Taru's Infernal Pledge

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<<audio $music_track volume $music_volume loop play>><<silently>> <<set $show_sequence_selection to true>> <<set $jp_show_images to true>> <<run UIBar.stow();>> <</silently>><img class="coverimage" src="img/cover.png"><h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Taru's Infernal Pledge - v0.07p.3c_public</h1>This work of fiction is an adult interactive story, aimed for an adult audience and includes explicit text and adult themes. The characters depicted in this story are fictional and have no real-world counterparts or inspirations. This game features bondage, BDSM, sexism, sexual scenes, violence and foul language. This work of fiction does not reflect the personal beliefs or thoughts of the creator. The creator of this work of fiction does not condone the actions and situations depicted in this work of fiction. This work is meant to be enjoyed purely as fiction. CONTENT WARNING: This game features scenes that many may consider disturbing. The themes explored can be dark and non-consensual. A deal with a devil is inevitable in this game. If any of these subject matters are sensitive to you, do not continue playing. In this game, you play as a female protagonist BEFORE WE CONTINUE: Do you hear the music? If not, your browser may be blocking audio. Check the url-bar at the top, there should be a toggle sound / mute button to the left of the url. Allow audio to hear the music. NOTE: This is an unofficial public build of the game. The latest up-to-date version is available here: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/tarus-infernal-pledge Please confirm that you are 18 years or older and want to proceed. [[I want to proceed and I am 18 years old or older|proceed 1]] [[I don't want to proceed / I'm younger than 18 years old]]

Thank you. To delete the game (if you downloaded it) simply remove the .html file and the img directory that is alongside the .html file from your computer.

<<silently>> <<set $current_music_volume_display to ($music_volume * 100)>> <</silently>><h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Config Menu</h1>NOTE: The config menu does not store your changes if you are in the very first passage of the game (the one asking if you're 18 or older). Font size set to: $system_font_size Combat Enabled: $tip_combat_enabled Image control: [[Show images (text and image experience) (default)|Show images (text and image experience)]] [[Hide images (pure text experience)]] Font size: [[Set font-size to small]] [[Set font-size to medium (default)|Set font-size to medium]] [[Set font-size to large]] Combat: <<if $tip_combat_enabled>>[[Disable Combat]]<<else>>[[Enable Combat]]<</if>> Music volume control: [[Set music volume to 0%]] [[Set music volume to 20%|Set music volume to 20%]] [[Set music volume to 50% (default)|Set music volume to 50%]] [[Set music volume to 100%]] Return to game: <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<set $config_menu_passages to []>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('View credits')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Config menu')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Stats')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Changelog')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Debug View')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Combat Training')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Combat Tutorial Page')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('CombatTrainingLevel1')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('CombatTrainingLevel2')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('CombatTrainingLevel3')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Chapter Selection')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('I understand. Show me the chapter selection.')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Disable Combat')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Enable Combat')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Show images (text and image experience)')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Hide images (pure text experience)')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set music volume to 0%')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set music volume to 20%')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set music volume to 50%')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set music volume to 100%')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set font-size to small')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set font-size to medium')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Set font-size to large')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Quests')>> <<run $config_menu_passages.push('Lore')>> <</silently>><<link "View credits" "View credits">> <<if $config_menu_passages.includes(passage())>><<else>><<set $back_to_passage_title to passage()>><</if>> <</link>> <<link "Config menu" "Config menu">> <<if $config_menu_passages.includes(passage())>><<else>><<set $back_to_passage_title to passage()>><</if>> <</link>> <<link "Journal" "Quests">> <<if $config_menu_passages.includes(passage())>><<else>><<set $back_to_passage_title to passage()>><</if>> <</link>> <<link "Lore" "Lore">> <<if $config_menu_passages.includes(passage())>><<else>><<set $back_to_passage_title to passage()>><</if>> <</link>> <<link "Combat Training" "Combat Training">> <<if $config_menu_passages.includes(passage())>><<else>><<set $back_to_passage_title to passage()>><</if>> <</link>>

