorb them and your path is replaced by dirt. You look up, and your eyes widen at the beautiful sight laid out before you.
The dirt path you stand at the mouth of leads into a small village, like a littler replica of Cherry Nook. Wood and stone houses are situated in a valley between two of the Evergreen Mountains—the one you just climbed over, and another in the vast range—with children running to and fro and their mothers speaking and pumping water from an old stone well in the center of the village. In the distance over the stone roofs of the houses, the green morphs into an off-white expanse, and then into a deep, unending blue. It blends right into the sky, blurring the horizon, as if the world ends right before you. The Southern Sea.
[[Continue->A21]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A17c]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]An old man with an empty fishing net is passing by when you enter the seaside village, and before you have a chance to greet him, he sees you and cries out, “By the tides, you look like you just lost a fight with a thorn bush! What’s happened to you, child?”
a) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A21a]]
b) Answer, [[“I almost became orc food last night.”->A21b]]
c) Answer, [[“Do you have bandages?”->A21c]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Hm...I’ll take your word for it, I s’pose. What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “That’s...a long story, too. But I have to go. Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Orc food? Have you come from the Evergreen Mountains? I heard there was a troublesome orc there many years ago.”
“Yessir.”
“Well, you must be mighty strong, to have gotten past it!” You chuckle and scratch your head embarrasedly at the old man’s praise. “What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “Well, I bet you can do it, given you’ve overcome the orc,” he mutters. You blink in confusion.
“Do what?”
The old man laughed nervously. “Well, the Southern Sea is a bit dangerous to sail on. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve gotten past an orc before! Slaying this big snake will be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, frowning when you dodge his question. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Sure I do, but what’s happened to you? What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man, dragging his fishing net behind him, leads you through the village and towards the Southern Sea. As you look around, you start to notice how empty it feels: though the occasional person pops out of a doorway to look at you, they disappear almost immediately after. The sea serpent had probably scared them all into hiding indoors; this just can’t do. You have to help them.
“How long has the serpent been trapped here?” you ask, grimacing when the ground becomes sandy under your boots. It’s going to get everywhere, and you know it.
“About ten days,” the old man replies. You walk with him past the last houses and down to a rocky, sandy cliffside, where you can see some other people standing and looking over the edge. “We’ve had enough to feed our families, but our stores are running low. If you can get rid of the old beast, we’d be forever in your debt.”
You look around over the cliff into the blue inlet, seeing a smaller, farther settlement on the other side. Connecting it to this village is what looks like a giant sandbar, a pale line forming a circle with the shore below the cliff. And in this blue circle...is nothing at all. It’s just blue, with calm, low morning tides lapping at the sand and some faint pink shapes made of coral.
“Where’s the sea serpent?” You point at the water, glancing at the old man standing next to you. “Wasn’t it just here or something—” Suddenly, there’s a flash of red in the blue reef, and then a surge of movement all around you; people scatter, and in a great torrent of water, a giant beast lunges upwards out of the sea, its sleek scales the exact same shade of blue as the water. Its scarlet fins scatter droplets on the shores as it shrieks at you and the villagefolk, its four opaline eyes glistening with seawater and probably hatred. Your heart sinks as it dives back into its pocket of reef, its red fins blending into the coral under the surface. All is silent again.
“...There it is,” the old man says a few feet behind you. You grip the hilt of your father’s sword tightly, gulping. How in the world are you going to get past that thing, or even slay it?
“It’s trapped by the sandbar, which prevents it from swimming out into the open sea,” a young woman explains shakily on your other side. “That reef is where we do our fishing. If we don’t get the serpent out somehow, we’ll starve!” Just as she says this, you see the distant glint of a trout’s silver side in the water. Then, the serpent’s red fins appear again as the giant beast dives for its prey—the villagers’ prey—chasing it in and out of the loops of its own serpentine body until the silver disappears. You know that if this keeps up, both the villagers and the serpent will starve.
You fold your arms, chewing on a knuckle uneasily as the old man laments, “What’s to be done? What can we do to feed our families again?
a) [[Leap off the cliff and stab your father’s sword into the serpent’s body.->A250a]]
b) [[Rally the strongest of the villagers and attack all at once.->A250b]]
c) [[Wait, and observe its movements some more.->A250c]]The mountains seem impossibly large at the foot of it; you feel like you’re going to break your neck if you try and look up any longer. Before you start climbing it, your stomach growls to remind you of how disgracefully hungry it is. And before you can muster up some strength to push through, a terrible ache shudders through your body. Defeated, you slump onto a boulder on the side of the path, and fish through your pockets for your apple. It isn’t much, but it’ll be enough to stave your hunger off for now. Besides, there are bound to be some coastal towns by the Southern Sea that you can find some grub at. And since you only spent money on this apple of yours, you’re free to splurge a little, and maybe nag some weaponry while you’re there.
You take out your apple and rub it on your cloak, just in case it’s dirty. When you’re satisfied it’s safe to eat, you take a generous bite out of it, some juice trickling down your chin. It’s sweet—//really// sweet. At least your one purchase wasn’t in vain. You take another, smaller bite, and tuck the apple into your cloak to save the rest so you can eat on the way. You look up at the giant green mountain before you; the path splits in two before you: one leading away from the Evergreen Mountains, and one right up it. Your journey has truly begun now.
[[Go.->A9]]As you travel along the path up the tallest mountain, insects buzzing and dense foliage rustling around you, your head begins to spin. You haven’t been exerting yourself too much, and you just got a good energy boost a couple minutes ago; you wonder why you’re feeling so nauseous as you clamber over a rock and jump over a trickling mountain creek.
a) [[Maybe it’s the altitude.->A9a]]
b) [[Maybe there was too much sugar in that apple.->A9b]]
c) [[This doesn’t feel right.->A9c]]You decide the mountain’s height is to blame for your discomfort. Though you haven’t been climbing for too long, you haven’t climbed very high at all for a while. Your body’s probably just not used to it or something. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts.
[[Continue->A9c]]You decide the apple’s unusual sweetness is probably not agreeing with your otherwise empty stomach. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts.
[[Continue->A9c]]Something is amiss. This doesn’t feel like a normal headache or stomach trouble. The dull pain feels like it’s slowly traveling through your body, making you numb. You clutch your chest as you slide over a fallen log, the buzzing of cicadas making your head pulse. Your legs feel heavier and heavier, and soon, when you come to a large tree, you fall to your knees and slump over between two big roots to take a rest. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel hot and cold at the same time. You’re having trouble staying conscious, and when you close your eyes for just a little to take a quick nap, you black out instantly.
When you wake up, you aren’t under that big tree anymore. You’re someplace dark and chilly, a thin blanket thrown over you. There’s a wet rag on your forehead, and your head’s resting on your folded cloak. The suffocating, painful feeling is gone from your body, and you get up in a seated position, looking around.
The dark dwelling you’re laying in is small and fragrant, smelling of various herbs and old books. There is a crammed bookshelf to your left, and what looks like some kind of magic circle made of sand on your right. In front of you is a cloaked figure with their back turned, and next to them on a perch, an old raven with milky eyes.
“Waked!” the raven crows, and you flinch, scrambling to pull the covers over your head. Before you can, the cloaked figure turns, and piercing green eyes gaze into your soul, your body, everywhere. You can pretty much feel those eyes in your bone marrows, and the sockets of your knees.
“Well,” the cloaked figure muses, pulling down their hood, and you see an elven woman standing before you, dark hair pooling in the folds of her hood like a dark pond. Her piercing yellow eyes narrow when they meet your gaze. “Hello there.”
a) Ask, [[“Who are you?”->A9caa]]
b) Ask, [[“Where am I?”->A9cab]]
c) Ask, [[“Did you save me?”->A9cac]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “I saved your life. That’s all you need to know. You ought to thank me.” You thank her feebly, crossing your legs under your blanket and pulling your father’s cloak to your chest.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you.”
You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A10]]The woman raises an eyebrow, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Not even a thank you, hmm?” She continues before you can splutter out a meager “thanks.” “In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I reached you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A10]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Yes. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.” You mumble out a meager thanks, looking around the dark room. The walls don’t have corners; they seem to cave in on you, like the ground has swallowed both you and this woman up.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A10]]The truth of what happened comes washing over you like a cold current. If you hadn’t been saved by this witch lady, you’d be dead meat. Your father would be left unavenged, and you’d be left to rot in the wilderness of the Evergreen Mountains. All of this would’ve been for naught.
There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, and you hate it. You hate being helpless, and you were just on the brink of death, having to be saved by some stranger you barely know. Your eyes sting with humiliated tears, and a lump forms in your throat. Every instinct in your body tells you to swallow it down; you won’t cry. Crying makes you weak, and you aren’t weak. Are you?
“This type of poison is uncurable, unless you have powerful magic at your disposal as I do,” the elven woman tells you calmly. “I have not encountered it for a long time.”
“You’ve seen it before?” you ask hoarsely, struggling to keep your voice level.
“Yes. It was developed by an old friend of mine.” The woman—the witch—stroked the head of her milky-eyed raven. “Ilmenoth was his name.”
a) Say, [[“How do you know him?”->A10a]]
b) Say, [[“You’re an ally of Ilmenoth?”->A10b]]The witch closes her yellow eyes, drawing a dark navy cloth solemnly over her crystal ball. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the half-eaten apple in the witch’s hand, and you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud. First he took your father, and then, he tried to take you. He’s crossed the line now.
[[Continue->A11]]The witch glares at you, narrowing her yellow eyes when you grab the sheath of your father’s sword and draw out his blade, pointing it towards her in preparation for combat. You don’t know a thing about magic, but if you can chop her head off before she can do anything, you reckon you can stand a chance against her. After all, if this lady’s a friend of Ilmenoth, not standing a chance is not an option.
“Calm yourself, young one. I was his friend, a long time ago,” the witch snaps, and you hesitate before sheathing your blade slowly. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the half-eaten apple in the witch’s hand, and you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud. First he took your father, and then, he tried to take you. He’s crossed the line now.
[[Continue->A11]]You grab the witch’s hand earnestly, and she flinches, yanking it immediately out of your grasp with an offended look. “Tell me how to get to his palace,” you plead. “I need to make him pay for this, and avenge my father.” The witch raises an eyebrow in interest, and her raven flaps onto her shoulder, cocking its head to the side as if in interest, too.
“Your father, hmm? Did he once try to defeat Ilmenoth himself?” You nod, clenching your fists together at your sides. “Did he fail?” You nod again. The witch places a hand on your shoulder, flashing you a keen, encouraging smile. She seems a little nicer after you’ve told her you lost your father to Ilmenoth. “Well, then. You and your father deserve justice, and Ilmenoth deserves to fall. After all that he has done...dying by your blade is the only justice he can get now.”
You pack up your things, including a not-poisoned pear given to you by the witch, and she takes you through a long, black tunnel, leading to a dead end and a ladder. Far, far over your head, you see a speck of light. You must be in the heart of the Evergreen Mountains.
“Climb up and head forward along the path of dark gray stones. You will be faced with a great danger on the way, but I know you will be able to prevail,” the witch tells you, holding a flickering candle in the dark by her side. Its wavering flame barely illuminates the black tunnel, and you thank her for her help and her guidance. Her yellow eyes gleam with their own fire, perhaps fueled by her hatred of Ilmenoth, or something else. You begin to climb up the ladder to the surface, to find and slay Ilmenoth for all that he has done. Your father will be avenged tonight when you slit the dark mage’s throat.
Halfway up, over the creaking of the wooden ladder and your own breaths, you cannot hear the witch when she whispers, “Farewell, Vhan Irvin.”
[[Continue->A18]]You finally reach the top of the ladder, climbing out of the hole you’d been in and stepping on wet soil. It’s dark and squishes under your boot, and when you look around in the bright daylight, a drop of water lands on your head from above. You’re under a jagged, mossy stone alcove, with fresh spring water splashing down a few feet away in the setting sun’s light. You realize how thirsty you are, and you hurry over to the tiny waterfall and open your mouth, stopping underneath it to drink.
The water splashes all over your face and gets into your eyes and your windpipe. You choke and cough and hack and realize barely any of it went where it was supposed to. When you can breathe and see again, you drink more carefully this time, and set out along the gray stone path the elven witch had told you to follow. Your hair and your cloak are a bit soggy, and you shiver in the cool shade of the giant evergreen trees as you walk. You’ll warm up in a bit, though. Hopefully.
As you continue on your way, picking along the loose stone trail, you realize with a sense of dread that the sun’s setting, and you’re going to be pretty cold for a while. Not only that, but the forest is beginning to darken: the shadows of the towering pines grow longer, and you find yourself hurrying through them as if they’ll swallow you up if you dwell in their darkness for too long. The last of the setting sun’s merciful rays become flickering spots of light between the thick foliage, like stars in a night sky, before they disappear altogether.
Shivering, you take out your father’s sword in the darkness, and you can see the very faint reflection of the moon in the silver blade. You’ll use this as your one point of light as you follow the witch’s path. The only thing guiding you is the trembling moon on your blade and the clatter of rocks as you walk along them. Crickets and cicadas are buzzing in the trees, and a nightingale is singing somewhere in the canopy, so at least you aren’t entirely alone.
You feel a tickle in your nose, and you gasp and sneeze, stumbling from the force of it. Hopefully your soggy clothes and the night chill won’t give you a cold. You can hear your //achoo! achoo! achoo!// reverberating in the mountains, like a dumb gong. And then, somewhere in the trees in front of you, you hear a low, irritated growl.
a) [[Run in the opposite direction, back to the witch’s cavern for safety.->A18a]]
b) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A18b]]
c) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A18c]]You decide to run back to the witch’s cavern, turning around. Then, you stop yourself, thinking. For real? You aren’t a coward, are you? You turn back around, steeling yourself and taking a deep breath. If you’re going to avenge your father, you shouldn’t run from any danger no matter how great.
a) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A18b]]
b) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A18c]]Still trembling from the cold, you pull a dry corner of your father’s cloak over your nose to keep your face warm as you slowly walk forward, holding his sword out in front of you. The growl didn’t sound like a wolf or a mountain lion or something, or anything you’ve ever heard, really. It was low and guttural, like it was rumbling in the throat of something huge and very, very mad. You tiptoe along the stone path, your heart pounding so hard you think you’re going to pass out. You’re still hungry, too, so that doesn’t help the situation at all.
The darkness is unnerving, and you can hear something breathing and snorting. The sound gets louder and louder, and then there’s the stench of death, of a recent meal. And then, the tip of your sword skids against a wall of tough skin, blocking your only way to Ilmenoth’s palace. Your heart stops, and you look up. And two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, and look back down.
An orc.
a) [[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A18baa]]
b) [[Panic.->A18bab]]Swallowing your fear (and some phlegm), you let out a war cry that pierces the night and charge forward, your blade at the ready. The rocks clatter under your boots as you race towards the sound, and before you can even realize what you’ve done, two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, glaring—very much vexed—down at you.
An orc.
There’s a whoosh somewhere above you, and your sword doesn’t have a chance to swing when what feels like ten tons of weight comes crashing down on you. Your face is crushed against the jagged stones you’d been running on moments before, and there’s a snap and a series of unpleasant crunches in your chest. Those were your spine and ribs under the giant orc’s fist, but worry not, you didn’t feel any of it.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A18]]
[[Start all over again.->A18ca]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A18c]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]Stumbling backwards as the huge orc gets slowly to its feet, you chew your lip and try to figure out how in the world you’re going to make it onto the other side. The elven witch told you to follow the gray stone path; maybe there’s another route somewhere, but it’s way too dark to go looking for it now. You’d rather make it to the Southern Sea missing a few fingers than arrive in a whole other country unscathed.
The orc is putrid and giant, you know this. But you can barely see the foul thing in the darkness, and the light of the moon on the edge of your blade can only do so much. If you can locate its vitals or something, this wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Unfortunately, you can’t. You have to think of something else, fast.
a) [[Hide in a tree and wait it out.->A18baaaa]]
b) [[Crawl underneath it while it’s standing.->A18baaab]]
c) [[Just climb over it.->A18baaac]]You hyperventilate for a couple seconds, your father’s sword trembling in your hands, and then you realize that’s not going to do you any good. You have to do //something//—you can’t just give up here, not when you’ve made it this far.
[[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A18baa]]You rush off the path, not bothering to think of what’ll happen if you don’t find it again, and you find a big tree with rough bark, good for climbing. You sheath your father’s sword and scrabble up onto a low branch, clinging to it as you listen to the orc’s footsteps lumbering towards you. Your heart is racing as you hug yourself against the branch, and you can feel it throbbing against the bark.
Your heart nearly explodes out of your chest when the orc stops in front of the tree you’re hiding in, and its stink makes your eyes water. It’s standing right in front of you. Its orange eyes stare just a hair past you. It can’t see you, but it can smell you.
When its eyes lower at last, you let out a shuddering breath of relief. You’re safe.
And then, the whole branch starts shuddering. You cling onto it for dear life when the orc tears the entire tree out of the ground, and with an irritated, slobbery snarl, sends it—and you—flying.
You know better than to scream, so you just say random curse words as the tree makes a magnificent arc in the air like a javelin, then begins barreling back down towards the ground. You say your prayers, make peace with the spirits, and with a great woody, rocky explosion, the tree crashes down onto...the stone path.
You let go of the branch and brace yourself with your arms a heartbeat before impact, and the stones scrape your shoulders and legs as you skid across them, alive. Alive! The tree is demolished, but you’re in one piece. And to your great delight, you haven’t just gotten past the orc. The orc has thrown you farther down the path through the Evergreen Mountains. You almost want to thank the vile thing as you brush the splinters and dust off yourself, stumbling to your feet. You made it.