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Credits</h1>Developed by FlimsyLegs: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/ Art by tacinky: https://bsky.app/profile/tacinky15.bsky.social Placeholder art by: FlimsyLegs Music by Abstraction: http://abstractionmusic.bandcamp.com/ Game's official website: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/tarus-infernal-pledge Link to game's discord: https://discord.gg/zyP8qgsDzk More games from FlimsyLegs: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/ Credit and huge thank you to the amazing Abstraction for creating the tracks and letting me use his music in my game! If you like the tunes, head on over to http://abstractionmusic.bandcamp.com/ and browse his massive library of music! NOTE: Abstraction is not associated with Taru's Infernal Pledge in any way. This game contains the following tracks by Abstraction: - VGMA Challenge - 08, VGMA Challenge - 29 - Patreon Challenge - 14, 05 - Void - Ludum Dare 30 - 06, Stream Loops 2024-03-06_02 - VGMA Challenge - 23, Stream Loops 2024-03-30_01 - Stream Loops 2024-02-14, Patreon Challenge - 10_05 - Sleep Cycle (Patreon Preview), VGMA Challenge - 19 - Ludum Dare 30 - 02, Stream Loops 2024-03-20_01 - Cloaked (WIP 2024-01-28), VGMA Challenge - 28 - Stream Loops 2024-05-08, Night Rain (Patreon Preview) - 02 - Windowpane Rain, VGMA Challenge - 18 - Ludum Dare 30 - 09, Patreon Challenge - 01 - Stream Loops 2024-04-24_02, Ludum Dare 38 - 08 - VGMA Challenge - 02, Patreon Challenge - 13 - VGMA Challenge - 22, Ludum Dare 30 - 03 - Stream Loops 2024-05-22, VGMA Challenge - 05 - Ludum Dare 28 - 05, Stream Loops 2024-02-21_02 - 02 - Sunset Cove, VGMA Challenge - 26 - Patreon Challenge - 05, Stream Loops 2024-07-04 - Stream Loops 2024-06-05, Stream Loops 2024-05-29 - Stream Loops 2024-07-19_L04, Ludum Dare 30 - 05 - Patreon Challenge - 06, Interior Birdecorator Decorate - Stream Loops 2023-11-29, Ludum Dare 38 - 02 - The Vile Grove, VGMA Challenge - 25 - Stream Loops 2024-08-21, Stream Loops 2024-03-30_02 - Stream Loops 2024-08-13, Stream Loops 2024-07-07 - 01 - Despite Everything, Stream Loops 2024-07-03 - Stream Loops 2024-02-07, Space Between Stars (2024-04-03) - 01 - Space Heater, 01 - Interlude i - Time To Change - VGMA Challenge - 17, VGMA Challenge - 21 - Ludum Dare 28 - 07 <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<img class="coverimage" src="img/cover.png"><h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Taru's Infernal Pledge</h1>Developed by FlimsyLegs: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/ Art by tacinky: https://bsky.app/profile/tacinky15.bsky.social Placeholder art by: FlimsyLegs Music by Abstraction: http://abstractionmusic.bandcamp.com/ Game's official website: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/tarus-infernal-pledge You can toggle the menu-bar on the left to be open or closed by pressing the arrow-button in the top left corner of the screen. If you want to improve the quality of this story, please send comments with typos you notice, errors in the passages, or your choices not taken into account correctly. The game takes place in a fantasy universe where magic, demons, gods and ancients shape the lives of mortals. You are Taru Nopsa, and until recently, you were a part of a criminal gang known for high-stakes robberies and heists. But that all came to an end one night, when a heist went wrong in a disturbing way. This is where your story begins. If you've never played this game, then I strongly recommend going to the tutorial. It walks you through the combat and the gameplay of this game. Note: If you're new to the game, check the tutorial. This game has a combat system that is explained best in the tutorial. Note 2: You can permanently disable the combat system of this game of interrupting your gameplay, if that's something you wish to skip. Open the Config Menu to do so. WORK IN PROGRESS! Art is being added to the game by the fantastic artist tacinky! In passages without his art, we're using AI generated placeholder images. Current tacinky art progress: - Chapter 1: ~20% - Chapter 2 and later: 0% [[(TUTORIAL) Wait! I'm new here...|Wait! I'm new to Twine / SugarCube games...]] [[Start the game! (I know what I'm doing!)|Start the game 1]]

<h2 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Tutorial</h2>Let's get you started with the basics, how to open the menu to configure the game to your liking, save your game, etc: [[Game Menu Tutorial]]

<h3 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Game Menu Tutorial</h3>To open the menu, press the arrow in the top left corner of the screen. <img class="tutorial" src="img/tutorial1.png"> To close the menu, press the arrow in the top left of the screen. <img class="tutorial" src="img/tutorial2.png"> If you open the menu again, you can see a few buttons: <img class="tutorial" src="img/tutorial3.png"> To Save and Load your game, press the "Saves" button in the menu. To change game settings, press the "Config Menu" button in the menu. To view details about the world and characters, press the "Lore" button. It includes maps of Jaerwik and Valkama. To get a reminder of what Taru is currently supposed to be doing, open the "Quests" page. Now that you know the menu basics, let's really quickly go through a gameplay tutorial: [[Gameplay Tutorial]]

<h3 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Gameplay Tutorial</h3>This game is a visual interactive novel, where you control a single, pre-defined, female character. Your most typical available actions include things to say, things to do, and things your character thinks to themselves. Most of your choices are tracked, affecting the story later in the game in small or big ways. Your choices open up new paths and close others. Missing paths are not shown in the UI in any way. The only way to know if a particular passage in the story has more than 1 option available is to consult a walkthrough guide (which does not exist yet). When you see this icon: <img class="tutorial" src="img/quill.png"> appear in the top right corner, your journal (Quests) has been updated. Open your quest journal by opening the config menu and selecting "Quests". And finally, a small combat tutorial. You can enter training combat at any time during the game from the config menu by pressing the "Combat Training" button. There, you can also access the Combat Tutorial Page. Let's take look at the tutorial page for the combat: [[Combat tutorial scene]]

<<cacheaudio "theme_song" "music/theme_song.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "astorolus_theme" "music/astorolus_theme.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "spicy_senses" "music/spicy_senses.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_neutral" "music/adventure_neutral.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_sneak" "music/danger_sneak.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "combat_serious" "music/combat_serious.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_night" "music/calm_night.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "sad_alone" "music/sad_alone.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_very_calm_sleep" "music/full_very_calm_sleep.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_scary" "music/danger_scary.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "spicy_electro" "music/spicy_electro.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_neutral2" "music/calm_neutral2.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_funny" "music/adventure_funny.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_happy" "music/adventure_happy.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "combat_scared" "music/combat_scared.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "combat_serious" "music/combat_serious.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_alone2" "music/adventure_alone2.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_investigate" "music/adventure_investigate.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_raining_calm_piano" "music/full_raining_calm_piano.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_raining_mystery" "music/full_raining_mystery.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_downbeat" "music/calm_downbeat.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "combat_frantic" "music/combat_frantic.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_alone" "music/calm_alone.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_betrayal" "music/calm_betrayal.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_calm_lost2" "music/danger_calm_lost2.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "peace_spicy" "music/peace_spicy.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "spicy_tease" "music/spicy_tease.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_astorolus" "music/danger_astorolus.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "mystery_night" "music/mystery_night.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "cool_thief" "music/cool_thief.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "peace_night" "music/peace_night.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "spicy_guitar" "music/spicy_guitar.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "mystery_spicy" "music/mystery_spicy.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_mysterious_diamond" "music/full_mysterious_diamond.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_wonder" "music/calm_wonder.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_stressfree" "music/calm_stressfree.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_supernatural" "music/danger_supernatural.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_seduce2" "music/calm_seduce2.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "cool_upbeat" "music/cool_upbeat.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "serious_night_slow" "music/serious_night_slow.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "very_calm_neutral" "music/very_calm_neutral.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "quirky_sneak" "music/quirky_sneak.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "cozy_lighthearted_fun" "music/cozy_lighthearted_fun.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "calm_thinking2" "music/calm_thinking2.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "spicy_close" "music/spicy_close.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "mystery_calm" "music/mystery_calm.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_night" "music/adventure_night.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "hopeful_sneak" "music/hopeful_sneak.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "peace_alone" "music/peace_alone.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "supernatural_sneak" "music/supernatural_sneak.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "fear_supernatural_slow" "music/fear_supernatural_slow.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_calm_loss" "music/full_calm_loss.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "supernatural_thoughtful_slow" "music/supernatural_thoughtful_slow.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "combat_friendly" "music/combat_friendly.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_calm_neutral" "music/full_calm_neutral.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_calm_piano" "music/full_calm_piano.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "full_calm_silent" "music/full_calm_silent.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_unknown" "music/adventure_unknown.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "adventure_winning" "music/adventure_winning.ogg">> <<cacheaudio "danger_calm_lost" "music/danger_calm_lost.ogg">> <<set $all_music_tracks to []>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('theme_song')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('astorolus_theme')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('spicy_senses')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_neutral')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_sneak')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('combat_serious')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_night')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('sad_alone')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_very_calm_sleep')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_scary')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('spicy_electro')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_neutral2')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_funny')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_happy')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('combat_scared')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('combat_serious')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_alone2')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_investigate')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_raining_calm_piano')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_raining_mystery')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_downbeat')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('combat_frantic')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_alone')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_betrayal')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_calm_lost2')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('peace_spicy')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('spicy_tease')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_astorolus')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('mystery_night')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('cool_thief')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('peace_night')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('spicy_guitar')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('mystery_spicy')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_mysterious_diamond')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_wonder')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_stressfree')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_supernatural')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_seduce2')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('cool_upbeat')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('serious_night_slow')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('very_calm_neutral')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('quirky_sneak')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('cozy_lighthearted_fun')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('calm_thinking2')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('spicy_close')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('mystery_calm')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_night')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('hopeful_sneak')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('peace_alone')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('supernatural_sneak')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('fear_supernatural_slow')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('supernatural_thoughtful_slow')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('combat_friendly')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_calm_neutral')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_calm_piano')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('full_calm_silent')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_unknown')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('adventure_winning')>> <<run $all_music_tracks.push('danger_calm_lost')>> <<if def $music_volume>><<else>> <<set $music_volume to 0.5>> <</if>> <<if def $music_track>><<else>> <<set $music_track to "theme_song">> <</if>> <<widget "fadeInMusicFunction">> <<set $music_track to $args[0]>> <<if !isPlaying($music_track)>> <<masteraudio stop>> <<if ndef $music_volume>><<set $music_volume to 0.5>><</if>> <<set $music_volume_ticks_to_max to 20>> <<audio $music_track volume 0.0 loop play>> <<set $music_volume_tick to 0>> <<repeat 100ms>> <<set $music_volume_tick to $music_volume_tick + 1>> <<if $music_volume_tick <= $music_volume_ticks_to_max>> <<set $percentage to $music_volume_tick / $music_volume_ticks_to_max>> <<set $new_music_volume to $music_volume * $percentage>> <<audio $music_track volume $new_music_volume>> <<else>> <<stop>> <</if>> <</repeat>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<set $QIDEscapeCult to "escapeCult">> <<set $QIDEscapeCult_name to "You've been kidnapped by the cult of The Fathomless Hunger.">> <<set $QIDEscapeCult_t1 to "Find a way out of here.">> <<set $QIDEscapeCult_t2 to " Break out of your shackles.">> <<set $QIDEscapeCult_t3 to "Find your gear.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease to "soulRelease">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_name to "Find a way to break the Soul Eater's binding of your soul.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t1 to "Break the binding.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t2 to "Find someone who can help you.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t3 to "Piru offered to help you.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t4 to "A man called Tryton visited your dreams. His soul is tied to The Fathomless Hunger too. Maybe you should pay him a visit?">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t5 to "Find someone in the temple of the God of Mercy who can help you.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t6 to "Find out what Tryton knows about The Fathomless Hunger.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t7 to "Learn to dominate The Abyss with Tryton, when you are ready.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t8 to "Return to Opettaille with more information when you are ready.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge to "demonPledge">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_name to "You do not own your body. Obey your demon master.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t1 to "Please the demon's sexual appetites.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t2 to "Find a way to get to the priests that Piru wants killed.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t3 to "Find a way to break the pledge to the demon.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t5 to "Kill the priest Opettaille.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t6 to "Kill the priest Jokna.