[[Continue->A22]]You shakily sheath your father’s sword, taking a few steps back as the orc’s eyes get higher and higher in the black sky. It should be standing by now. This is a pretty risky move, but it’s the best idea you could come up with. When the orc takes a big, lumbering step forward, you dart blindly towards it, scrunching your face up and diving hopefully under the beast’s legs. You don’t feel anything but air, and then the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path scraping your arms and legs when you flop onto them. The orc howls angrily, stomping around you, and you scramble to your feet, wincing at the cuts that have torn through your clothes and into your skin, running away as fast as you can.
The orc’s furious snarls and growls grow quieter and quieter behind you, and you know you’ve lost the beast. You slow down to a jog, and then slump onto the ground to catch your breath. You’re still on the stone path, still in one piece. You made it.
[[Continue->A22]]To hell with being careful, that’s going to take you too long. You grip the hilt of your father’s blade, holding it over your head, and with a grunt of effort, plunge it with just enough force into the orc to penetrate its tough skin. The beast roars in pain, and you leap up, using the sword as leverage, to grab onto what must be the orc’s...beard? The orc struggles to its feet, and its blood smells just as disgusting as the rest of it does as you pull your father’s sword out of the great beast and plunge it higher up on the orc’s huge body again.
The orc sways and yawps, and your heart nearly stops when a big thumb the size of a ham grazes your back. You flinch when the orc strikes, and misses—it hits itself in the stomach, resulting in a big “urgh” that makes you kind of feel bad. Then, the most brilliant idea you’ve probably every thought of, or anyone has ever thought of for that matter, comes to your head.
You have to get to //its// head.
You clamber precariously and quickly up the giant orc, using your father’s sword as some kind of climbing pick, and you see its orange eyes in your reach, spinning from the orc’s nausea of having gut-punched itself. With a cry of determination, you sheath your father’s sword and leap onto the orc’s face, grabbing onto its meaty ears and clinging on desperately when the monster shakes its head. There’s a pause, and you jump into the air just as the orc’s fist slams into its own face, and the great beast collapses onto the path with a pitiful howl of pain. You land clumsily on the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path, and they scrape your arms and legs when you flop onto them. You scrabble to your feet, gasping for breath, adrenaline threatening to make your heart stop if you get any more exhilarated. The orc is silent, and you’re on the other side. You made it.
[[Continue->A22]]You limp as silently and carefully as you can the rest of the way along the gray stone path, your hand clamped over your mouth so your teeth aren’t chattering too loudly. Some of the cuts you’ve gotten are bleeding a little, so you dry them the best you can with your father’s cloak so you don’t attract any big predators or anything.
After what must have been hours of just walking, you stumble into a tree growing very close to the gray stone path. You pat around the base of it in the dark, finding a good space between two gnarled roots, and slump down, wrapping yourself up warmly in your father’s cloak and dozing off. Hopefully, you might be able to catch a couple z’s and start the next day with some energy. That stupid apple did practically nothing to fill you up, and you’re honestly surprised you’re still conscious. You take out the pear the elven witch gave you and eat it before tossing the core into the undergrowth and passing out moments later.
You wake up in a very unfamiliar place. You haven’t seen this part of the Evergreen Mountains before in the daylight, so of course it’s unfamiliar. The gray stone path is glistening with dew, as is the undergrowth that flanks it on both sides. The sky is a misty morning gray between the high canopies, and the trees are greener than you remember them ever being. You rub the sleep from your eyes and continue on the gray stone path as the sun rises to the east.
There’s a slight inclination to the path as you walk, and before you know it, it’s flattened out and the evergreen trees have parted slightly, making way for a clear blue sky overhead. You break into a run, determined to get off this mountain as fast as you can. The gray stone path grows thinner, each stone spaced out sparser, until the earth seems to absorb them and your path is replaced by dirt. You look up, and your eyes widen at the beautiful sight laid out before you.
The dirt path you stand at the mouth of leads into a small village, like a littler replica of Cherry Nook. Wood and stone houses are situated in a valley between two of the Evergreen Mountains—the one you just climbed over, and another in the vast range—with children running to and fro and their mothers speaking and pumping water from an old stone well in the center of the village. In the distance over the stone roofs of the houses, the green morphs into an off-white expanse, and then into a deep, unending blue. It blends right into the sky, blurring the horizon, as if the world ends right before you. The Southern Sea.
[[Continue->A23]]There’s a small stand farther in the village, and you decide to go there to ask for questions. A lady is slouching behind it, fiddling with something in her hands. You stop by her stand, and she glances up at you, frowning. Beautiful wooden bows—longbows, crossbows, shortbows—and quivers and arrows hung around her, as if she were the subject of an exquisite painting. It looks just like the stand you saw at the marketplace in Cherry Nook. The bowseller’s icy blue eyes glare at you as she snaps, “What do you want? If you’re just going to stare, then leave.”
“Oh, I was—”
“You have to buy something if you want to talk to me,” the lady tells you, which you think is, frankly, stupid considering she was just talking to you before. You look around and find the cheapest thing she’s got for sale: a single black arrow, for two silver coins. With an annoyed sigh, you slap the money into her outstretched hand and ask for the arrow, which she gives you. You thank her halfheartedly and stuff the black arrow in your cloak. You hope you don’t trip and impale yourself on it; the tip is sharper than a thorn, the shaft sturdy and sleek. At least her wares are of good quality.
“So, what did you want?”
“I was gonna ask if you knew where we are. What’s this village called?”
“Oh. It’s called Seaside Town.”
You raise an eyebrow. “...Seaside Town? Actually?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. The founder wasn’t creative, I guess.” You thank the bowseller and head further into the village, looking around at the people you see as you walk. An old man with an empty fishing net is passing by when you almost bump into him, and before you have a chance to apologize, he sees you and cries out, “By the tides, you look like you just lost a fight with a thorn bush! What’s happened to you, child?”
a) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A23a]]
b) Answer, [[“I almost became orc food last night.”->A23b]]
c) Answer, [[“Do you have bandages?”->A23c]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Hm...I’ll take your word for it, I s’pose. What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “That’s...a long story, too. But I have to go. Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Orc food? Have you come from the Evergreen Mountains? I heard there was a troublesome orc there many years ago.”
“Yessir.”
“Well, you must be mighty strong, to have gotten past it!” You chuckle and scratch your head embarrassedly at the old man’s praise. “What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “Well, I bet you can do it, given you’ve overcome the orc,” he mutters. You blink in confusion.
“Do what?”
The old man laughed nervously. “Well, the Southern Sea is a bit dangerous to sail on. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s-,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve gotten past an orc before! Slaying this big snake will be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, frowning when you dodge his question. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Sure I do, but what’s happened to you? What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The mountains seem impossibly large at the foot of it; you feel like you’re going to break your neck if you try and look up any longer. Before you start climbing it, your stomach growls to remind you of how disgracefully hungry it is. And before you can muster up some strength to push through, a terrible ache shudders through your body. Defeated, you slump onto a boulder on the side of the path, and fish through your pockets for your apple. It isn’t much, but it’ll be enough to stave your hunger off for now. Besides, there are bound to be some coastal towns by the Southern Sea that you can find some grub at. Though you might have to be frugal, given that the bowseller made you buy her stupid arrow. Two silver coins was enough for a loaf of bread, not that that matters anymore.
You take out your apple and rub it on your cloak, just in case it’s dirty. When you’re satisfied it’s safe to eat, you take a generous bite out of it, some juice trickling down your chin. It’s sweet—//really// sweet. At least your one purchase wasn’t in vain. You take another, smaller bite, and tuck the apple into your cloak to save the rest so you can eat on the way. You look up at the giant green mountain before you; the path splits in two before you: one leading away from the Evergreen Mountains, and one right up it. Your journey has truly begun now.
[[Go.->A14]]As you travel along the path up the tallest mountain, insects buzzing and dense foliage rustling around you, your head begins to spin. You haven’t been exerting yourself too much, and you just got a good energy boost a couple minutes ago; you wonder why you’re feeling so nauseous as you clamber over a rock and jump over a trickling mountain creek.
a) [[Maybe it’s the altitude.->A14a]]
b) [[Maybe there was too much sugar in that apple.->A14b]]
c) [[This doesn’t feel right.->A14c]]You decide the mountain’s height is to blame for your discomfort. Though you haven’t been climbing for too long, you haven’t climbed very high at all for a while. Your body’s probably just not used to it or something. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts.
[[Continue->A14c]]You decide the apple’s unusual sweetness is probably not agreeing with your otherwise empty stomach. But as you continue scaling the mountain, you’re starting to have doubts
[[Continue->A14c]]Something is amiss. This doesn’t feel like a normal headache or stomach trouble. The dull pain feels like it’s slowly traveling through your body, making you numb. You clutch your chest as you slide over a fallen log, the buzzing of cicadas making your head pulse. Your legs feel heavier and heavier, and soon, when you come to a large tree, you fall to your knees and slump over between two big roots to take a rest. It’s getting hard to breathe, and you feel hot and cold at the same time. You’re having trouble staying conscious, and when you close your eyes for just a little to take a quick nap, you black out instantly.
When you wake up, you aren’t under that big tree anymore. You’re someplace dark and chilly, a thin blanket thrown over you. There’s a wet rag on your forehead, and your head’s resting on your folded cloak. You can feel the shaft of the bowseller’s black arrow brushing against your neck where it’s hidden in one of your pockets. The suffocating, painful feeling is gone from your body, and you get up in a seated position, looking around.
The dark dwelling you’re laying in is small and fragrant, smelling of various herbs and old books. There is a crammed bookshelf to your left, and what looks like some kind of magic circle made of sand on your right. In front of you is a cloaked figure with their back turned, and next to them on a perch, an old raven with milky eyes.
“Waked!” the raven crows, and you flinch, scrambling to pull the covers over your head. Before you can, the cloaked figure turns, and piercing green eyes gaze into your soul, your body, everywhere. You can pretty much feel those eyes in your bone marrows, and the sockets of your knees.
“Well,” the cloaked figure muses, pulling down their hood, and you see an elven woman standing before you, dark hair pooling in the folds of her hood like a dark pond. Her piercing yellow eyes narrow when they meet your gaze. “Hello there.”
a) Ask, [[“Who are you?”->A14caa]]
b) Ask, [[“Where am I?”->A14cab]]
c) Ask, [[“Did you save me?”->A14cac]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “I saved your life. That’s all you need to know. You ought to thank me.” You thank her feebly, crossing your legs under your blanket and pulling your father’s cloak to your chest.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you.”
You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A15]]The woman raises an eyebrow, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Not even a thank you, hmm?” She continues before you can splutter out a meager “thanks.” “In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I reached you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A15]]The woman smiles, turning her back on you again. The raven bobs its head, as if agreeing with her unspoken words. “Yes. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.” You mumble out a meager thanks, looking around the dark room. The walls don’t have corners; they seem to cave in on you, like the ground has swallowed both you and this woman up.
“Where am I?”
“In the heart of the Evergreen Mountains, child. You almost died from a lethal poison before I got to you. Be grateful for that.”
“Poison?” You gasp, and you remember that horrible pain you were having before you woke up here. It was poison. Was it the apple? You flip over and grab your cloak, rummaging through it, and you notice that it’s gone. “Wait—the apple—”
“Here,” the raven croaks, bobbing its head some more. You scramble to your feet, grabbing your things and running over to where the woman stands in the dark room. It feels more like a cavern than a room; maybe you’re inside the mountain.
“The apple, is it—was…?” you splutter, and the woman nods solemnly. She reaches into her pocket with long, elegant fingers and produces your apple, with two of your bites taken out of it. The fruitseller hadn’t just given you a rotten morning in the marketplace: she’d tried to //kill// you.
[[Continue->A15]]The truth of what happened comes washing over you like a cold current. If you hadn’t been saved by this witch lady, you’d be dead meat. Your father would be left unavenged, and you’d be left to rot in the wilderness of the Evergreen Mountains. All of this would’ve been for naught.
There’s a sinking feeling in your chest, and you hate it. You hate being helpless, and you were just on the brink of death, having to be saved by some stranger you barely know. Your eyes sting with humiliated tears, and a lump forms in your throat. Every instinct in your body tells you to swallow it down; you won’t cry. Crying makes you weak, and you aren’t weak. Are you?
“This type of poison is uncurable, unless you have powerful magic at your disposal as I do,” the elven woman tells you calmly. “I have not encountered it for a long time.”
“You’ve seen it before?” you ask hoarsely, struggling to keep your voice level.
“Yes. It was developed by an old friend of mine.” The woman—the witch—stroked the head of her milky-eyed raven. “Ilmenoth was his name.”
a) Say, [[“How do you know him?”->A15a]]
b) Say, [[“You’re an ally of Ilmenoth?”->A15b]]The witch closes her yellow eyes, drawing a dark navy cloth solemnly over her crystal ball. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the half-eaten apple in the witch’s hand, and you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud. First he took your father, and then, he tried to take you. He’s crossed the line now.
[[Continue->A16]]The witch glares at you, narrowing her yellow eyes when you grab the sheath of your father’s sword and draw out his blade, pointing it towards her in preparation for combat. You don’t know a thing about magic, but if you can chop her head off before she can do anything, you reckon you can stand a chance against her. After all, if this lady’s a friend of Ilmenoth, not standing a chance is not an option.
“Calm yourself, young one. I was his friend, a long time ago,” the witch snaps, and you hesitate before sheathing your blade slowly. “He and I were close when we were younger. But I left to live here in the Evergreen Mountains when he became the man he is today,” she tells you bitterly. “He is no longer the friend I once had, the Ilmenoth I once knew.”
You look at the half-eaten apple in the witch’s hand, and you clench your fists tightly at your sides. Ilmenoth created this poison—he tried to nip your inevitable arrival at his palace at the bud. First he took your father, and then, he tried to take you. He’s crossed the line now.
[[Continue->A16]]You grab the witch’s hand earnestly, and she flinches, yanking it immediately out of your grasp with an offended look. “Tell me how to get to his palace,” you plead. “I need to make him pay for this, and avenge my father.” The witch raises an eyebrow in interest, and her raven flaps onto her shoulder, cocking its head to the side as if in interest, too.
“Your father, hmm? Did he once try to defeat Ilmenoth himself?” You nod, clenching your fists together at your sides. “Did he fail?” You nod again. The witch places a hand on your shoulder, flashing you a keen, encouraging smile. She seems a little nicer after you’ve told her you lost your father to Ilmenoth. “Well, then. You and your father deserve justice, and Ilmenoth deserves to fall. After all that he has done...dying by your blade is the only justice he can get now.”
You pack up your things, including a not-poisoned pear given to you by the witch, and she takes you through a long, black tunnel, leading to a dead end and a ladder. Far, far over your head, you see a speck of light. You must be in the heart of the Evergreen Mountains.
“Climb up and head forward along the path of dark gray stones. You will be faced with a great danger on the way, but I know you will be able to prevail,” the witch tells you, holding a flickering candle in the dark by her side. Its wavering flame barely illuminates the black tunnel, and you thank her for her help and her guidance. Her yellow eyes gleam with their own fire, perhaps fueled by her hatred of Ilmenoth, or something else. You begin to climb up the ladder to the surface, to find and slay Ilmenoth for all that he has done. Your father will be avenged tonight when you slit the dark mage’s throat.
Halfway up, over the creaking of the wooden ladder and your own breaths, you cannot hear the witch when she whispers, “Farewell, Vhan Irvin.”
[[Continue->A19]]You finally reach the top of the ladder, climbing out of the hole you’d been in and stepping on wet soil. It’s dark and squishes under your boot, and when you look around in the bright daylight, a drop of water lands on your head from above. You’re under a jagged, mossy stone alcove, with fresh spring water splashing down a few feet away in the setting sun’s light. You realize how thirsty you are, and you hurry over to the tiny waterfall and open your mouth, stopping underneath it to drink.
The water splashes all over your face and gets into your eyes and your windpipe. You choke and cough and hack and realize barely any of it went where it was supposed to. When you can breathe and see again, you drink more carefully this time, and set out along the gray stone path the elven witch had told you to follow. Your hair and your cloak are a bit soggy, and you shiver in the cool shade of the giant evergreen trees as you walk. You’ll warm up in a bit, though. Hopefully.
As you continue on your way, picking along the loose stone trail, you realize with a sense of dread that the sun’s setting, and you’re going to be pretty cold for a while. Not only that, but the forest begins to darken: the shadows of the towering pines grow longer, and you find yourself hurrying through them as if they’ll swallow you up if you dwell in their darkness for too long. The last of the setting sun’s merciful rays become flickering spots of light between the thick foliage, like stars in a night sky, before they disappear altogether.
Shivering, you take out your father’s sword in the darkness, and you can see the very faint reflection of the moon in the silver blade. You’ll use this as your one point of light as you follow the witch’s path. The only thing guiding you is the trembling moon on your blade and the clatter of rocks as you walk along them. Crickets and cicadas are buzzing in the trees, and a nightingale is singing somewhere in the canopy, so at least you aren’t entirely alone.