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t7 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Opettaille.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t8 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Tryton.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t9 to "You overheard servants talking in the infernal realm. Apparently, the original writ of the pact holds power over your pledge. Stealing it might be the way to break your pact.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t10 to "You have sworn that you will kill Piru, if you get the chance...">> <<set $QIDRevenge to "revenge">> <<set $QIDRevenge_name to "Find and kill the person who betrayed you.">> <<set $QIDRevenge_t1 to "Find out who betrayed you.">> <<set $QIDRevenge_t2 to "Meet Einar at the Rustic Fork Inn, two days after your escape.">> <<set $QIDMisc to "misc">> <<set $QIDMisc_name to "Miscellaneous">> <<set $QIDMisc_t1 to "Find your gang.">> <<set $QIDMisc_t2 to "Find out what happened to your mother.">> <<set $QIDMisc_t3 to "Find out what happened to Astrid.">> <<set $QIDMisc_t4 to "Confront Ylva.">> <<set $QIDMisc_t5 to "Kill Hermes Dirk.">> <<if def $npc_disposition>><<else>> <<set $npc_disposition to {}>> <</if>> <<if def $settings_day_mode>><<else>> <<set $settings_day_mode to false>> <</if>> <<if def $back_to_passage_title>><<else>> <<set $back_to_passage_title to "Start">> <</if>> <<if def $tip_combat_enabled>><<else>> <<set $tip_combat_enabled to true>> <</if>> <<set $jp_show_images to true>> <<set $system_font_size to "medium">> <<if def $quests>><<else>> <<set $quests={}>> <<set $completedQuests={}>> <</if>> <<widget "piruSceneTransition">><<if $taru_concubine_level is 0>><<link "Look around" "Piru Scene 1">><</link>><<else>>TODO - Add Piru Scene 2<</if>><</widget>> <<widget "displayQuestsFunction">><h4>Active Quests</h4><<for $x=0;$x<Object.keys($quests).length;$x++>> Quest: <<print $quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].name>> <<for $y=0;$y<Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].current_tasks).length;$y++>> &emsp;&emsp;[ ] <<print $quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].current_tasks[Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].current_tasks)[$y]]>> <</for>> &emsp;&emsp;Completed: <<for $y=0;$y<Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].completed_tasks).length;$y++>> &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;[X] <<print $quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].completed_tasks[Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].completed_tasks)[$y]]>> <</for>> &emsp;&emsp;Failed: <<for $y=0;$y<Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].failed_tasks).length;$y++>> &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;[-] <<print $quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].failed_tasks[Object.keys($quests[Object.keys($quests)[$x]].failed_tasks)[$y]]>> <</for>> <</for>> ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <h4>Completed Quests</h4><<for $x=0;$x<Object.keys($completedQuests).length;$x++>> <<print $completedQuests[Object.keys($completedQuests)[$x]].name>> <</for>> <</widget>> <<widget "addQuestTaskFunction">> <<set $parentQuest to $args[0]>> <<set $taskIdentifier to $args[1]>> <<set $taskName to $args[2]>> <<set (($quests[$parentQuest])["current_tasks"])[$taskIdentifier] to $taskName>> <</widget>> <<widget "markQuestCompletedFunction">> <<set $questIdentifier to $args[0]>> <<if def $quests[$questIdentifier]>> <<set $copyOfQuest to $quests[$questIdentifier]>> <<run delete $quests[$questIdentifier]>> <<set $completedQuests[$questIdentifier] to $copyOfQuest>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "failQuestFunction">> <<set $parentQuest to $args[0]>> <<set $taskToDelete to $args[1]>> <<set $copyOfTask to (($quests[$parentQuest])["current_tasks"])[$taskToDelete]>> <<if ndef $copyOfTask>><<else>> <<run delete (($quests[$parentQuest])["current_tasks"])[$taskToDelete]>> <<set (($quests[$parentQuest])["failed_tasks"])[$taskToDelete] to $copyOfTask>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "completeQuestFunction">> <<set $parentQuest to $args[0]>> <<set $taskToDelete to $args[1]>> <<set $copyOfTask to (($quests[$parentQuest])["current_tasks"])[$taskToDelete]>> <<if ndef $copyOfTask>><<else>> <<run delete (($quests[$parentQuest])["current_tasks"])[$taskToDelete]>> <<set (($quests[$parentQuest])["completed_tasks"])[$taskToDelete] to $copyOfTask>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "createNewQuestFunction">> <<set $questIdentifier to $args[0]>> <<set $questName to $args[1]>> <<if def $quests[$questIdentifier]>><<else>> <<set $newQuest={ name:$questName, current_tasks: {}, completed_tasks: {}, failed_tasks: {} }>> <<set $quests[$questIdentifier] to $newQuest>> <</if>> <</widget>> <<widget "modifyNPCDisposition">> <<if $back_to_passage_title is passage()>><<else>> <<set $npcName to $args[0]>> <<set $dispositionModifier to $args[1]>> <<if def $npc_disposition[$npcName]>> <<set $oldValue to $npc_disposition[$npcName]>> <<set $npc_disposition[$npcName] to ($oldValue + $dispositionModifier)>> <<else>> <<set $npc_disposition[$npcName] to $dispositionModifier>> <</if>> <</if>> <</widget>>

<<silently>> <<set $music_volume to 0.0>> <<if def $music_track>><<audio $music_track volume $music_volume>><</if>> <</silently>>Options saved! Music volume set to 0%. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<set $music_volume to 0.5>> <<if def $music_track>><<audio $music_track volume $music_volume>><</if>> <</silently>>Options saved! Music volume set to 50%. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<set $music_volume to 1.0>> <<if def $music_track>><<audio $music_track volume $music_volume>><</if>> <</silently>>Options saved! Music volume set to 100%. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<set $music_volume to 0.2>> <<if def $music_track>><<audio $music_track volume $music_volume>><</if>> <</silently>>Options saved! Music volume set to 20%. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter Selection</h1> WARNING: Experimental feature! WARNING: This selection menu exists for players who have already played the game, and want to quickly jump into a specific chapter to replay an alternative path. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> <<if $show_sequence_selection is true>>[[I understand. Show me the chapter selection.]]<<else>>(Chapter selection disabled: Restart the game (from the "Restart" button in the menu to enable selection)<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <<set $show_sequence_selection to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_taste to false>> <<set $taru_concubine_level to 0>> <<createNewQuestFunction $QIDEscapeCult $QIDEscapeCult_name>> <<addQuestTaskFunction $QIDEscapeCult "t1" "$QIDEscapeCult_t1">> <<addQuestTaskFunction $QIDEscapeCult "t2" "$QIDEscapeCult_t2">> <<addQuestTaskFunction $QIDEscapeCult "t3" "$QIDEscapeCult_t3">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0002.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 1 - The Pledge</h4> 'Well fuck, this is it, isn't it?' you can't help but think to yourself, just as another drop of drool falls from your mouth onto your naked breasts. A pox on those damn fanatics for putting a ball gag in your mouth and tying you up in a painful kneeling position like this. You can't see a thing, the blindfold pressed hard against your eyes makes sure of that. But you can hear just fine. You hear your raspy breath as you struggle to breathe. You hear the rattle of the chains keeping you bound and immobile. Your arms are firmly tied behind your back, and your legs are tied together by an unyielding chain. And not a moment's rest for you either, for a collar around your neck and the chains are keeping you tied to something above you, which is constantly pulling you up. But you cannot go up, for the chains on your legs keep you on your knees and toes. And so you sit here on your knees in the prison cell of a cult that has kidnapped you, fully naked, chained, blinded and drooling, unable to lie down or stand up. You might think that the cultists are kinky bastards, tying up a woman so helplessly and completely naked. And if it was just that, a kinky game, you'd probably be fine with it. However, the more likely reason for your treatment is precaution. They knew you were hiding lockpicks, cutting tools and the whole shebang in your clothing, for breaking into and out of things. And thus here you are, without any of your clothing, or tools of the trade. [[And what did you do to deserve a treatment like this?]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0002.png">Well, nothing! Unless you count being in the wrong place at the wrong time a punishable offence. Although, come to think of it... The cult of The Fathomless Hunger, the very same cult that now has you imprisoned and most cruelly tied up like this, they usually don't target just anyone. No, this was planned. You were the target. And that also explains why they took this ridiculous, yet completely necessary, precaution of stripping you naked and tying you up like this. 'But why me...?' you wonder, silently to yourself, trying to adjust your weight to a more comfortable position and chewing on the ball gag in your mouth. Stay focused, Taru. Right. You try to recall what you know about The Fathomless Hunger. For one, it goes by many names. The Eternal Darkness, The Abyss, The Deep One, The Old One. But it also goes by another name. A shiver goes down your spine as you recall it being whispered in fear: The Soul Eater. Is that what the cult is planning? To offer your soul as a sacrifice to The Fathomless Hunger, for your soul to be consumed in all eternity? [[Despair fills you and you throw yourself against your bindings.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0003.png">You've never been afraid of dying. But having your soul sucked from you, swallowed by a hungry god, this frightens you to your very core. You throw yourself against your chains, grunting, screaming, spitting into the ball gag and cursing. But they won't budge. Your flesh is raw from the effort, bruised by the iron chains keeping you shackled in this prison. A prison where you'll die, without a chance to feel the wind against your skin again as you jump from rooftop to rooftop. To think, that your world was turned upside down like this, and just a few hours ago too. It was a typical heist, nothing special about it, in the southern parts of the Inner City in Valkama, in the Divine District. Get in, grab the item, get out. Business as usual. Except it turned out to be anything but. In the darkness of the night, you were an unseen shadow on the rooftops of Valkama, the capital city of Jaerwik. The lock on the window proved no match to your lock-picking skills, and you'd slipped inside without a sound. But it was a trap. A dozen armed men were waiting, spears in hand, greeting you. The symbol on their robes and the masks they hid their faces behind, however, made it clear. These weren't guards of some wealthy merchant you were tasked to rob. No, these were cultists of The Fathomless Hunger. And what were you supposed to do? Armed with just a dagger against twelve men with spears? You didn't stand a chance. You never saw what happened to your gang partner of the night, your backup, Kerr Apea. Probably slipped away, the slimy bastard. You'd much rather it be him here now than you... You remember now, what happened next. But the memory is blurry, like you're watching it through a thick layer of fog. They drugged you, stripped you, bound you to a stone altar. You could've sworn black smoke was coming out of the holes in their face masks, where their eyes should've been, as they prayed or chanted or something. The details are a mess. Then they took you here, to the room you're currently shackled in. But to what end? Why can't they just get it over with... [[Wrong place at the wrong time indeed. But someone set you up.