You feel a tickle in your nose, and you gasp and sneeze, stumbling from the force of it. Hopefully your soggy clothes and the night chill won’t give you a cold. You can hear your //achoo! achoo! achoo!// reverberating in the mountains, like a dumb gong. And then, somewhere in the trees in front of you, you hear a low, irritated growl.
a) [[Run in the opposite direction, back to the witch’s cavern for safety.->A19a]]
b) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A19b]]
c) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A19c]]You decide to run back to the witch’s cavern, turning around. Then, you stop yourself, thinking. For real? You aren’t a coward, are you? You turn back around, steeling yourself and taking a deep breath. If you’re going to avenge your father, you shouldn’t run from any danger no matter how great.
a) [[Keep walking along the path. You’ll have to confront this thing eventually.->A19b]]
b) [[Run right at it. Get rid of the threat before it becomes one.->A19c]]Still trembling from the cold, you pull a dry corner of your father’s cloak over your nose to keep your face warm as you slowly walk forward, holding his sword out in front of you. The growl didn’t sound like a wolf or a mountain lion or something, or anything you’ve ever heard, really. It was low and gutteral, like it was rumbling in the throat of something huge and very, very mad. You tiptoe along the stone path, your heart pounding so hard you think you’re going to pass out. You’re still hungry, too, so that doesn’t help the situation at all.
The darkness is unnerving, and you can hear something breathing and snorting. The sound gets louder and louder, and then there’s the stench of death, of a recent meal. And then, the tip of your sword skids against a wall of tough skin, blocking your only way to Ilmenoth’s palace. Your heart stops, and you look up. And two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, and look back down.
An orc.
a) [[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A19baa]]
b) [[Panic.->A19bab]]Swallowing your fear (and some phlegm), you let out a war cry that pierces the night and charge forward, your blade at the ready. The rocks clatter under your boots as you race towards the sound, and before you can even realize what you’ve done, two giant orange eyes open in the black sky, glaring—very much vexed—down at you.
An orc.
There’s a whoosh somewhere above you, and your sword doesn’t have a chance to swing when what feels like ten tons of weight comes crashing down on you. Your face is crushed against the jagged stones you’d been running on moments before, and there’s a snap and a series of unpleasant crunches in your chest. Those were your spine and ribs under the giant orc’s fist, but worry not, you didn’t feel any of it.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A19]]
[[Start all over again.->A19ca]]Stumbling backwards as the huge orc gets slowly to its feet, you chew your lip and try to figure out how in the world you’re going to make it onto the other side. The elven witch told you to follow the gray stone path; maybe there’s another route somewhere, but it’s way too dark to go looking for it now. You’d rather make it to the Southern Sea missing a few fingers than arrive in a whole other country unscathed.
The orc is putrid and giant, you know this. But you can barely see the foul thing in the darkness, and the light of the moon on the edge of your blade can only do so much. If you can locate its vitals or something, this wouldn’t be too much of a hassle. Unfortunately, you can’t. You have to think of something else, fast.
a) [[Hide in a tree and wait it out.->A19baaaa]]
b) [[Crawl underneath it while it’s standing.->A19baaab]]
c) [[Just climb over it.->A19baaac]]You hyperventilate for a couple seconds, your father’s sword trembling in your hands, and then you realize that’s not going to do you any good. You have to do //something//—you can’t just give up here, not when you’ve made it this far.
[[Figure out how to get past this thing.->A19baa]]You rush off the path, not bothering to think of what’ll happen if you don’t find it again, and you find a big tree with rough bark, good for climbing. You sheath your father’s sword and scrabble up onto a low branch, clinging to it as you listen to the orc’s footsteps lumbering towards you. Your heart is racing as you hug yourself against the branch, and you can feel it throbbing against the bark.
Your heart nearly explodes out of your chest when the orc stops in front of the tree you’re hiding in, and its stink makes your eyes water. It’s standing right in front of you. Its orange eyes stare just a hair past you. It can’t see you, but it can smell you.
When its eyes lower at last, you let out a shuddering breath of relief. You’re safe.
And then, the whole branch starts shuddering. You cling onto it for dear life when the orc tears the entire tree out of the ground, and with an irritated, slobbery snarl, sends it—and you—flying.
You know better than to scream, so you just say random curse words as the tree makes a magnificent arc in the air like a javelin, then begins barreling back down towards the ground. You say your prayers, make peace with the spirits, and with a great woody, rocky explosion, the tree crashes down onto...the stone path.
You let go of the branch and brace yourself with your arms a heartbeat before impact, and the stones scrape your shoulders and legs as you skid across them, alive. Alive! The tree is demolished, but you’re in one piece. And to your great delight, you haven’t just gotten past the orc. The orc has thrown you farther down the path through the Evergreen Mountains. You almost want to thank the vile thing as you brush the splinters and dust off yourself, stumbling to your feet. You made it.
[[Continue->A24]]You shakily sheath your father’s sword, taking a few steps back as the orc’s eyes get higher and higher in the black sky. It should be standing by now. This is a pretty risky move, but it’s the best idea you could come up with. When the orc takes a big, lumbering step forward, you dart blindly towards it, scrunching your face up and diving hopefully under the beast’s legs. You don’t feel anything but air, and then the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path scraping your arms and legs when you flop onto them. The orc howls angrily, stomping around you, and you scramble to your feet, wincing at the cuts that had torn through your clothes and into your skin, running as fast as you can away.
The orc’s furious snarls and growls grow quieter and quieter behind you, and you know you’ve lost the beast. You slow down to a jog, and then slump onto the ground to catch your breath. You’re still on the stone path, still in one piece. You made it.
[[Continue->A24]]To hell with being careful, that’s going to take you too long. You grip the hilt of your father’s blade, holding it over your head, and with a grunt of effort, plunge it with just enough force into the orc to penetrate its tough skin. The beast roars in pain, and you leap up, using the sword as leverage, to grab onto what must be the orc’s...beard? The orc struggles to its feet, and its blood smells just as disgusting as the rest of it does as you pull your father’s sword out of the great beast and plunge it higher up on the orc’s huge body again.
The orc sways and yawps, and your heart nearly stops when a big thumb the size of a ham grazes your back. You flinch when the orc strikes, and misses—it hits itself in the stomach, resulting in a big “urgh” that makes you kind of feel bad. Then, the most brilliant idea you’ve probably every thought of, or anyone has ever thought of for that matter, comes to your head.
You have to get to //its// head.
You clamber precariously and quickly up the giant orc, using your father’s sword as some kind of climbing pick, and you see its orange eyes in your reach, spinning from the orc’s nausea of having gut-punched itself. With a cry of determination, you sheath your father’s sword and leap onto the orc’s face, grabbing onto its meaty ears and clinging on desperately when the monster shakes its head. There’s a pause, and you jump into the air just as the orc’s fist slams into its own face, and the great beast collapses onto the path with a pitiful howl of pain. You land clumsily on the jagged stones of the elven witch’s path, and they scrape your arms and legs when you flop onto them. You scrabble to your feet, gasping for breath, adrenaline threatening to make your heart stop if you get any more exhilarated. The orc is silent, and you’re on the other side. You made it.
[[Continue->A24]]You limp as silently and carefully as you can the rest of the way along the gray stone path, your hand clamped over your mouth so your teeth aren’t chattering too loudly. Some of the cuts you’ve gotten are bleeding a little, so you dry them the best you can with your father’s cloak so you don’t attract any big predators or anything.
After what must have been hours of just walking, you stumble into a tree growing very close to the gray stone path. You pat around the base of it in the dark, finding a good space between two gnarled roots, and slump down, wrapping yourself up warmly in your father’s cloak and dozing off. Hopefully, you might be able to catch a couple z’s and start the next day with some energy. That stupid apple did practically nothing to fill you up, and you’re honestly surprised you’re still conscious. You take out the pear the elven witch gave you and eat it before tossing the core into the undergrowth and passing out moments later.
You wake up in a very unfamiliar place. You haven’t seen this part of the Evergreen Mountains before in the daylight, so of course it’s unfamiliar. The gray stone path is glistening with dew, as is the undergrowth that flanks it on both sides. The sky is a misty morning gray between the high canopies, and the trees are greener than you remember them ever being. You rub the sleep from your eyes and continue on the gray stone path as the sun rises to the east.
There’s a slight inclination to the path as you walk, and before you know it, it’s flattened out and the evergreen trees have parted slightly, making way for a clear blue sky overhead. You break into a run, determined to get off this mountain as fast as you can. The gray stone path grows thinner, each stone spaced out sparser, until the earth seems to absorb them and your path is replaced by dirt. You look up, and your eyes widen at the beautiful sight laid out before you.
The dirt path you stand at the mouth of leads into a small village, like a littler replica of Cherry Nook. Wood and stone houses are situated in a valley between two of the Evergreen Mountains—the one you just climbed over, and another in the vast range—with children running to and fro and their mothers speaking and pumping water from an old stone well in the center of the village. In the distance over the stone roofs of the houses, the green morphs into an off-white expanse, and then into a deep, unending blue. It blends right into the sky, blurring the horizon, as if the world ends right before you. The Southern Sea.
[[Continue->A25]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A19c]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]An old man with an empty fishing net is passing by when you enter the seaside village, and before you have a chance to greet him, he sees you and cries out, “By the tides, you look like you just lost a fight with a thorn bush! What’s happened to you, child?”
a) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A25a]]
b) Answer, [[“I almost became orc food last night.”->A25b]]
c) Answer, [[“Do you have bandages?”->A25c]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Hm...I’ll take your word for it, I s’pose. What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “That’s...a long story, too. But I have to go. Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down inquisitively. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Orc food? Have you come from the Evergreen Mountains? I heard there was a troublesome orc there many years ago.”
“Yessir.”
“Well, you must be mighty strong, to have gotten past it!” You chuckle and scratch your head embarrasedly at the old man’s praise. “What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “Well, I bet you can do it, given you’ve overcome the orc,” he mutters. You blink in confusion.
“Do what?”
The old man laughed nervously. “Well, the Southern Sea is a bit dangerous to sail on. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve gotten past an orc before! Slaying this big snake will be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]The old man raises an eyebrow, frowning when you dodge his question. His old eyes are a vivid blue, like drops of the sea on his tanned, wrinkly face. You wonder if everyone here has eyes like him, and if being bathed in sea spray made them all as beautiful as the sea itself.
“Sure I do, but what’s happened to you? What’s your business here?”
“I’m trying to cross the Southern Sea, to get to the dark mage Ilmenoth’s palace,” you tell him, hoping he won’t make a scene. “Is there anyone you know who can help me?”
The old man’s sea blue eyes widen, and he adjusts his straw hat and huffs incredulously. “I don’t think you’re stupid, friend,” he says, which is probably a lie, “but that’s...unwise. Especially given the...current circumstances here.”
“The current circumstances?” you echo, looking around. The village seems perfectly in order to you. A small child toddles out one of the many houses, looking up at you with sea blue eyes. “Everythings seems fine to me here. What circumstances are these, exactly?”
Just then, you hear people screaming, and then the blood-curdling screech of another oversized monster, and the splashing of great currents crashing against rocks. The old man nods, as if someone had just been speaking to him, and over the farthest roofs of the seaside village, you see something red splashing in the shallow morning tide. A fin. A giant fin, belonging to a giant sea beast.
“That’s,” you say, pointing helplessly.
“That’s indeed. Y’see, friend, we’ve been having a bit of trouble lately. A giant sea serpent got stranded in reef after a storm, and we can’t go out fishing without riskin’ our lives. Our families are starving.” The old man sighed shakily. “Just what are we supposed to do…?”
You think briefly of some other way to get to Ilmenoth’s palace. Maybe if you cross from a different part of the sea? Or maybe if you just...fly?
But then you remember who you are: you’re a hero. You help people. And these people are in trouble—the trouble being, namely, a giant sea serpent. If you help these villagefolk, maybe they can help you. And you’ll get to Ilmenoth faster this way. It all works out.
“Let me help you, old man,” you volunteer. “I’ve slain a beast like this before! This’ll be a breeze.” The old man rubs his chin, then looks at your father’s sword.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to get past it somehow. I’ll help you all while I’m at it.” The old man smiles, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkling.
“...All right then. Thank you, young friend.”
[[Continue->A250 (SERP)]]You place a reassuring hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry. I know just what to do.” You take out your father’s sword, stepping onto the edge of the rocky cliff. The villagefolk gasp, letting out different exclamations all at once as you stare down into the blue reef beneath you, taking in a deep breath.
“Slow down there, friend,” the old man cries, grabbing onto your arm, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to end your people’s misery once and for all!” With a swing of your sword and a bold battle cry, you leap off the edge of the cliff, hearing the seaside villagers scream. You ready your father’s sword, narrowing your eyes against the sea spray, and then they widen with dread when the serpent emerges from the pocket of sea, opening its slavering jaws to receive you. The last thing you see is three rows of sharp, serrated teeth that crush your father’s sword to shards, a forked tongue, and a dark pink throat before you’re enveloped in black.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A250 (SERP)]]
[[Start all over again.->A250aa]]You turn around to face the anxious village people crowded around you. “Hear me, friends,” you say to them, and they hear you. “This beast is one that cannot be felled by one person alone. We have to work together; so I ask that the strongest of you step forward, and we’ll slay the sea serpent terrorizing your village together! What do you say?”
A few of the villagefolk smile weariliy at you, while the rest shuffle their feet on the sandy rocks and mutter amongst themselves. You frown, your perfectly good motivational speech having been wasted.
“We’ve tried attacking it as a group before,” the old man tells you by your side. His sea blue eyes are cloudy with grief, and you can sense already what he’s trying to say. “Those who went that time...they did not return.”
You glance back at the serpent’s reef again with a sigh, watching its massive, glsitening blue body move with the current like an extension to the sea. The people are scared of losing more of their family members to the beast, and you know how much losing family hurts. You give up on trying to convince them, watching as the serpent lurks beneath the waves.
Suddenly, another streak of silvery gray darts out of the pinkish reefs, and the pocket of sea begins to swirl as the serpent chases after it. The fish then leaps out of the water, spreading four blue fins—a flying fish—and then the serpent’s head surged swiftly out of the water to chase it in the air. The flying fish splashes back under the surface, and you lean over the cliff, watching it weave through pillars of blue, swimming frantic circles around the serpent until the giant beast snaps its jaws around it, and the silver is gone. And a brilliant idea lights up in your head.
[[Continue->A26]]“Let’s wait a little more, and see how it acts. Maybe we can find a weakness,” you tell the villagefolk, looking back down into the sea. They mumble uncomfortably behind you as you squint at the serpent as it camouflages into the waves, its red fins tucked into its body.
Suddenly, another streak of silvery gray darts out of the pinkish reefs, and the pocket of sea begins to swirl as the serpent chases after it. The fish then leaps out of the water, spreading four blue fins—a flying fish—and then the serpent’s head surged swiftly out of the water to chase it in the air. The flying fish splashes back under the surface, and you lean over the cliff, watching it weave through pillars of blue, swimming frantic circles around the serpent until the giant beast snaps its jaws around it, and the silver is gone. And a brilliant idea lights up in your head.
[[Continue->A26]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A250a]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]The serpent is starving, just as the village people are. It’s willing to chase prey anywhere they go, desperate for a meal; if you can somehow get it to chase itself into a knot, you can immobilize it and make it easier for the villagers to attack. Grinning at your genius, you whip around and explain your plan to the villagefolk, and for the first time you can see determination lighting up their blue and green eyes.
You watch as a seagull passes over the serpent’s pocket of sea, and wince when the huge monster surges upwards from the blue depths and snaps its jaws around the poor bird before it even has a chance to squawk. It’s //really// desperate. You need to act fast before all its tiny prey take the edge off its frenzied hunger.
“We need something that can travel through water fast,” you say, half to yourself as the serpent splashes back into its reef. “Something small, but not too small…” The villagers are all putting forth ideas of their own—a small canoe, which was too big; their fastest swimmer, who probably was not fast enough—and you put your hands on your hips and feel something under your cloak. The slender, sturdy shaft of the black arrow, hidden in your pocket.
You ask if any of the villagers have a bow, and hurry over when you see a young man in the back of the crowd hold one in the air. You take out the black arrow, its obsidian tip glistening in the sunlight, and you nock it onto the bow. You never expected it to be of much use when you received it, but you are so, so glad that it is.
“We’ve tried to shoot it before,” the old man exclaimed, as you tug experimentally at the bow’s string. “Its scales are as hard as armor. It’s no use.”
“Don’t worry, old man,” you reassure him, not bothering to wonder if he even likes being called “old man” or not. “I’m not trying to kill it yet. I’m going to tie this overgrown noodle up for good.”
The villagers follow you along the path leading down the steep cliff, and you crouch behind a giant black rock, covered in kelp and barnacles. They crowd behind you, which is kind of bothersome, but it probably won’t be too much of a problem.
It actually proves to be a huge problem, because the crown of the serpent’s giant head, decorated with a scarlet finned frill, emerges from the water and its opaline eyes stare at the villagers failing to hide behind your rock. If you don’t act, the serpent’s going to have the biggest meal in its life.
“It sees us,” a young boy gasps somewhere behind you. “We’re dead!” You turn to reassure him, searching frantically for something comforting to say.
a) Tell the villagers, [[“Just stay calm.”->A26a]]
b) Tell the villagers, [[“We just have to wait.”->A26b]]
c) Tell the villagers, [[“Scatter!”->A26c]]“Just stay calm. Everything’s going to be alright,” you tell the boy and his fellow villagefolk. Twenty pairs of anxious blue-green eyes stare back at you, and you clear your throat and glance back up ahead. The serpent has raised its head fully out of the water now, poised and ready to lunge. Its forked tongue flicks out between two ridiculously long ivory fangs, tasting the air as if it’s an appetizer for your blood. You swallow and focus your gaze on the movement below the surface, waiting for the serpent’s long snaking body to form a loop. Problem is, it’s nearly impossible to discern from the blue seawater, and with the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the ripples, you can barely see a thing.
Suddenly, the serpent screeches and surges towards you, jaws opening to swallow you whole. Before you can even react, you hear a series of fwip fwips whizzing past your ear, and four silver-tipped arrows pierce into the pulsing pink flesh of the serpent’s mouth. The monster shrieks in pain, tossing its head, and its body twists in the water, arching and splashing.