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0004.png">Anger flares within you. Who gave your gang this job? Whoever it was wanted one of you to just walk into the hands of these cultists, a lamb ready for slaughter. A low-life like you wouldn't be missed if you disappeared. The guards wouldn't even bother investigating. The perfect crime. But who would stand to gain from this? A tingling sensation raises the hairs on your back as the air all around you in the room unexpectedly grows warm. Hot. The smell of burnt flesh fills your nose and you choke into your ball gag. A muffled sound, like that of fabric being softly torn to pieces, follows the smell. Then the room grows cool again, the smoke gone, silent once more. You sense there's someone standing right in front of you, but with the blindfold, you can't see a thing. With a beating heart, you suddenly remember that you're naked and in shackles. "Hello again, beautiful Taru. It's been far too long since last time." a sultry, yet mocking, voice says. You recognize it immediately. Of all the bloody infernal hellspawn... It's Piru, the fifth archdemon of hell, one of a handful of hellspawn with immense powers, that together rule the infernal realms. You know exactly what he wants, what he's wanted for a long time... A deep pledge of loyalty to him and complete ownership of you, just like your mother did many years ago. To this day you don't understand why she did it. But it hurt, a lot, seeing your mother become more distant from you as the devil's hold tightened. Until one day, a few years ago, she was found dead, washed up on the beach, half-eaten by sharks, barely recognizable... [[Curse him through your gag as best as you can]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0006.png">Your voice is but a whisper. And the demon Piru, for once, doesn't mock you. Instead, he continues with almost a concerned voice: "I'm sad to bring this news, but you will die here, Taru. Unless I help you. However, that is the least of your worries." He draws a deep breath, he continues: "You may have already surmised that you've been captured by fanatics of The Old Poison? Or as you know it, The Fathomless Hunger? And what that entails?" Yes, you saw the cultists and their symbols, saw the ritual, know that the hunger wants your soul. But you won't let the demon see your fear. Instead, you nod into your blindfold, and Piru continues: "What you may not have realized is that the first part of the ritual was already completed. Your soul is already bound to The Old Poison. Only your death remains to seal the deal." What he's saying doesn't make sense, at least you don't want it to. And why should you believe him? For all you know, he's the one who set you up! Put you in this position, only to conveniently come to your rescue by offering you a pact to sign! "And why should I believe you? You're just a hellspawn who'll do anything to get what you want. And what you want is me." you say, defiantly, but a sliver of doubt finds root inside you. Your mother taught you a thing or two about demons, after all. And one of her lessons was this: When a contract is being negotiated between a mortal and a demon, the demon cannot lie about the details of the deal or the circumstances of the deal. If you want the truth, you'll need to begin negotiations for a pact, and get real answers to your questions. "Oh, I do want you. And I'm here for purely selfish reasons, this I do not deny. But you might want to consider my offer nonetheless. Here's what I offer: I'll help you escape your current predicament and this cult. I will even aid you in breaking the binding of your soul to The Old Poison." he pauses, then adds: "All I demand is what I've always demanded. The one thing you still have ownership of: Your body." The last thing you want is to have your soul consumed by The Fathomless Hunger. Or to die here at the hands of the cultists. And here he is, offering an escape from both your problems. But the cost... Are you willing to pledge yourself to Piru, the fifth archdemon of the infernal realms, just like your mother did before you? She did warn you about him, and so far, you've managed to avoid bargaining with Piru. But now you may not have a choice. This could very well be the most important decision of your life, and your last... [[Negotiate with the demon]] [[Tell him to crawl back to his realm and never show his face again!]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0009.png">Taking the demon's deal may be your only chance to escape this place, but you still need to be smart about this. The demon is bound by the rules of making a pact with a mortal, which according to your mother, means that the demon must truthfully answer details related to the deal about to be signed. But first, something that bothers you: "Why do you call it The Old Poison?" The devil sounds surprised: "Ah, how annoyingly short memories you weak mortals have. It is an ancient enemy of demons. A profoundly foul being. That's all I'll say on the matter." Piru reveals, leaving you not quite satisfied with the answer. But now you need to know if the demon is behind you being captured in the first place. Surely he wouldn't do something like that, since it involves a supposed ancient enemy of his. But you have to know. You try to recall your mother's teachings as you initiate the pact negotiations: "Fine, I will humor you. Let's discuss the details of the proposed pledge." Your voice quivers, but you steady yourself. A surge of power courses through your veins. There's binding magic in your words. "Aaah... Exquisite, dearest, Taru. Your mother taught you exceedingly well. Why your words almost sent a shiver down my spine!" The demon Piru says with a gleeful and malicious chuckle. Ignoring him, you focus on what's important. Now is not the time to hesitate. Instead, you continue: "With the negotiations started, I'm entitled to truthful answers regarding this pact, demon." Another surge courses through your body, your words carry power. Piru's chuckle comes to a stop as he says with a sarcastic tone: "Oh indeed? Very well, Pledge Maker. Ask your questions. Anything your heart desires. May the first archdemon smite me where I stand should I answer with anything but the truth." Right now, you really hope what your mother taught you is correct, and that you remember it as she taught you... [[First, you need to know what happened to your mother.