You whip around to see the other villagers who have their bows drawn, and you thank them, turning back to watch the serpent as it reels in pain, momentarily distracted. The midsection of its long body arches over the turbulent surface of the sea, and its red-finned tail lashes, curling. A loop. This is your chance!
You narrow your eyes and draw back the bowstring, gripping the villager’s bow as you aim your sleek black arrow at the loop in the serpent’s body. The serpent snaps its mouth shut furiously, honing its four-eyed gaze upon you and the villagers again, hissing with arrow shafts sticking out between its ferocious teeth.
[[Continue->A27]]“We just have to wait. Once the time is right, we’ll strike,” you tell the boy and his fellow villagefolk. Twenty pairs of anxious blue-green eyes stare back at you, and you clear your throat and glance back up ahead. The serpent has raised its head fully out of the water now, poised and ready to lunge. Its forked tongue flicks out between two ridiculously long ivory fangs, tasting the air as if it’s an appetizer for your blood. You swallow and focus your gaze on the movement below the surface, waiting for the serpent’s long snaking body to form a loop. Problem is, it’s nearly impossible to discern from the blue seawater, and with the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the ripples, you can barely see a thing.
The old man tenses up next to you, and you say, “Just wait…”
“It’s looking right at us!” the old man protests, trembling with fear.
“Just wait…” you say again, narrowing your eyes and swallowing down your own anxiety. Once its body forms a loop you can shoot an arrow through, the village will be saved, and so will its people. And then, you can continue on your quest. All you have to do is wait.
Suddenly, the serpent screeches and surges towards you, jaws opening to swallow you whole. The villagers scream and run, and you scramble backwards in the sand and pebbles, finding yourself backed against the foot of the rocky cliff. You waited a //bit// too long to strike.
The serpent’s forked tongue, three rows of sharp, serrated teeth, and a dark pink throat are the last things you see before you’re enveloped in blackness.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A26]]
[[Start all over again.->A26ba]]“Scatter! Go in all different directions!” you shout, and the villagers scramble to their feet, some yelling, some screaming (there’s a difference, you just can’t tell what it is right now). The serpent’s opaline eyes dart from one villager to the next, its head bobbing and weaving this way and that, and it shrieks, twisting its head as it tries to go for the closest villager; a tiny little girl, scurrying after her mother on the kelp-ridden sand.
You gasp and leap to their rescue, shoving both the girl and her mother out of the way, and the serpent hisses and flicks its forked tongue, its head whipping in the direction of a cry of pain. The old man tripped while trying to climb the cliff. To your relief, a young man hauls him to his feet and pulls him behind a big rock.
The villagers are running all over the sand, and the serpent seems to be considering each and every one, twisting and thrashing in the water as its attention darts feverishly from one potential piece of prey to another. The midsection of its long body arches over the turbulent surface of the sea, and its red-finned tail lashes, curling. A loop. This is your chance!
You narrow your eyes and draw back the bowstring, gripping the villager’s bow as you aim your sleek black arrow at the loop in the serpent’s body. The serpent hisses and snaps, and for a terrifying second, its maddened gaze comes to rest on you.
[[Continue->A27]]You take a deep, deep breath, and you loose the arrow. It flies straight and true, and the serpent, distracted, dives right after it. Its ivory horns skid along the surface of the sea, and all the villagers hold their breaths. A heartbeat after the black arrow flies through the loop, the serpent snaps its jaws around the shaft, and you hear the beautiful arrow splinter in its teeth. And then the serpent jerks, shrieking, and its whole length thrashes and splashes in the shallow reef, its body tangled in an awful, perfect knot. It tries to free itself, and you can see its sea blue scales scraping against one another as it strains, and for just a second, you feel bad for the thing. After all, it wasn’t its fault that it got washed into the village’s reef.
But suddenly, you’re suddenly lifted into the air, and all the villagers are whooping and cheering, “hip, hip, hooray for our hero!” as they throw you up and down. You laugh and let yourself bask a bit; “our hero” sure has a nice ring to it.
“You’ve saved our village,” the old man exclaims as the villagers set you down on your feet. “How can we ever repay you?”
“There’s no need to repay me. I’m just glad to help.” You glance back at the tied-up serpent struggling in the reef, and see a few villagers with spears wading into the water. “Wait—hold on, don’t kill it!” The villagers with spears turn and look at you incredulously.
“Huh?”
“It’s not fair to the serpent. It was an accident that it got washed over the sandbar, wasn’t it? Is there any way you guys can...I don’t know, haul it back into the deep sea?” The villagers mutter to one another, some nodding, some shrugging.
“I don’t see why not,” one of the spearmen answers. “With enough nets and manpower, it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. But why are you so insistent on keeping it alive?”
You shrug, scratching the back of your head. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right to kill it when none of this was its fault.”
“You’re a fair-minded hero, you are,” the old man smiles at your side, and you smile back. “Well, you’d best be on your way, then.” You blink rapidly in confusion as he pats your shoulder.
“‘On my way?’ To...to where?”
“Didn’t you say you were going to Ilmenoth’s palace?”
All the villagers gasped and started talking amongst themselves, and you gasp. How could you have forgotten the reason you went on your journey in the first place? “You’re right! Thank you. I...how can I get there?”
The old man points over the serpent’s reef, at the small settlement on the other side connected by the sandbar. “There’s a village called Salmon Wharf just north of here. If you travel there, they have many fishermen who can take you across the sea to Ilmenoth’s palace.”
“Thank you...I thought you said I was crazy for wanting to go there,” you tell him, and the old man chuckles, sea blue eyes glittering in the midday sunlight.
“Yeah, well. You’ve proven your strength with the serpent. You oughta be fine at the dark mage’s palace, whatever you’re doing there.” You shake his hand when he extends it, and promise to return one day. The villagers all gather to see you off, and some little kids hug you and some nice boys and girls your age shyly ask for your name.
“Take care!” you say, waving as you take off your shoes and wade into the cool shallow sea. The villagers all wave back, and you dig your toes into the sandbar in the ankle-deep water. The serpent’s four opaline eyes are glaring at you, its head wrapped up in its tail, and you grin at it, waggling your fingers goodbye. Hopefully, it’ll untie itself in the deep sea where it belongs.
With a last farewell to the villagers, you begin to run along the sandbar, splashing through the shallow water as you race for Salmon Wharf, and then, Ilmenoth. As you run farther and farther from the shore, it looks to you as if you’re running on the surface of the water; and you feel that if you stop, you’ll plunge into the endless depths of the sea. It makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. Across the vast blue sea you’re crossing is a small, seaside settlement at the foot of another mountain on the Evergreen range: your ticket to Ilmenoth. Vengeance awaits.
[[Continue->A28]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A26b]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]By the time you reach the shore of Salmon Wharf, you can barely feel your toes. The tide has begun to rise with the day, and even though you rolled the cuffs of your pants all the way up to your knees, they’re still a bit soggy. You slosh onto shore, seeing fishing boats leaning against one another under a set of wooden docks, and remember you still haven’t gotten anything to eat. You rummage through your pockets as you sit down on a sun-baked rock, and realize you can barely afford a decent dry biscuit with the meager funds you have left. It feels like less than you started out with, and you realize some of your coins might have fallen out of your pockets during your many misadventures arriving here, which is dumb and frustrating. As much as some seafood would really hit the spot, you’re very, very broke.
Stomach growling, you dab your feet dry with the edge of your father’s cloak and shove them into your boots and look around. Salmon Wharf looks much bigger than the village the serpent had been terrorizing, and you glance behind you in the direction of it; over the pale curve of the sandbar, you see a distant blue blob roll onto it from a secluded reef, and splash into the water. You grin; the villagers must have just helped the serpent back into the sea.
You blink when someone far away shouts, “Hey, you! With the sword!” You look up at the voice, which had come from the wooden dock. A young man is standing there, gesturing for you to come over. You shove your measly coins back into your pockets and hurry over, climbing over the barnacle-ridden rocks and stopping to pick up a big mussel you find in a little tide pool.
You climb onto the dock, slipping on some half-dried seaweed, and brush off your cloak. The young man looks probably a year or so older than you, with a red handkerchief tied behind his ears and golden brown hair tied in a small ponytail. He’s wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, and a fisherman’s waders. He has almond-shaped hazel eyes that sparkle in the sunlight and a lot of freckles. You don’t know much about pretty people, but he’s pretty pretty.
“Hey, I just saw you walk across the sea. What’s the deal with that?” the young man asks, interrupting your thoughts. He sounds more accusing than curious, like you’re going to get in trouble if he doesn’t like your answer. You flinch, trying to come up with a good excuse.
a) Say, [[“I walked across the sandbar.”->A28a]]
b) Say, [[“I’m magical.”->A28b]]
c) Say, [[“Hi I’m Vhan what’s your name.”->A28c]]The young man glances over your head—which isn’t too hard, since he’s a couple inches taller than you—and says, “Oh...right. I forgot that thing was even there.” He sniffs, then turns away and walks to the edge of the dock with his hands in the pockets of his waders. They look a bit big on him, like they belong to someone else. “Cool, see ya.”
[[Continue->A29]]The young man narrows his hazel eyes at you suspiciously, and you find yourself blurting out, “Oh, actually, I walked across the sandbar.” You blink rapidly in shock; was the young man’s gaze enough to make you tell the truth?
“That was a boring lie.” He glances over your head—which isn’t too hard, since he’s a couple inches taller than you—and says, “Oh...right. I forgot the sandbar was even there.” He sniffs, then turns away and walks to the edge of the dock with his hands in the pockets of his waders. They look a bit big on him, like they belong to someone else. “Cool, see ya.”
[[Continue->A29]]The young man blinks in surprise, and you gasp and smack your hand over your mouth. Why did you say that?
“...What?”
You feel your face growing hot with embarrassment. “Ahum—I said—I said—hi, I’m Vhan, and...gut’s my...my game,” you stammer. The young man raises an eyebrow, and you splutter out, “I mean—like fish guts! I like...fish...”
To your relief, the young man snickers. “Yeah? Well...okay. But you didn’t answer my question. How’d you run across the water like that?”
a) Say, [[“I walked across the sandbar.”->A28a]]
b) Say, [[“I’m magical.”->A28b]]"Wait, wait, wait!” You scramble after him, grabbing onto his sleeve, and the young man whips around. “Do you have a boat? I—I need to get across the Southern Sea to the palace of the dark mage, Ilmenoth. Do you think you can take me there?”
The young man’s disinterested hazel eyes suddenly widen, and he asks, “Why in the world would you want to go there?”
“I’ll tell you on the way there, if you can take me there,” you say, and the young man looks behind you at Salmon Wharf beyond the rocky, sandy shore. The closest buildings are on stilts, probably to evade the high tide. In the faraway cluster of houses, you can see some people walking to and fro, some carrying baskets, some carrying nets.
“...Yeah, okay. I can take you there.” The young man looks like he’s running from something. He grabs your wrist and tugs you after him, and he jumps, dragging you right off the dock. Your yelp of shock is cut off when you fall into a small fishing boat with a thump, and your companion lands on his feet beside you. “Can you row?”
“Row?” You sit up on the bottom of the boat, looking around. There are two wooden oars attached to the sides by mossy oarlocks, and an empty wooden pail next to you. And before you, a seemingly endless sea. “...We’re going to row?”
“If we sail, they’ll see us,” the young man tells you in a hushed whisper. He seems to be...escaping something. “You can row. Let’s go, now.” You scrabble onto the bench next to the nearest oar as he sits on the other, and you grip the shaft of your oar and pull it towards you with a grunt. The young man pushes at his own oar, and you can hear the clatter of rocks underwater as the fishing boat is pushed into the water. You have some doubts—if the boat can survive the rough deeper sea, if you can row very well with no energy, if this young man even knows where he’s going—but they dissolve as the fishing boat floats farther away from the dock of Salmon Wharf. It’s not that you’re not worried anymore, it’s just that you don’t really have another choice.
[[Continue->A30]]You and your companion row in silence, and you watch as the shore grows smaller and smaller, and the Southern Sea grows bluer and bluer, and the high Evergreen Mountains begin to vanish into the clouds. The clouds are new: they cloak the burning midday sun in a soft white shawl, and along with the calm seawinds, it makes for a perfectly pleasant experience.
The young man pauses his rowing, water splashing off the blade of his oar as he lifts it into the air, leaning on the shaft. You pause too, but then he says, “No, you keep going. We have to turn.” You frown at him and continue rowing. How does he even know which direction the boat’s going in? His keen hazel eyes rest on your face. “...So, why are you trying to go to the dark mage’s palace?”
a) Answer, [[“Long story.”->A30a]]
b) Answer, [[“Revenge stuff.”->A30b]]
c) Answer, [[“I’ll say after I get your name.”->A30c]]The young man rests his chin in his palm, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. “Yeah?”
“...Yeah.” The story feels way longer than it was when you started out. The young man shrugs, and continues rowing. To your surprise, he doesn’t seem very interested at all. And to even more of your surprise, that annoys you. You’re a hero. Is your aura not heroic enough? You need a more heroic aura.
a) [[Let it be.->A30aaa]]
b) [[Give yourself a more heroic aura.->A30aab]]The young man hums in interest, folding his arms on the shaft of his oar. For some odd reason, you find yourself pleased that he wants to know more about you. “What kind of revenge stuff?”
a) Answer, [[“Doesn’t matter. Revenge is revenge.”->A30baa]]
b) Answer, [[“My father.”->A30bab]]The young man grins at you, and his smile nearly kills you on the spot. It seems to you that you’re weak to anything you can’t fight with a sword. Well, you can fight him with a sword, but what good would that do?
“...Name’s Cam.” The young man, Cam, extends a hand towards you, and you pause your rowing to shake it. You grasp Cam’s hand—it’s warm—before continuing to row, and he joins you in your work. “And you’re…?”
“Vhan.”
“Nice to meet you, Vhan.”
[[Continue->A31]]Sighing, you row along with the young man away from Salmon Wharf, feeling kind of unheroic. It bothers you that you still don’t know your companion’s name. So to remedy this, you ask, “What’s your name?” The young man looks bored as he rows, sitting and facing you on his bench.
“Cam,” he answers. “You?”
“Vhan.”
“Nice to meet you, Vhan.” You can sense he doesn’t really mean it. He doesn’t think it’s nice to meet you at all!
[[Continue->A32]]You clear your throat, squinting into the distance as the mainland begins to disappear. “Um...you know, I defeated a big sea serpent an hour ago.” The young man glances at you in the corner of his eye. You’ve piqued his interest.
“Is that so?”
“Yep. And an orc in the Evergreen Mountains.” The young man grins brightly, and it almost knocks you off the boat.
“That’s pretty impressive.”
You struggle to make a smug face. “Yeah. But that’s all a long story like I said, I don’t wanna waste your time telling it.”
The young man smiles, “We’ll be on the open sea for quite a while. I don’t mind you wasting some of my time.” You smile back, and you realize that you haven’t smiled like this for a while. It aches on your face, like a pulled muscle.
“I’m Cam, by the way,” the young man introduces himself. He extends extends a hand towards you, and you pause your rowing to shake it. You grasp Cam’s hand—it’s warm—before continuing to row, and he joins you. “And you’re…?”
“Vhan.”
“Nice to meet you, Vhan.”
[[Continue->A31]]As you and Cam row through the calm sea, you find yourself awkwardly searching the horizon for something to look at. You want to talk to Cam, but he doesn’t seem very interested in the idea of starting a conversation or participating in one. You can probably owe that to your lame first impression.
There was a fishing rod on the bottom of the boat that Cam is now using to catch fish, probably from boredom. You’d really like some fish, but asking him for a bite to eat is the last thing you want to do right now. He’s sitting on his side of the boat, staring intently into the sea. You cough to hide your stomach’s insatiable growling, and Cam sighs, tugging his fishing line back up to toss his hook out to sea again.
“We’re going to have to rely on curiosity, since we don’t have any bait,” Cam mutters to himself. You wrap your arms around your calves as you slump over yourself on your bench, stomach aching. You feel a small lump on your leg and dig through your cloak, finding the big mussel you had picked on the beach.
“Hey, will this work? As bait, I mean?” you ask, showing Cam the black mussel, and Cam glances at you, then back at the mussel. Maybe he’ll talk to you after you helped him.
“Yeah.” You give him the mussel, frowning when he doesn’t thank you, and Cam does what you presume only to be fisherman magic, as he cracks open the shell with the heel of his wading boot and hooks some of the mussel’s meat onto the fishing hook in one swift motion, tossing it out into the sea again. You look ahead while Cam is busy fishing, and far off in the distance, you see a black line. Land!
Before you could tell Cam, the young man gasps, “Got a bite!” and pulls his fishing rod to his chest, bracing his wading boots against the side of the boat. “Whoa, it’s huge—”
With a big splash, the biggest silvery salmon you’ve ever seen leaps out of the water. It slaps into the bottom of the boat, flopping around, and Cam pulls a knife out of...somewhere and does...something to his catch, you don’t know how fishing works. But your stomach is just about ready to burst out of your body and devour the fish yourself, that’s what you know.
Then, a giant blue mass surges out of the water a heartbeat after the salmon, red fins scattering water in the air. The monster shrieks in frustration—the salmon was probably its prey—and your eyes widen in horror when you meet its angry opaline gaze.
The serpent.
a) Say, [[“You again?”->A32a]]
b) Say, [[“Cam, ROW!”->A32b]]As you and Cam row through the calm sea, you talk, and you find yourself feeling light, as if a great weight has been lifted off your shoulders. After so long on your own, you’re relieved to have someone to talk to, to keep you company. You’re lucky that your journey isn’t one of solitude anymore. Maybe after you kill Ilmenoth, you and Cam could row back to Salmon Wharf together.
There was a fishing rod on the bottom of the boat that Cam is now using to catch both of you something to eat, after you let slip that you’re starved half to death. He’s sitting on his side of the boat now, staring intently into the sea. You cough to hide your stomach’s insatiable growling, and Cam sighs, tugging his fishing line back up to toss the hook out to sea again.
“We’re going to have to rely on curiosity, since we don’t have any bait,” Cam tells you sullenly. “Fish aren’t that curious these days, so this might...take a while.” You say that it’s fine, wrapping your arms around your calves as you slump over yourself on your bench. You feel a small lump on your leg and dig through your cloak, finding the big mussel you had picked on the beach.
“Hey, will this work?” you ask, showing Cam the black mussel, and Cam gasps and gestures for you to give it to him, nodding.
“Yeah, that’ll do perfectly.” You give him the mussel and he does what you presume only to be fisherman magic, as he cracks open the shell with the heel of his wading boot and hooks some of the mussel’s meat onto the fishing hook in one swift motion, tossing it out into the sea again. You look ahead while Cam is busy fishing, and far off in the distance, you see a black line. Land!
Before you could tell Cam, the young man exclaims, “Got a bite!” and pulls his fishing rod to his chest, bracing his wading boots against the side of the boat. “Whoa, it’s huge—”
With a big splash, the biggest silvery salmon you’ve ever seen leaps out of the water. It slaps into the bottom of the boat, flopping around, and Cam pulls a knife out of...somewhere and does...something to his catch, you don’t know how fishing works. But your stomach is just about ready to burst out of your body and devour the fish yourself, that’s what you know.
Then, a giant blue mass surges out of the water a heartbeat after the salmon, red fins scattering water in the air. The monster shrieks in frustration—the salmon was probably its prey—and your eyes widen in horror when you meet its angry opaline gaze.
The serpent.
a) Say, [[“You again?”->A31a]]
b) Say, [[“Cam, ROW!”->A31b]]The young man squints at you, as if debating whether it’s worth pressing further. In the end, he decides not to, and he says, “Okay. I hope you get your revenge, whatever that means.” You thank him awkwardly, and the two of you continue rowing out to sea. Though a small part of you thinks it might do you some good to talk about it, the rest of you wants to keep it all bottled up inside. So you will. Majority rules, anyway.
“...Cam,” the young man says, and you glance up at him.
“Hm?”
“That’s my name. Cam.”
“Oh. Vhan.”
“Nice to meet you, Vhan.” He doesn’t seem too thrilled. Disappointed, almost.
[[Continue->A32]]The young man blinks rapidly, and he clears his throat. “Oh. Um...I’m really sorry about that.” You nod and shrug at the same time, which hurts your shoulders. You know crying about it won’t help you, so you suck up all the hurt and let it fester inside. It’s not healthy, but you don’t really have the strength to let it out, either.
“Yeah,” you say.
“...What was your dad doing there?”
You look at the toes of your boots, speckled with sand, as you continue to pull your oar through the deep blue water. If you keep moving, the emotions won’t overflow. “I don’t really know. He said he had something to do there, and...he just never came back.”
The young man starts to row with you, hazel eyes averted. The world gets a little blurry, and for a second you think that your hunger’s really going to do you in for good. But then, a tear runs down your face, and you squeeze your eyes shut and wipe them dry as quickly as you can. Crying is weak.
“...Cam,” the young man whispers.
“...Huh?”
“My name is Cam.”
“...Vhan.”
“Nice to meet you, Vhan.”
[[Continue->A31]]Cam looks up when the serpent’s shadow falls over him, and he scrambles backwards, the boat rocking. “Whoa! That’s—you know this thing?”
“It’s big trouble, and it’s been hungry for a long time,” you say, and the serpent’s four opaline eyes go from you to Cam to the big salmon, now lying still on the bottom of the boat. It’s really, really hungry, just like you.
a) [[Give it the fish.->A31aaa]]
b) [[Protect the fish.->A31aab]]Cam looks up and yelps in shock, scrambling back from his work on the fish. “Whoa!” You push him onto his bench and snatch the grip of your oar.
“Row, I said!” Cam grabs his oar and you start to row, wincing at the pain in your still-empty stomach as the two of you row as fast as you can. The small fishing boat is light and swift, but not fast enough; the serpent slips back under the surface of the sea, the only sign of its presence a flash of its scarlet fins.
“Where’s it going?” Cam asks. “And what is that?”
“It’s a sea serpent, and it’s hungry,” you answer through gasps, forcing yourself to keep rowing. It hurts, but it’ll hurt more if you’re ripped apart by the monster’s jaws. “It’s probably gaining momentum!”
“What do you mean, ‘momentum?’” You crane your neck to see over Cam’s head, and to your relief, the line of land is growing nearer.
“It likes to dive up from under its prey!”
“You’ve seen it before?”
“Yeah, I—” Your words are cut short when a dull crack sounds under your feet, and the wood splinters. The serpent is trying to break the boat from beneath it! You’re in trouble now; if the boat lets in too much water, it’ll sink in the middle of the ocean and you’ll drown. Not only will you not be able to kill Ilmenoth, but Cam will die, too. You’re never losing anyone else important to you again.
“Not this boat,” Cam grumbles, and he starts to row faster, his hazel eyes alight with fear. You never expected someone like him to ever be afraid. “Any boat but this one…!” The two of you row as fast as you can, and you furiously think of something, anything you can do to keep the both of you safe.
a) [[Just keep rowing. You should be able to reach land before the serpent breaks the boat.->A31baa]]
b) [[Stab the serpent when it hits the boat again.->A31bab]]Relinquishing your only meal is the only way to keep your life, and protect Cam. “Sorry, Cam,” you mutter, and you grab the big salmon and toss it up into the air with a grunt. The serpent snaps its jaws around the middle of it and plunges back into the water, soaking you and Cam in cold seawater. Just like that, it’s gone, and the Southern Sea is quiet again.
“...Hey!” Cam cried indignantly, flashing you an angry hazel glare. “That was the biggest catch I’ve ever had!” He scrambles to the side of the boat and peers into the depths of the blue sea, grumbling. “...Well, I guess it beats being serpent food.”
“You still have some of the bait, right?” you ask, and Cam nods, holding up the cracked mussel. It’s still got a chunk of meat in it, probably enough for one or two more catches. “Maybe we’ll get something bigger. But we have to keep rowing, because the serpent might get hungry again. I can see land already.” You point in the distance and Cam squints in that direction, nodding.
“Okay. You row while I fish.” You agree, though you aren’t sure how much longer you can keep using energy before your stomach starts digesting itself.
[[Continue->A33]]You’re just as hungry as the serpent. This fish is yours—just as much as it is Cam’s. You dive for the salmon, throwing your arms over it, and Cam shouts from behind you, “Vhan, what in the world are you—”
You look up, realizing how stupid your hunger has made you, just as the serpent’s jaws engulf you whole. It’s not your fault that you barely had any time or money to get a decent meal, but...come on.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A31a]]
[[Start all over again.->A31aaba]]You’re just about as unconscious as you’ll let yourself be by the time the bottom of the boat skids against rocks, and Cam splashes into the shallow water and drags it onto shore. Your head is spinning from hunger, and you can barely see Cam’s hand when he reaches out to help you onto land. You stumble out of the boat, flopping down face-first on a smooth rock and passing out. Too much exertion in too much time without a decent meal can really do a number on you, you know this now.
When you wake up, your cloak is wrapped up carefully around you, and you can feel the warmth of a crackling fire somewhere behind you. The sky is turning a pretty shade of lavender, one you’ve never seen in Cherry Nook. Over a small fire, Cam is making...a meal.
He sees you staring and hands you a piece of fish on a skewer, his hazel eyes bright with amusement. You probably look like a starved dog. You thank him and sit next to him as you eat, and maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t eaten well in what feels like forever or maybe it’s the fact that you aren’t alone anymore, but the fish tastes like nothing you’ve ever had before. Salmon Wharf and the surrounding area are aptly named; its salmon is plentiful and delicious.
“Well, I don’t think I’ll be going back to Salmon Wharf anytime soon,” Cam says as he takes a bite of his own food, looking out to the blue sea separating him from his home.
“Hm? Why?”
“Well, the serpent for one thing, but…” Cam’s gaze grows distant, sad, almost, and he shrugs and continues eating. You raise an eyebrow in curiosity. You knew there was something up about him.
a) Ask, [[“But what?”->A33a]]
b) Ask, [[“It’s too late in the evening?”->A33b]]
c) Ask, [[“You don’t want to row all by yourself?”->A33c]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A31aab]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]“Let’s keep going!” you cry. “If we’re fast enough, maybe we can make it to shallow water before the boat sinks!” Cam nods vigorously, and the two of you row and row and row. Your heart starts to race when the serpent slams against the bottom of the boat again, and the wood splinters between your feet.
The far shore is getting closer and closer, and when you see a mass of black far in a great copse of trees, your blood runs cold. Ilmenoth’s palace. Never on your journey did you wonder what it looked like, but now you have your answer. Elegant black turrets loom over the canopies, just lines in your vision; it looks way too big for you to search for your father’s killer.
“Vhan!” Cam cries, snapping you out of your stupor. His hazel eyes are filled with panic. “Don’t just sit there—” The both of you jerk backwards when the bottom of the boat splinters some more, and water begins trickling in. It’s already breaking. “Rrgh, if I knew we’d meet a serpent, I wouldn’t have taken your boat, Grandpa…!”
Grandpa? Did this fishing boat belong to Cam’s grandfather? A wave of guilt washes over you when you realize that it wouldn’t have gotten wrecked if you hadn’t asked Cam to help you. Though, when you think back, he had already been standing on the dock; perhaps he had meant to use it, anyway.
“I’m sorry,” you yell over the splashing of your oars as the two of you continue to row towards land. “If I didn’t let this serpent loose, then…” Well, then the people of the first village would have starved. You didn’t have a choice.
“You let this serpent loose?” Cam demands, and the boat suddenly scrapes against something underwater, making the both of you sway. You glance down and see something black under the surface: a rock. The sea is already getting shallower.
And then, the serpent breaks through the bottom of the boat, sending Cam’s salmon and chunks of wood flying. The monster catches the salmon in its jaws and it feels like a whole ten seconds before its entire serpentine body leaps out from between you and Cam, and disappears back into the sea with another huge splash.
Water starts gushing rapidly into the boat, and you gasp, “Come on! We have to jump in!” Cam is looking horrified at the giant hole the serpent made, frozen in place. “...Cam!”
“No…” he whispers, and the water is coming up to your ankles. The boat is sinking. “I...I can’t.” Panic is making your heart race, and you grab his wrist, looking up and seeing how far you’ll have to swim. The sandy shore is too far, and there are some rocks peeking out that you can rest on if need be.
“Come on, Cam! I know this boat was important—” you don’t know why, though “—but we have to leave it behind!”
“I’m afraid of water!” Cam blurts out, burying his face in his hands. The seawater is up to your knees now, almost level to the sides of the boat. “Don’t make me swim!”
[[Help Cam.->A31baaaaa]]You take out your father’s sword, setting it down across your lap as you continue to row. “Are you going to jump in and try to fight that thing?” Cam demands, and you shake your head.
“When it tries to break the boat again, I’m going to stab it!” you yell over the furious rowing and the splashing of your oars. “It probably won’t kill it, but it’ll give us some time!”
You and Cam row and row, and you grab the hilt of your sword a millisecond after the bottom of the boat splinters some more, and water begins trickling in. You let go of your oar, and you plunge your father’s sword downwards between your feet, into the crack forming in the wood. You hear a waterlogged screech, and you grunt as you drive the sword further down into the serpent until the silver guard of your father’s blade is pressed against the wood. You pull your sword back out, and blood spurts out of the small crack your sword made in the boat.
“Nice! Let’s go!” Cam shouts, and you grab your oar and help him row. You look behind you, and see the endless blue sea polluted with blood, dying it a dark, sickly purple.
[[Continue->A33]]You take Cam’s other wrist too, and he looks up at you, his eyes filled with tears. “We don’t have a choice. Don’t be scared, Cam—there’s nothing that’ll hurt us. The serpent’s full, and there’s nothing that’ll want to mess with us when it’s around. I’ll—I’ll protect you!”
Cam takes a deep, shaky breath, and he nods, and the two of you leap into the water. The cold nearly sends you into shock when you plunge under the surface, and you feel Cam grab onto your arm. You open your eyes in the blue Southern Sea, and far away in the corner of your eye, you see great scarlet fins circling in the darker depths.
You swim upwards, and you gasp when you break the surface, choking and treading water. Cam looks terrified, coughing up a mouthful of seawater.
“You okay?”
“Uh...I think so.”
“Okay. Let’s hurry.”
[[Continue->A35]]Cam scrambles onto shore, coughing and gasping, and when you slump into a tide pool—too much exertion in too much time without a decent meal can really do a number on you, you know this now—he grabs you and drags you onto shore with him, falling on his back with you sprawled out over his stomach.
The two of you heave for breath for a while, and then Cam helps you sit up and embraces you tightly, squeezing you so hard you think your spine might snap. Both of you are soggy and cold, but he still feels kind of warm as you hug him back, closing your eyes with exhaustion. You escaped the jaws of death, helped Cam conquer his fears of water; honestly, you’re pretty pleased with yourself. The young man pulls away, his hands still on your shoulders, and his hazel eyes are brimming with tears as he struggles to figure out what to say.
“...Thanks,” he finally rasps. “Thank you.” He seems as if saying those words took a huge toll on him, and he squeezes his teary eyes shut.
“Of course,” you say, and Cam smiles a little and wraps your father’s soggy cloak tighter around you, sniffling. “You think we can find ourselves something to eat? I’m gonna starve to death.”
Cam tells you to sit where you are, and he heads off to the wooded area further inland to forage for berries or something. You wring the water out of your father’s cloak, looking around you; the sky is turning a pretty shade of lavender, one you’ve never seen in Cherry Nook. Though you know there is only one sky, it feels like the one you’re sitting under now is a completely different one from the one you had lived your whole life beneath.
Sometime later, Cam returns with a pouch made of a folded-up giant leaf. He opens it to reveal some purplish berries with white flecks, explaining, “These are nicknamed adrenaline berries. They’re pretty tasty, and they give you lots of energy.” You thank him and sit next to him as he takes a handful, and maybe it’s the fact that you haven’t eaten well in what feels like forever or maybe it’s the fact that you aren’t alone anymore, but these “adrenaline berries” tastes like nothing you’ve ever had before. They’re super sweet, and almost immediately, you feel really, really energetic. It’s a bit nauseating, and you decide not to eat too much too quickly.
“Well, I don’t think I’ll be going back to Salmon Wharf anytime soon,” Cam says as he works on a mouthful of berries, looking out to the blue sea separating him from his home.
“Hm? Why?”
“Well, I don’t have a boat for one thing, though I could probably hitch a ride on someone else’s. But…” Cam’s gaze grows distant, sad, almost, and he shrugs and continues eating. You raise an eyebrow in curiosity. You knew there was something up about him.
a) Ask, [[“But what?”->A35a]]
b) Ask, [[“It’s too late in the evening?”->A35b]]
c) Ask, [[“You don’t want to row all by yourself?”->A35c]]Cam chews thoughtfully, then swallows and answers, “I was...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a pin-bone and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam looks into the fire, then snaps his skewer in half and tosses it into the small pile of smoldering sticks. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A33aa]]Cam laughs a little. “Not what I was thinking of, but you’re right, I guess.” He still looks troubled, so you wait until he decides to speak again. “...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a pin-bone and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam looks into the fire, then snaps his skewer in half and tosses it into the small pile of smoldering sticks. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A33aa]]Cam laughs, and your heart almost explodes. “I don’t, but that’s not what I was thinking of.” He still looks troubled despite his smile, so you wait until he decides to speak again. “I was...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a pin-bone and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam looks into the fire, then snaps his skewer in half and tosses it into the small pile of smoldering sticks. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A33aa]]Cam sighs, and when you open your eyes again, he’s wiping his face with the back of his hand. Maybe he was crying. “...Okay, I guess. Thanks, Vhan.”
You smile and tentatively hold out your arms, and Cam snorts, hazel gaze glistening, and he slumps against your chest and wraps his arms around you. “When you can, you should go back home,” you tell him. “If a merchant ship is traveling to Salmon Wharf, see if you can tag along.”
“What about you, then?” Cam asks, and you wish he hadn’t asked that. “What will you do, when it’s your time to go home? After whatever you’re doing, that is.”
a) [[Cherry Nook.->A33aaa]]
b) [[Salmon Wharf.->A33aab]]
c) [[No idea.->A33aac]]“...I think I’ll go back to my hometown,” you say, sitting back as Cam lets go of you. “When I’m done with my...business here, I want to pay respects to the folks I grew up with. Maybe I’ll go somewhere else after that, but that’s a whole other discussion.”
Cam grins, and even though you just ate a big meal, it makes you feel kind of faint. “Well, good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to, then. I’m guessing you have to go now?” You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he shakes your hand. “Bye, Vhan.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to the mainland with Cam. You smile at him, not really wanting to let go of his hand. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A37]]“Hmm...maybe I’ll come and live at Salmon Wharf, if they’ll have me,” you say, and Cam grins. Even though you just ate a big meal, it makes you feel kind of faint. “I think I’ll want to say goodbye to the folks of my hometown first.”
“They’d love it if you came,” Cam tells you. “I’m guessing you’re some kind of adventurer? The little kids would love to hear all your stories and antics, and you can help out when we fish.” The young man chuckles a little, looking down. “Grandpa’s like that, too.”
You smile, squeezing your hands tightly together in your lap. “I’ll make sure to have an epic last battle then, so we can tell him the best story he’s ever heard together.” Cam’s shoulders shake with a quiet laugh, and he hugs you again. He doesn’t thank you, but he doesn’t need to. You can tell he means it.
“Good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to. I’m guessing you have to go now?” he asks. You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he shakes your hand. “Bye, Vhan.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to Salmon Wharf with Cam. You smile at him, not really wanting to let go of his hand. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A38]]“...I dunno,” you admit. You’ve never thought of what would come after you avenge your father: your path seems to just end there. “Wherever the wind takes me, I guess.” Cam grins, and even though you just ate a big meal, it makes you feel kind of faint. “I think I’ll want to say goodbye to the folks of my hometown first.”
“A journey of self-discovery?” Cam says jokingly, and half of you wants to laugh, but the other half begins to ponder. Yeah. You guess you could call it one of those.
“Maybe. Who knows?” You certainly don’t.
“Well, good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to. I’m guessing you have to go now?” he asks. You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he shakes your hand. “Bye, Vhan.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to the mainland with Cam. You smile at him, not really wanting to let go of his hand. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A39]]The canopy overhead is thick, and the only sunlight that reaches you comes in the form of tiny flecks of light on your father’s drying cloak. It feels kind of crispy from the seawater, which is not a nice sensation.
You make your way under low branches and crawl over fallen logs, careful to mind the poison ivy; you can see some light between the trees before you, and as you hurry over and peer through them, you can see it. Ilmenoth’s palace.
It feels thousands of times bigger than you had first expected; its base seems larger than the pocket of sea the serpent had been trapped in. It’s made of sleek black marble, towering high over even the tallest of trees. You feel a prickle of unease at the size of the palace. How in the world are you going to get in that thing without losing your way? You take out your father’s sword, clutching its hilt tightly to steady yourself. Your father once held this same blade, and he was brave enough to face Ilmenoth. If he could do it, then so can you. And for him, you’ll make it out alive.
There are four guards standing in front of the grand black doors, wearing silver armor and brandishing silver lances. If there are people living outside the forest, they probably don’t mess with Ilmenoth because of these giant hunks of metal. It’s best if you don’t tangle with them, either. You watch them from within the trees, waiting for them to make a move. But they just kind of stand there, and for a second, you wonder they’re statues.
A heartbeat before you step out into the sunlight, a bee bumps into one of the guards’ helms, and you stumble backwards into the undergrowth when the guy waves it away. They aren’t statues, after all. You gasp when another one of them raises his lance, calling, “Did you hear that?”
“In the forest? Yeah. Probably a deer or something.”
“We should check it out.”
“Nah, it’s not worth it.”
The guards stand very still again, and you tap your chin with a finger as you try and hatch a plan. You’ve got to get yourself in that palace somehow.
a) [[Rush at the guards, sword at the ready.->A37a]]
b) [[Get the guards away from their posts.->A37b]]The canopy overhead is thick, and the only sunlight that reaches you comes in the form of tiny flecks of light on your father’s drying cloak. It feels kind of crispy from the seawater, which is not a nice sensation.
You make your way under low branches and crawl over fallen logs, careful to mind the poison ivy; you can see some light between the trees before you, and as you hurry over and peer through them, you can see it. Ilmenoth’s palace.
It feels thousands of times bigger than you had first expected; its base seems larger than the pocket of sea the serpent had been trapped in. It’s made of sleek black marble, towering high over even the tallest of trees. You feel a prickle of unease at the size of the palace. How in the world are you going to get in that thing without losing your way? You take out your father’s sword, clutching its hilt tightly to steady yourself. Your father once held this same blade, and he was brave enough to face Ilmenoth. If he could do it, then so can you. And for him, you’ll make it out alive.
There are four guards standing in front of the grand black doors, wearing silver armor and brandishing silver lances. If there are people living outside the forest, they probably don’t mess with Ilmenoth because of these giant hunks of metal. It’s best if you don’t tangle with them, either. You watch them from within the trees, waiting for them to make a move. But they just kind of stand there, and for a second, you wonder they’re statues.
A heartbeat before you step out into the sunlight, a bee bumps into one of the guards’ helms, and you stumble backwards into the undergrowth when the guy waves it away. They aren’t statues, after all. You gasp when another one of them raises his lance, calling, “Did you hear that?”
“In the forest? Yeah. Probably a deer or something.”
“We should check it out.”
“Nah, it’s not worth it.”
The guards stand very still again, and you tap your chin with a finger as you try and hatch a plan. You’ve got to get yourself in that palace somehow.
a) [[Rush at the guards, sword at the ready.->A38a]]
b) [[Get the guards away from their posts.->A38b]]The canopy overhead is thick, and the only sunlight that reaches you comes in the form of tiny flecks of light on your father’s drying cloak. It feels kind of crispy from the seawater, which is not a nice sensation.
You make your way under low branches and crawl over fallen logs, careful to mind the poison ivy; you can see some light between the trees before you, and as you hurry over and peer through them, you can see it. Ilmenoth’s palace.
It feels thousands of times bigger than you had first expected; its base seems larger than the pocket of sea the serpent had been trapped in. It’s made of sleek black marble, towering high over even the tallest of trees. You feel a prickle of unease at the size of the palace. How in the world are you going to get in that thing without losing your way? You take out your father’s sword, clutching its hilt tightly to steady yourself. Your father once held this same blade, and he was brave enough to face Ilmenoth. If he could do it, then so can you. And for him, you’ll make it out alive.
There are four guards standing in front of the grand black doors, wearing silver armor and brandishing silver lances. If there are people living outside the forest, they probably don’t mess with Ilmenoth because of these giant hunks of metal. It’s best if you don’t tangle with them, either. You watch them from within the trees, waiting for them to make a move. But they just kind of stand there, and for a second, you wonder they’re statues.
A heartbeat before you step out into the sunlight, a bee bumps into one of the guards’ helms, and you stumble backwards into the undergrowth when the guy waves it away. They aren’t statues, after all. You gasp when another one of them raises his lance, calling, “Did you hear that?”
“In the forest? Yeah. Probably a deer or something.”
“We should check it out.”
“Nah, it’s not worth it.”
The guards stand very still again, and you tap your chin with a finger as you try and hatch a plan. You’ve got to get yourself in that palace somehow.
a) [[Rush at the guards, sword at the ready.->A39a]]
b) [[Get the guards away from their posts.->A39b]]Cam chews thoughtfully, then swallows and answers, “I was...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a small stem and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam stares down at his sandy wading boots, and he crushes an adrenaline berry in his hand. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A35aa]]Cam laughs a little. “Not what I was thinking of, but you’re right, I guess.” He still looks troubled, so you wait until he decides to speak again. “...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a small stem and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam stares down at his sandy wading boots, and he crushes an adrenaline berry in his hand. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A35aa]]Cam laughs, and your heart almost explodes. “I don’t, but that’s not what I was thinking of.” He still looks troubled despite his smile, so you wait until he decides to speak again. “I was...I was planning to run away from Salmon Wharf in the first place. I’ve been wanting to for weeks now, but...I was never brave enough until you came along.”
You feel your face get a little warm. “Me? Why am I so important?”
“You needed someone to take you far away, and I wanted to go far away. It all worked out.” Cam sticks out his tongue, picking off a small stem and flicking it into the rocks the two of you are sitting on. “But now that I am away, I’m not sure if I should stay away.” Cam glances at you briefly, and his pretty hazel eyes are sad. “I kind of want to go home.”
“Why did you want to run away?”
Cam stares down at his sandy wading boots, and he crushes an adrenaline berry in his hand. “My grandfather. He’s sick, and...the village doctors say he isn’t going to live much longer.” You gasp, and place a hand on his shoulder.
“Cam, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he shrugs again. “But why would you want to run away? You—you should spend as much time as you can with your grandfather while he’s still with you.” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I know how much losing someone hurts. I do. But it’s going to happen. You should treasure the moments you have left with your grandfather, not run away from the...inevitable.”
You had tried to run away before, when you first learned of your father’s death. You didn’t have the chances to cherish your last moments with him.
[[Continue->A35aa]]Cam sighs, and when you open your eyes again, he’s wiping his face with the back of his hand. Maybe he was crying. “...Okay, I guess. Thanks, Vhan.”
You smile and tentatively hold out your arms, and Cam snorts, hazel gaze glistening, and he slumps against your chest and wraps his arms around you. “When you can, you should go back home,” you tell him. “If a merchant ship is traveling to Salmon Wharf, see if you can tag along.”
“What about you, then?” Cam asks, and you wish he hadn’t asked that. “What will you do, when it’s your time to go home? After whatever you’re doing, that is.”
a) [[Cherry Nook.->A35aaa]]
b) [[Salmon Wharf.->A35aab]]
c) [[No idea.->A35aac]]“...I think I’ll go back to my hometown,” you say, sitting back as Cam lets go of you. “When I’m done with my...business here, I want to pay respects to the folks I grew up with. Maybe I’ll go somewhere else after that, but that’s a whole other discussion.”
Cam grins, and even though you just ate a ton of adrenaline berries, it makes you feel kind of faint. “Well, good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to, then. I’m guessing you have to go now?” You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he pulls you back down and hugs you tightly again. “Bye, Vhan. Thanks, again...really.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to the mainland with Cam. You smile into his shoulder, not really wanting to let go of him. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A37]]“Hmm...maybe I’ll come and live at Salmon Wharf, if they’ll have me,” you say, and Cam grins. Even though you just ate a ton of adrenaline berries, it makes you feel kind of faint. “I think I’ll want to say goodbye to the folks of my hometown first.”
“They’d love it if you came,” Cam tells you. “I’m guessing you’re some kind of adventurer? The little kids would love to hear all your stories and antics, and you can help out when we fish.” The young man chuckles a little, looking down. “Grandpa’s like that, too.”
You smile, squeezing your hands tightly together in your lap. “I’ll make sure to have an epic last battle then, so we can tell him the best story he’s ever heard together.” Cam’s shoulders shake with a quiet laugh, and he hugs you again. He doesn’t thank you, but he doesn’t need to. You can tell he means it.
“Good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to. I’m guessing you have to go now?” he asks. You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he shakes your hand. You both laugh, and he pulls you back down and hugs you tightly again. “Bye, Vhan. Thanks, again...really.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to Salmon Wharf with Cam. You smile into his shoulder, not really wanting to let go of him. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A38]]“...I dunno,” you admit. You’ve never thought of what would come after you avenge your father: your path seems to just end there. “Wherever the wind takes me, I guess.” Cam grins, and even though you just ate a ton of adrenaline berries, it makes you feel kind of faint. “I think I’ll want to say goodbye to the folks of my hometown first.”
“A journey of self-discovery?” Cam says jokingly, and half of you wants to laugh, but the other half begins to ponder. Yeah. You guess you could call it one of those.
“Maybe. Who knows?” You certainly don’t.
“Well, good luck with whatever you’re going to be up to. I’m guessing you have to go now?” he asks. You look up at the darkening sky, and you nod, getting to your feet.
“Yeah.” Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will get your revenge. “...Are you going to be okay just by yourself here?”
Cam nods. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty hardy, if I do say so myself.” You both laugh, and he shakes your hand. “You both laugh, and he pulls you back down and hugs you tightly again. “Bye, Vhan. Thanks, again...really.”
Parting has never been sweeter sorrow than your parting with him. Maybe if you give Ilmenoth the mercy of a quick death, you can catch a ride back to the mainland with Cam. You smile into his shoulder, not really wanting to let go of him. “Bye, Cam.”
[[Continue->A39]]You decide to just run right at the guards. Not tangling with them is too hard, and besides, your trusty blade can easily cut right through them. Taking a deep breath, you charge out of the undergrowth with a furious battle cry. One of the guards yelps, readying his lance, and one of the other ones (whom you’re guessing is more experienced) charges at you, returning the battle cry. You duck when she stabs at you with her lance, and it goes right over your head. You swing your father’s sword in an arc, splitting the wooden shaft of the lance in half into a stick and something that looks like a very thick arrow.
The other three guards run at you, and you dodge the first lance, parry the second, and nearly get impaled by the third. You shove it back with the edge of your sword while the guard tries to shove it towards you. Or, really, into you. You stumble backwards and fall onto the ground, slicing the head off the lance before it could plunge into you. These are some shoddy lances, if their shafts are made of wood.
The other two guards are down in a matter of minutes, and you stand triumphantly before Ilmenoth’s palace, the four armored guards knocked out on the ground.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A40]]You decide that the best way to get past the guards is to get them away from the palace door. You look around you, wondering how you can do that, and you realize that there’s a whole giant forest behind you. If you can lure them in here, you can buy yourself time to sneak into the palace.
You leap out from behind the tree in front of you, yelling, “Hey, over here!” before darting back into your hiding place.
You hear one of the guards say, “I knew there was something fishy going on there! Come on!” You hear four pairs of tromping boots, and you scramble up the tree, holding onto a low branch hidden by leaves. When they go into the woods, you can run past them. They won’t even notice a thing.
You hold your breath as the four guards enter the woods, calling, “Hey, where are you, you little punk?” You can see the tops of their silver helms as they walk past the tree you’re hiding in, and when they vanish deeper into the forest, you leap down onto the ground as quietly as you can. All that’s before you is Ilmenoth’s palace, unguarded and without a single other obstacle in sight.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A40]]You push through the door of the black marble palace—it was unlocked—and close it as carefully as you can behind you. You take in your surroundings, sucking in a breath of apprehension. The inside of the palace feels even bigger than the outside; the black marble swallows you up like a shadow, the only light coming through two dusty arched windows on either side of a tall black staircase. You look up, following each step with your eyes, and see that it stops at an opened doorway. You know who’s hiding there.
You steady yourself: it’s finally time. After so many years, your father’s death will finally be avenged. You make your way swiftly but quietly up the black staircase, trying to keep your hands from trembling. Soon, it’ll be over, and you will be home again, and the world—and your heart—will be free of a great evil.
You slow down when you arrive at the top of the staircase, creeping quietly through the doorway. It leads into an illuminated sunroom, the windows forming bright shapes on the sparkling black marble floors. The setting sun has dyed the sky a beautiful shade of pinkish red, like the petals of a rose. And for just a heartbeat, you’re lost in the beauty of the light dancing on the smooth stone. Then, you hear a voice that makes your blood run cold.
“...Well, well, well. You truly do take after your father, Vhan.”
You flinch, brandishing your father’s blade and whiping around to face the owner of the voice. A tall, slender figure cloaked in black is standing on the other side of the dark, half-sunlit chamber, like a fragment of shadow that came to life. His face is twisted in an evil smile, and his dark eyes—the color of a deep, cold night—glint in the shade of his black cloak’s hood.
Ilmenoth. Your father’s killer.
a) [[“You...”->A40aa]]
b) [[“You’re uglier than I imagined.”->A40ba]]
c) [[“You took everything from me.”->A40ca]]“This is my grand palace, after all.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A41]]“I am honored to always be in your thoughts.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A41]]“Everything? Well now, I did not know that old man meant so much to you.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A41]]“Careful now, little hero,” Ilmenoth sneers, and pain scorches through your arm when you try to jab your sword into his back. The point of it is barely brushing his spine. “Do not underestimate my powers; do not make the same mistake as your father.” You grit your teeth in hatred when he turns around, staring down at you with sick amusement.
“You don’t play fair,” you snarl, curling your free hand into a tight fist. Ilmenoth throws his head back and laughs, //laughs//, like he’s being threatened by a child.
“I don’t //need// to play fair,” Ilmenoth tells you, and in his glee, his magic weakens for just an instant. “When you have become an emissary of the darkness such as I, there is no such thing as fairness. All are below me, in the shadows cast by my unrivaled, ultimate power!”
You tear your fist out of the dark magic’s grasp, wincing at the pain, and strike Ilmenoth in an uppercut that sends him stumbling backwards, and you fall to the ground too, the dark magic imprisoning you now faded in the moment of Ilmenoth’s distraction. You scramble to your feet, your limbs weakened by the dark mage’s spell, and you grip your father’s sword and lunge forward to kill Ilmenoth; but you hear a clang and dark violet sparks fly into your face, and they burn into your skin as Ilmenoth blocks your attack with a sword of his own, forged by his magic. He looks furious, humiliated, with a bruise on the underside of his chin.
You grin smugly, and Ilmenoth’s night-dark eyes narrow with anger. You’d rather him hate you than look down on you, and you find strength returning to your limbs. Maybe it’s the magic wearing off, or your father watching over you. Either way, your newfound strength helps you drive Ilmenoth backwards, but he resists, gritting his teeth as the edge of your father’s blade sparks against the edge of his.
“Impressive, little hero,” Ilmenoth hisses, “but you are still no match for me.”
“We’ll see what you think when you’re dead,” you say back, and when you try to hook your blade and disarm the dark mage, your weapon slashes right through the magic and his dark sword reforms, nearly slicing you in half. You can’t disarm him, because his weapon is made of magic; the only thing that could possibly destroy it would be something that could dispel shadow.
You gasp, and you look behind Ilmenoth and at the black marble illuminated by the setting sun’s light. Light. You take a deep breath and leap at him again, your weapons clashing, and you push him back with all your might. Ilmenoth stumbles, and you nudge him closer and closer to the light, until the very hem of his dark cloak is bathed in it.
With one last cry of exertion, you shove Ilmenoth backwards, and he falls into the light of the setting sun. His dark sword dissolves, and he gasps, cursing. Spell after spell, he rambles through his whole vocabulary, and you realize that if he makes it back into the darkness, it’s over for you. You’ve humiliated him so much, he is no longer willing to hold back.
You charge into the light of the sun, the sky as scarlet as the serpent’s fins, and Ilmenoth’s dark eyes widen with horror as you shout out the last words he will ever hear.
a) [[“Be purged, you wretch!”->A41a]]
b) [[“For all the light your darkness has stolen!”->A41a]]
c) [[“For my father!”->A41a]]The gleaming silver edge of your father’s sword plunges into Ilmenoth’s chest, and the dark mage does not scream or gasp; he just stares at you, and the palace is silent, save for your gasping, and the pounding of your blood in your ears.
It’s over now.
A shaky smile finds its way onto Ilmenoth’s face, and he rasps, “...How much like your father you are, Vhan.”
“How do you know my name?” you whisper, your hands shaking as they cling to your father’s sword.
Ilmenoth’s night eyes begin to dull as he starts to die. “...He spoke of you...you were his pride—his joy...” His head falls back, and he slumps to the ground. “...He begged for your forgiveness...”
He stops speaking, his eyes closed. He is still smiling. You pull your sword out of Ilmenoth’s chest, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the dark blood staining its edge. You fall to your knees, holding your father’s blade close to you.
“...I forgive you, Father,” you say, and your eyes brim with tears as you sniffle and rest your forehead against the flat of your father’s blade. He had held it with you once, and you never forgot the warmth, the callouses on his hands as he wrapped your little fingers around the hilt. “It’s over now.”
[[Epilogue->EP37]]EPILOGUE
Vhan returns to Cherry Nook after the defeat of Ilmenoth, their father finally avenged at last. The villagefolk greet them and hail them as a hero, and throw a grand celebration in a remote area of the village Vhan has never seen before. In the center of an old alcove, surrounded by mossy cobble, is the statue of Cherry Nook’s legendary village hero. His plaque reads ANDRIN THE FOOLHARDY, and oddly, Vhan sees a little bit of themself in the hero’s face. The people of Cherry Nook know why, but Vhan might never connect the dots.
Vhan is forever heralded in Cherry Nook as Vhan Irvin, Heir of the Hero, and their tale is told to every child in the village for generations.
The End
(Thanks for playing!)You decide to just run right at the guards. Not tangling with them is too hard, and besides, your trusty blade can easily cut right through them. Taking a deep breath, you charge out of the undergrowth with a furious battle cry. One of the guards yelps, readying his lance, and one of the other ones (whom you’re guessing is more experienced) charges at you, returning the battle cry. You duck when she stabs at you with her lance, and it goes right over your head. You swing your father’s sword in an arc, splitting the wooden shaft of the lance in half into a stick and something that looks like a very thick arrow.
The other three guards run at you, and you dodge the first lance, parry the second, and nearly get impaled by the third. You shove it back with the edge of your sword while the guard tries to shove it towards you. Or, really, into you. You stumble backwards and fall onto the ground, slicing the head off the lance before it could plunge into you. These are some shoddy lances, if their shafts are made of wood.
The other two guards are down in a matter of minutes, and you stand triumphantly before Ilmenoth’s palace, the four armored guards knocked out on the ground.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A42]]You decide that the best way to get past the guards is to get them away from the palace door. You look around you, wondering how you can do that, and you realize that there’s a whole giant forest behind you. If you can lure them in here, you can buy yourself time to sneak into the palace.
You leap out from behind the tree in front of you, yelling, “Hey, over here!” before darting back into your hiding place.
You hear one of the guards say, “I knew there was something fishy going on there! Come on!” You hear four pairs of tromping boots, and you scramble up the tree, holding onto a low branch hidden by leaves. When they go into the woods, you can run past them. They won’t even notice a thing.
You hold your breath as the four guards enter the woods, calling, “Hey, where are you, you little punk?” You can see the tops of their silver helms as they walk past the tree you’re hiding in, and when they vanish deeper into the forest, you leap down onto the ground as quietly as you can. All that’s before you is Ilmenoth’s palace, unguarded and without a single other obstacle in sight.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A42]]You push through the door of the black marble palace—it was unlocked—and close it as carefully as you can behind you. You take in your surroundings, sucking in a breath of apprehension. The inside of the palace feels even bigger than the outside; the black marble swallows you up like a shadow, the only light coming through two dusty arched windows on either side of a tall black staircase. You look up, following each step with your eyes, and see that it stops at an opened doorway. You know who’s hiding there.
You steady yourself: it’s finally time. After so many years, your father’s death will finally be avenged. You make your way swiftly but quietly up the black staircase, trying to keep your hands from trembling. Soon, it’ll be over, and you will be home again, and the world—and your heart—will be free of a great evil.
You slow down when you arrive at the top of the staircase, creeping quietly through the doorway. It leads into an illuminated sunroom, the windows forming bright shapes on the sparkling black marble floors. The setting sun has dyed the sky a beautiful shade of pinkish red, like the petals of a rose. And for just a heartbeat, you’re lost in the beauty of the light dancing on the smooth stone. Then, you hear a voice that makes your blood run cold.
“...Well, well, well. You truly do take after your father, Vhan.”
You flinch, brandishing your father’s blade and whiping around to face the owner of the voice. A tall, slender figure cloaked in black is standing on the other side of the dark, half-sunlit chamber, like a fragment of shadow that came to life. His face is twisted in an evil smile, and his dark eyes—the color of a deep, cold night—glint in the shade of his black cloak’s hood.
Ilmenoth. Your father’s killer.
a) [[“You...”->A42aa]]
b) [[“You’re uglier than I imagined.”->A42ba]]
c) [[“You took everything from me.”->A42ca]]“This is my grand palace, after all.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A43]]“I am honored to always be in your thoughts.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A43]]“Everything? Well now, I did not know that old man meant so much to you.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A43]]“Careful now, little hero,” Ilmenoth sneers, and pain scorches through your arm when you try to jab your sword into his back. The point of it is barely brushing his spine. “Do not underestimate my powers; do not make the same mistake as your father.” You grit your teeth in hatred when he turns around, staring down at you with sick amusement.
“You don’t play fair,” you snarl, curling your free hand into a tight fist. Ilmenoth throws his head back and laughs, //laughs//, like he’s being threatened by a child.
“I don’t //need// to play fair,” Ilmenoth tells you, and in his glee, his magic weakens for just an instant. “When you have become an emissary of the darkness such as I, there is no such thing as fairness. All are below me, in the shadows cast by my unrivaled, ultimate power!”
You tear your fist out of the dark magic’s grasp, wincing at the pain, and strike Ilmenoth in an uppercut that sends him stumbling backwards, and you fall to the ground too, the dark magic imprisoning you now faded in the moment of Ilmenoth’s distraction. You scramble to your feet, your limbs weakened by the dark mage’s spell, and you grip your father’s sword and lunge forward to kill Ilmenoth; but you hear a clang and dark violet sparks fly into your face, and they burn into your skin as Ilmenoth blocks your attack with a sword of his own, forged by his magic. He looks furious, humiliated, with a bruise on the underside of his chin.
You grin smugly, and Ilmenoth’s night-dark eyes narrow with anger. You’d rather him hate you than look down on you, and you find strength returning to your limbs. Maybe it’s the magic wearing off, or your father watching over you. Either way, your newfound strength helps you drive Ilmenoth backwards, but he resists, gritting his teeth as the edge of your father’s blade sparks against the edge of his.
“Impressive, little hero,” Ilmenoth hisses, “but you are still no match for me.”
“We’ll see what you think when you’re dead,” you say back, and when you try to hook your blade and disarm the dark mage, your weapon slashes right through the magic and his dark sword reforms, nearly slicing you in half. You can’t disarm him, because his weapon is made of magic; the only thing that could possibly destroy it would be something that could dispel shadow.
You gasp, and you look behind Ilmenoth and at the black marble illuminated by the setting sun’s light. Light. You take a deep breath and leap at him again, your weapons clashing, and you push him back with all your might. Ilmenoth stumbles, and you nudge him closer and closer to the light, until the very hem of his dark cloak is bathed in it.
With one last cry of exertion, you shove Ilmenoth backwards, and he falls into the light of the setting sun. His dark sword dissolves, and he gasps, cursing. Spell after spell, he rambles through his whole vocabulary, and you realize that if he makes it back into the darkness, it’s over for you. You’ve humiliated him so much, he is no longer willing to hold back.
You charge into the light of the sun, the sky as scarlet as the serpent’s fins, and Ilmenoth’s dark eyes widen with horror as you shout out the last words he will ever hear.
a) [[“Be purged, you wretch!”->A43a]]
b) [[“For all the light your darkness has stolen!”->A43a]]
c) [[“For my father!”->A43a]]The gleaming silver edge of your father’s sword plunges into Ilmenoth’s chest, and the dark mage does not scream or gasp; he just stares at you, and the palace is silent, save for your gasping, and the pounding of your blood in your ears.
It’s over now.
A shaky smile finds its way onto Ilmenoth’s face, and he rasps, “...How much like your father you are, Vhan.”
“How do you know my name?” you whisper, your hands shaking as they cling to your father’s sword.
Ilmenoth’s night eyes begin to dull as he starts to die. “...He spoke of you...you were his pride—his joy…” His head falls back, and he slumps to the ground. “...He begged for your forgiveness…”
He stops speaking, his eyes closed. He is still smiling. You pull your sword out of Ilmenoth’s chest, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the dark blood staining its edge. You fall to your knees, holding your father’s blade close to you.
“...I forgive you, Father,” you say, and your eyes brim with tears as you sniffle and rest your forehead against the flat of your father’s blade. He had held it with you once, and you never forgot the warmth, the callouses on his hands as he wrapped your little fingers around the hilt. “It’s over now.”
[[Epilogue->EP38]]EPILOGUE
Vhan returns to Cherry Nook after the defeat of Ilmenoth, their father finally avenged at last. The villagefolk greet them and hail them as a hero, and throw a grand celebration in a remote area of the village Vhan has never seen before. In the center of an old alcove, surrounded by mossy cobble, is the statue of Cherry Nook’s legendary village hero. His plaque reads ANDRIN THE FOOLHARDY, and oddly, Vhan sees a little bit of themself in the hero’s face. The people of Cherry Nook know why, but Vhan might never connect the dots.
Vhan is forever known as Vhan Irvin, Heir of the Hero, and their tale is told to every child in Cherry Nook for generations. But Vhan does not stay there; instead, they take their things—their father’s books, cloak, and sword—and vanish hours after their hometown’s celebration. Though no one knows for sure where Vhan went, rumor has it that a young fisherman on the other side of the Evergreen Mountains was once spotted carving a wooden boat by the sea with a dear companion, the hero bearing Andrin the Foolhardy’s blade.
The End
(Thanks for playing!)You decide to just run right at the guards. Not tangling with them is too hard, and besides, your trusty blade can easily cut right through them. Taking a deep breath, you charge out of the undergrowth with a furious battle cry. One of the guards yelps, readying his lance, and one of the other ones (whom you’re guessing is more experienced) charges at you, returning the battle cry. You duck when she stabs at you with her lance, and it goes right over your head. You swing your father’s sword in an arc, splitting the wooden shaft of the lance in half into a stick and something that looks like a very thick arrow.
The other three guards run at you, and you dodge the first lance, parry the second, and nearly get impaled by the third. You shove it back with the edge of your sword while the guard tries to shove it towards you. Or, really, into you. You stumble backwards and fall onto the ground, slicing the head off the lance before it could plunge into you. These are some shoddy lances, if their shafts are made of wood.
The other two guards are down in a matter of minutes, and you stand triumphantly before Ilmenoth’s palace, the four armored guards knocked out on the ground.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A45]]You decide that the best way to get past the guards is to get them away from the palace door. You look around you, wondering how you can do that, and you realize that there’s a whole giant forest behind you. If you can lure them in here, you can buy yourself time to sneak into the palace.
You leap out from behind the tree in front of you, yelling, “Hey, over here!” before darting back into your hiding place.
You hear one of the guards say, “I knew there was something fishy going on there! Come on!” You hear four pairs of tromping boots, and you scramble up the tree, holding onto a low branch hidden by leaves. When they go into the woods, you can run past them. They won’t even notice a thing.
You hold your breath as the four guards enter the woods, calling, “Hey, where are you, you little punk?” You can see the tops of their silver helms as they walk past the tree you’re hiding in, and when they vanish deeper into the forest, you leap down onto the ground as quietly as you can. All that’s before you is Ilmenoth’s palace, unguarded and without a single other obstacle in sight.
Not bad.
[[Continue->A45]]You push through the door of the black marble palace—it was unlocked—and close it as carefully as you can behind you. You take in your surroundings, sucking in a breath of apprehension. The inside of the palace feels even bigger than the outside; the black marble swallows you up like a shadow, the only light coming through two dusty arched windows on either side of a tall black staircase. You look up, following each step with your eyes, and see that it stops at an opened doorway. You know who’s hiding there.
You steady yourself: it’s finally time. After so many years, your father’s death will finally be avenged. You make your way swiftly but quietly up the black staircase, trying to keep your hands from trembling. Soon, it’ll be over, and you will be home again, and the world—and your heart—will be free of a great evil.
You slow down when you arrive at the top of the staircase, creeping quietly through the doorway. It leads into an illuminated sunroom, the windows forming bright shapes on the sparkling black marble floors. The setting sun has dyed the sky a beautiful shade of pinkish red, like the petals of a rose. And for just a heartbeat, you’re lost in the beauty of the light dancing on the smooth stone. Then, you hear a voice that makes your blood run cold.
“...Well, well, well. You truly do take after your father, Vhan.”
You flinch, brandishing your father’s blade and whiping around to face the owner of the voice. A tall, slender figure cloaked in black is standing on the other side of the dark, half-sunlit chamber, like a fragment of shadow that came to life. His face is twisted in an evil smile, and his dark eyes—the color of a deep, cold night—glint in the shade of his black cloak’s hood.
Ilmenoth. Your father’s killer.
a) [[“You...”->A45aa]]
b) [[“You’re uglier than I imagined.”->A45ba]]
c) [[“You took everything from me.”->A45ca]]“This is my grand palace, after all.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A46]]“I am honored to always be in your thoughts.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A46]]“Everything? Well now, I did not know that old man meant so much to you.” Ilmenoth grins, and you just want to rip his wretched face off his head. “Have you come all the way from your crib to find me, little hero?”
“I scaled mountains and crossed seas,” you say, your voice low and even. All the hate you feel has boiled down to an eerie calm. “Not even an orc or a serpent or your poison could stop me.”
Ilmenoth raises an eyebrow, stroking his chin, and he turns his back on you, chuckling. “My, my. How you must have wounded my poor pets’ pride.” A chill runs down your spine, followed by a flash of red hot anger. The orc, the serpent; they were both sent to destroy you by Ilmenoth. The thought of all the lives needlessly lost because of these monsters—the orc, the serpent, Ilmenoth—makes you sick. This isn’t just about your father anymore. This is about all the innocent people who fell victim to Ilmenoth’s schemes.
You lunge at the dark mage, shouting, “Die!” and for some reason, he doesn’t turn around. You run across the sunlit black marble, leaping in and out of shadow, and a millisecond before you can stab your father’s sword into Ilmenoth’s back, you freeze. No, you don’t freeze—something freezes you. Sparks of purple flame flit in the air around you, like embers do around a flame. Dark magic.
[[Continue->A46]]“Careful now, little hero,” Ilmenoth sneers, and pain scorches through your arm when you try to jab your sword into his back. The point of it is barely brushing his spine. “Do not underestimate my powers; do not make the same mistake as your father.” You grit your teeth in hatred when he turns around, staring down at you with sick amusement.
“You don’t play fair,” you snarl, curling your free hand into a tight fist. Ilmenoth throws his head back and laughs, //laughs//, like he’s being threatened by a child.
“I don’t //need// to play fair,” Ilmenoth tells you, and in his glee, his magic weakens for just an instant. “When you have become an emissary of the darkness such as I, there is no such thing as fairness. All are below me, in the shadows cast by my unrivaled, ultimate power!”
You tear your fist out of the dark magic’s grasp, wincing at the pain, and strike Ilmenoth in an uppercut that sends him stumbling backwards, and you fall to the ground too, the dark magic imprisoning you now faded in the moment of Ilmenoth’s distraction. You scramble to your feet, your limbs weakened by the dark mage’s spell, and you grip your father’s sword and lunge forward to kill Ilmenoth; but you hear a clang and dark violet sparks fly into your face, and they burn into your skin as Ilmenoth blocks your attack with a sword of his own, forged by his magic. He looks furious, humiliated, with a bruise on the underside of his chin.
You grin smugly, and Ilmenoth’s night-dark eyes narrow with anger. You’d rather him hate you than look down on you, and you find strength returning to your limbs. Maybe it’s the magic wearing off, or your father watching over you. Either way, your newfound strength helps you drive Ilmenoth backwards, but he resists, gritting his teeth as the edge of your father’s blade sparks against the edge of his.
“Impressive, little hero,” Ilmenoth hisses, “but you are still no match for me.”
“We’ll see what you think when you’re dead,” you say back, and when you try to hook your blade and disarm the dark mage, your weapon slashes right through the magic and his dark sword reforms, nearly slicing you in half. You can’t disarm him, because his weapon is made of magic; the only thing that could possibly destroy it would be something that could dispel shadow.
You gasp, and you look behind Ilmenoth and at the black marble illuminated by the setting sun’s light. Light. You take a deep breath and leap at him again, your weapons clashing, and you push him back with all your might. Ilmenoth stumbles, and you nudge him closer and closer to the light, until the very hem of his dark cloak is bathed in it.
With one last cry of exertion, you shove Ilmenoth backwards, and he falls into the light of the setting sun. His dark sword dissolves, and he gasps, cursing. Spell after spell, he rambles through his whole vocabulary, and you realize that if he makes it back into the darkness, it’s over for you. You’ve humiliated him so much, he is no longer willing to hold back.
You charge into the light of the sun, the sky as scarlet as the serpent’s fins, and Ilmenoth’s dark eyes widen with horror as you shout out the last words he will ever hear.
a) [[“Be purged, you wretch!”->A46a]]
b) [[“For all the light your darkness has stolen!”->A46a]]
c) [[“For my father!”->A46a]]The gleaming silver edge of your father’s sword plunges into Ilmenoth’s chest, and the dark mage does not scream or gasp; he just stares at you, and the palace is silent, save for your gasping, and the pounding of your blood in your ears.
It’s over now.
A shaky smile finds its way onto Ilmenoth’s face, and he rasps, “...How much like your father you are, Vhan.”
“How do you know my name?” you whisper, your hands shaking as they cling to your father’s sword.
Ilmenoth’s night eyes begin to dull as he starts to die. “...He spoke of you...you were his pride—his joy…” His head falls back, and he slumps to the ground. “...He begged for your forgiveness…”
He stops speaking, his eyes closed. He is still smiling. You pull your sword out of Ilmenoth’s chest, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the dark blood staining its edge. You fall to your knees, holding your father’s blade close to you.
“...I forgive you, Father,” you say, and your eyes brim with tears as you sniffle and rest your forehead against the flat of your father’s blade. He had held it with you once, and you never forgot the warmth, the callouses on his hands as he wrapped your little fingers around the hilt. “It’s over now.”
[[Epilogue->EP39]]EPILOGUE
Vhan returns to Cherry Nook after the defeat of Ilmenoth, their father finally avenged at last. The villagefolk greet them and hail them as a hero, and throw a grand celebration in a remote area of the village Vhan has never seen before. In the center of an old alcove, surrounded by mossy cobble, is the statue of Cherry Nook’s legendary village hero. His plaque reads ANDRIN THE FOOLHARDY, and oddly, Vhan sees a little bit of themself in the hero’s face. The people of Cherry Nook know why, but Vhan might never connect the dots.
Vhan is forever known as Vhan Irvin, Heir of the Hero, and their tale is told to every child in Cherry Nook for generations. But Vhan does not stay there; instead, they take their things—their father’s books, cloak, and sword—and vanish hours after their hometown’s celebration. Though no one knows for sure where Vhan went, records show that a hero bearing Andrin the Foolhardy’s blade has appeared hundreds of times in folk stories all around the world.
The End
(Thanks for playing!)Cam looks up when the serpent’s shadow falls over him, and he scrambles backwards, the boat rocking. “Whoa! That’s—you know this thing?”
“It’s big trouble, and it’s been hungry for a long time,” you say, and the serpent’s four opaline eyes go from you to Cam to the big salmon, now lying still on the bottom of the boat. It’s really, really hungry, just like you.
a) [[Give it the fish->A32aaa]]
b) [[Protect the fish->A32aab]]Cam looks up and yelps in shock, scrambling back from his work on the fish. “Whoa!” You snatch the grip of your oar.
“Row, I said!” Cam grabs his oar and you start to row, wincing at the pain in your still-empty stomach as the two of you row as fast as you can. The small fishing boat is light and swift, but not fast enough; the serpent slips back under the surface of the sea, the only sign of its presence a flash of its scarlet fins.
“Where’s it going?” Cam asks. “And what //is// that?”
“It’s a sea serpent, and it’s hungry,” you answer through gasps, forcing yourself to keep rowing. It hurts, but it’ll hurt more if you’re ripped apart by the monster’s jaws. “It’s probably gaining momentum!”
“What do you mean, ‘momentum?’” You crane your neck to see over Cam’s head, and to your relief, the line of land is growing nearer.
“It likes to dive up from under its prey!”
“You’ve seen it before?”
“Yeah, I—” Your words are cut short when a dull crack sounds under your feet, and the wood splinters. The serpent is trying to break the boat from beneath it! You’re in trouble now; if the boat lets in too much water, it’ll sink in the middle of the ocean and you’ll drown. Not only will you not be able to kill Ilmenoth, but Cam will die, too. You’re never losing anyone else important to you again.
“Not this boat,” Cam grumbles, and he starts to row faster, his hazel eyes alight with fear. You never expected someone like him to ever be afraid. “Any boat but this one…!” The two of you row as fast as you can, and you furiously think of something, anything you can do to keep the both of you safe.
a) [[Just keep rowing. You should be able to reach land before the serpent breaks the boat.->A32baa]]
b) [[Stab the serpent when it hits the boat again.->A32bab]]Relinquishing your only meal is the only way to keep your life, and protect Cam. “Sorry, Cam,” you mutter, and you grab the big salmon and toss it up into the air with a grunt. The serpent snaps its jaws around the middle of it and plunges back into the water, soaking you and Cam in cold seawater. Just like that, it’s gone, and the Southern Sea is quiet again.
“...Hey!” Cam cried indignantly, flashing you an angry hazel glare. “That was the biggest catch I’ve ever had!” He scrambles to the side of the boat and peers into the depths of the blue sea, grumbling. “...Would’ve fed the both of us, but I guess we’ll just both be hungry now.” You feel a prickle of annoyance.
“Hey, I just saved our lives!” you protest. “And besides, you still have some of the bait, right?” Cam sighs and nods, taking out the cracked mussel from his pocket. It’s still got a chunk of meat in it, probably enough for one or two more catches. “Maybe you’ll get something bigger. But we have to keep rowing, because the serpent might get hungry again. I can see land already.” You point in the distance and Cam squints in that direction, nodding.
“Okay. You row while I fish.” You agree, though you aren’t sure how much longer you can keep using energy before your stomach starts digesting itself.
[[Continue->A34]]You’re just as hungry as the serpent. This fish is yours—just as much as it is Cam’s. You dive for the salmon, throwing your arms over it, and Cam shouts from behind you, “Vhan, what in the world are you—”
You look up, realizing how stupid your hunger has made you, just as the serpent’s jaws engulf you whole. It’s not your fault that you barely had any time or money to get a decent meal, but...come on.
(You’re dead.)
[[Reconsider your last choice.->A32a]]
[[Start all over again.->A32aaba]]You’re just about as unconscious as you’ll let yourself be by the time the bottom of the boat skids against rocks, and Cam splashes into the shallow water and drags it onto shore. Your head is spinning from hunger, and you stumble out of the boat, slumping onto a flat rock and trying your hardest not to pass out on the ground in front of Cam. Too much exertion in too much time without a decent meal can really do a number on you, you know this now.
“I’m making a fire,” Cam says a couple feet away, and you nod, too weak to thank him. As Cam gathers sticks and begins making sparks, you wring the water from your cloak and look around you. The sky is turning a pretty shade of lavender, one you’ve never seen in Cherry Nook. Though you know there is only one sky, it feels like the one you’re sitting under now is a completely different one from the one you had lived your whole life beneath.
You and Cam have a quiet meal of skewered fish—Salmon Wharf and the surrounding area are aptly named; its salmon is plentiful and delicious—and don’t really talk. You aren’t too bothered, given you’re too busy devouring the food like a starved dog. As much as you’d like to speak to Cam, your mind is much more troubled by the oncoming battle: tonight, you will venture into the forests further inland and find Ilmenoth’s palace, and destroy him once and for all.
After a while, Cam asks, “...Well, are you going to go to the palace or something?”
You glance sideways at him, swallowing your mouthful of cooked salmon. “Me?” you say, pointing at yourself, and Cam nods, chewing. “Yeah. I just wanted to replenish my energy first...thank you for the meal, by the way.”
“It’s nothing.”
“What will you do, now that you’re here?” you ask Cam, and Cam stares into the fire between you and him. The flames flicker in his hazel eyes, and he doesn’t answer you for a while.
When he does, he mutters, “I don’t know. I’ll probably find someplace nice to live here.”
“You aren’t going back to Salmon Wharf?”
“What’s it to you?”
You blink rapidly, and Cam continues eating his skewered meal. He doesn’t seem to want to tell you his plans, and you know he’s troubled. By what, you aren’t sure. But if he’s going to be all snappy about it, then maybe it isn’t your business after all. As much as you’re curious to figure him out, you also don’t want to waste your time here when you can be slaying a dark mage.
Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. Tonight, you will have your revenge.
You thank Cam for his help again and say goodbye, and he says goodbye and good luck to “whatever you’re getting up to.” The last of your curiosity regarding his story dissolves as you walk into the undergrowth and away from the Southern Sea, being replaced by a fierce determination to find Ilmenoth and make him pay for his crimes.
[[Continue->A37]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A32aab]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]“Let’s keep going!” you cry. “If we’re fast enough, maybe we can make it to shallow water before the boat sinks!” The two of you row and row and row. Your heart starts to race when the serpent slams against the bottom of the boat again, and the wood splinters between your feet.
The far shore is getting closer and closer, and when you see a mass of black far in a great copse of trees, your blood runs cold. Ilmenoth’s palace. Never on your journey did you wonder what it looked like, but now you have your answer. Elegant black turrets loom over the canopies, just lines in your vision; it looks way too big for you to search for your father’s killer.
“Vhan!” Cam cries, snapping you out of your stupor. His hazel eyes are filled with panic and anger. “What is wrong with you? Don’t just sit there and make me do all the—” The both of you jerk backwards when the bottom of the boat splinters some more, and water begins trickling in. It’s already breaking. “Rrgh, if I knew we’d meet a serpent, I wouldn’t have taken your boat, Grandpa…!”
Grandpa? Did this fishing boat belong to Cam’s grandfather? A wave of guilt washes over you when you realize that it wouldn’t have gotten wrecked if you hadn’t asked Cam to help you. Though, when you think back, he had already been standing on the dock; perhaps he had meant to use it, anyway.
“I’m sorry,” you yell over the splashing of your oars as the two of you continue to row towards land. “If I didn’t let this serpent loose, then…” Well, then the people of the first village would have starved. You didn’t have a choice.
“This serpent is your fault?” Cam demands, and the boat suddenly scrapes against something underwater, making the both of you sway. You glance down and see something black under the surface: a rock. The sea is already getting shallower.
And then, the serpent breaks through the bottom of the boat, sending Cam’s salmon and chunks of wood flying. The monster catches the salmon in its jaws and it feels like a whole ten seconds before its entire serpentine body leaps out from between you and Cam, and disappears back into the sea with another huge splash.
Water starts gushing rapidly into the boat, and you gasp, “Come on! We have to jump in!” Cam is looking horrified at the giant hole the serpent made, frozen in place. “...Cam!”
“No,” he says, and the water is coming up to your ankles. The boat is sinking. “I won’t.” Panic is making your heart race, and you grab his wrist, looking up and seeing how far you’ll have to swim. The sandy shore is too far, and there are some rocks peeking out that you can rest on if need be. You flinch when Cam jerks his wrist out of your hand.
“Come on, Cam! I know this boat was important—” you don’t know why, though “—but we have to leave it behind!”
“This isn’t just something I can leave behind!” Cam shouts. The seawater is up to your knees now, almost level to the sides of the boat. “It’s my grandfather’s fishing boat...if it’s going down, then I’m going down with it.” Your eyes widen with shock.
a) [[Get Cam into the water.->A32baaaa]]
b) [[Let him do what he wants.->A32baaab]]You take out your father’s sword, setting it down across your lap as you continue to row. “Are you going to jump in and try to fight that thing?” Cam demands, and you shake your head.
“When it tries to break the boat again, I’m going to stab it!” you yell over the furious rowing and the splashing of your oars. “It probably won’t kill it, but it’ll give us some time!”
You and Cam row and row, and you grab the hilt of your sword a millisecond after the bottom of the boat splinters some more, and water begins trickling in. You let go of your oar, and you plunge your father’s sword downwards between your feet, into the crack forming in the wood. You hear a waterlogged screech, and you grunt as you drive the sword further down into the serpent until the silver guard of your father’s blade is pressed against the wood. You pull your sword back out, and the serpent’s scarlet blood spurts out of the small crack your sword made in the boat.
“Let’s go!” Cam shouts, and you grab your oar and help him row, stamping your foot over the crack you made to keep too much water from leaking into the boat. You look behind you, and see a small circle in the endless Southern Sea polluted with blood, dying the blue waters a dark, sickly purple.
[[Continue->A34]]As if you’re going to let another person die. You grab both of Cam’s wrists, and he looks up at you, his eyes wide with shock. “I’m not letting you just drown here. You’re coming with me, whether you like it or not!”
You drag Cam into the water, and his indignant cry is cut off when he tumbles out of the boat. The cold nearly sends you into shock when you plunge under the surface, and you feel Cam grab onto your arm. You open your eyes in the blue Southern Sea, and far away in the corner of your eye, you see great scarlet fins circling in the darker depths.
You swim upwards, and you gasp when you break the surface, choking and treading water. Cam looks terrified, coughing up a mouthful of seawater.
“You okay?”
“I’m scared of water,” he blurts out. Was that why he didn’t want to leave the boat? “I—I can’t—”
“Yes you can. It’s all right, Cam—there’s nothing that’ll hurt us. The serpent’s full, and there’s nothing that’ll want to mess with us when it’s around. I’ll—I’ll protect you.” Cam’s hand tightens its grip on your arm, and he nods. “Let’s go!”
[[Continue->A35]]“...Are you serious?” you say, and Cam doesn’t look at you when he nods. This boat has got to be really, really special, then. He had mentioned his grandfather before; perhaps it belongs to him. But you’ll never really know.
“I—I can’t just leave you here,” you protest, reaching for his hand, and Cam suddenly shoves you off the boat and into the sea.
The cold nearly sends you into shock when you plunge under the surface. You open your eyes in the blue Southern Sea, and far away in the corner of your eye, you see great scarlet fins circling in the darker depths.
You swim upwards, and you gasp when you break the surface, choking and treading water. Cam looks oddly calm, arms folded, pretty eyes closed.
“You’re weighing it down,” he says. You narrow your own eyes. “Just leave me alone.”
“I’m trying to help you,” you snap, but Cam doesn’t respond. And you find yourself not wanting to help him anymore. If he’s going to be such a jerk, then maybe he should find his own way to the shore when he gets all panicky. “Fine. Have it your way.”
You’re deafened by the splashing of water and your frustration as you swim, and your stupid, selfish anger just wants you to keep swimming. Even though you really liked Cam, and you thought you could be friends with him; would any of this have happened if the serpent hadn’t destroyed his grandfather’s boat?
You find a rock in the shallows and climb onto it, gasping and shuddering from the cold, and you look behind you into the sea you and Cam had crossed together. His boat is gone, and so is he. There’s already so much water trickling down your face, you don’t know how much is tears and how much isn’t.
[[Continue->A36]]You crawl onto shore, your limbs shaking from exertion. The world is spinning as you drag yourself out of the water, and you slump onto a flat rock, letting your eyes fall shut as you gasp for breath. Cam is gone, and so is your only way off this accursed island. Maybe if there’s a merchant ship headed for the mainland when you return from Ilmenoth’s palace, you’ll catch a ride.
Ilmenoth’s palace. The thought of killing a dark mage, or just walking to his palace, or just getting to your feet is almost painful. You’re so hungry, and you’re so cold, and you’re so alone. You’ve never felt this miserable in your life, save for when your father died. But even that’s starting to feel second compared to this deep aching in your bones, lethal sleep tugging at the blurred edges of your mind. You know that if you sleep for too long in such awful condition, you might just die.
a) [[Find something to eat.->A36a]]
b) [[Just take a quick nap, to replenish your energy.->A36b]]Groaning, you pull yourself to your feet and stumble away from the shoreline; the thought of eating fish makes you feel kind of sick. Over the canopy of the forest further inland, you can see four black spires topping tall turrets: Ilmenoth’s palace. You really made it. But you can’t imagine yourself even seeing Ilmenoth in the state you are, less so destroy him.
Wiping seawater from your eyes, you stumble into some scrubby bushes that go up to your knees. You see some blurry purplish specks, and you topple down on your knees and pick one of them, squinting at it. It’s a berry, with a small black stem and faint white specks. You could care less if it’s poisonous or not in the long run (your head’s a bit numb from so much swimming in ice cold water) so you eat it.
You thank whoever or whatever is watching over you from above because it tastes delicious. You pick and stuff your face with as many berries as you can find on this bush because man are you desperate. Then, when you’re positive you’ve searched it up and down, inside out, you find another one. You eat until you think you’ll throw up, and you do throw up, and then you pass out. But then you wake up! And you’re filled with an energy you haven’t felt in a long time. You feel like you could run a thousand miles without breaking a sweat. And that’s exactly the energy you need to find Ilmenoth’s palace; forget what’s happened before it, tonight is the night you will have your revenge.
[[Continue->A37]]Pulling your father’s drenched cloak over your shoulders, shivering, you decide to let yourself rest for just a little. When you’re feeling better, you’ll catch some fish or find some berries to eat and find Ilmenoth with more strength than you’ll salvage if you try and forage here. You’re soaked to the bone and so hungry you’re numb; hopefully by the time you wake up, you’ll be a bit drier.
But unlike you planned, you don’t wake up.
(You’re dead.)
a) [[Reconsider your last choice.->A36]]
b) [[Start all over again.->A36ba]]You’ll lose all your progress. Are you sure?
[[No.->A36b]]
[[Yes.->TITLE]]