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0007.png">"Listen to me, demon! The answer is, and always has been, no! My mother warned me about you. Dealing with you brings nothing but pain and misery. I'd rather hope for a miracle, slim as they are, than pledge myself to you!" you explain, defiant, knowing dealing with him would be the worst decision of your life. "For the last time: Crawl back to your infernal hell and leave me alone!" Your outburst is met with silence, but only for a moment. Piru scoffs, then the air in the room grows hot again. The familiar smell of burnt flesh fills your nose as a portal to the hells opens. "Stubborn and thick as a mule, I see. Don't cry about your fate when a ritual dagger pierces your heart. As you make your bed, so you must lie in it. Or in this case, die in it." Piru laughs, then leaves you alone in your prison cell, the heat and smell of the portal gone, leaving you alone, naked and shackled in your prison cell once more. And then you wait, testing the strength of the chains binding you in silence, listening, hoping for a miracle. Maybe the God of Mercy, The Merciful One, will finally show that he or she is real and come to your rescue? You've never been one to trust that particular god before, but now is as good a time as any to begin. You utter a silent word of prayer, but as you expected, no one answers your whisper. A while later, you hear footsteps approaching your cell. Your heart skips a beat as you listen carefully. Keys rattle in the lock to your cell, and then it opens, multiple sets of footsteps announcing the presence of at least four visitors. They're surprised to see the ball gag on the floor, you can hear it from their discussions. Then the men grab you and unlock the chains keeping you bound to the floor and ceiling, leaving on the chains keeping your limbs bound together and immobile. [[Scream as the cultists drag you away|bad ending 1]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0008.png">Whatever you thought would happen when you refused the demon's deal, this wasn't it. You're dragged screaming a long way, the blindfold preventing you from seeing a thing. Your knees scrape painfully against the cold stone floor. Then you hear chanting. A thick smell of burning incense assaults your nose. The chanting fills you from all sides, echoing in the chamber. You realize this is the ritual room they took you to earlier. The one where they supposedly bound your soul to The Fathomless Hunger... Your thoughts are interrupted by strong hands lifting you up, turning you onto your back and pressing you down onto the stone altar. Your screaming, thrashing, cursing, kicking and spitting are ignored as you're stretched out onto the cold stone, spreadeagled, hands and feet tied to each corner of the altar. Still with your blindfold on, you cannot see what is going on, but the chanting comes to a crescendo. A gloved hand silences your screaming, pressing down hard on your mouth. Panic and dread fill your thoughts and heart. No, it can't end like this! A gloved hand touches your chest, drags something wet and rough over your skin, up, down, to the side, right where your heart is! The man narrates what he's doing, but you're not listening. Something about a pentagram, binding is completed and the ritual can proceed. You're crying and screaming into the hand muffling you. The chanting comes to a sudden stop. The room becomes deadly silent. All you can hear is the sound of your quick breath through your nose, and the rapid beating of your frightened heart. The moment drags on forever, or so it seems. Then pain. Out of nowhere. In your chest. It's unlike anything you've felt in your life, penetrating your very being. Consciousness clings to you for but the blink of an eye, but in that short time, you can see your life flashing before you, the mocking laugh of Piru as he scolds you for refusing his offer. Then you're floating. No, it's your soul, you realize, free from your body. Suddenly able to see, you get a glimpse of your shackled body, a bloody knife jutting out of your chest. Blood is flowing in impossible quantities over your naked chest, down onto the stone altar, down further still onto the floor. Then you feel it. A malicious presence. And an impatient tug. Your soul, the very essence that is you, no longer floats freely. The binding takes hold of you, and you're pulled down violently, a chill gripping the fragments that are left of you. In an instant, you surge through the floor, the entire house, the very earth, until only darkness remains. Into the abyss, far below. The cry of a thousand souls greets you and you feel a gnawing at your being. Something is consuming you, eating your soul, slowly, sucking on the juicy bits with careful thought. And in panic, you realize it has an eternity to complete its task, and it enjoys every second of it. Your soul screams in agony as it joins the cacophony of a thousand other crying souls... <h4>Ending 1: Sacrificed.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending 1 reverse]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0006.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... "Quite the bold statement indeed, coming from someone so provocatively put on display. I am after all a benevolent and caring infernal patron, and could certainly be persuaded to help out a damsel in distress." Piru comments, his words dripping with honey. His words are sweet, but the meaning behind them is pure venom. "Alas, I am the bearer of terrible news. Truths that would truly haunt the dreams of any man or woman." You're about to throw another insult his way, but something stops you. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to hear what he has to say. After all, he might be your only chance of escape. But no, the real reason is the suddenly dead serious tone of his voice. That usually playful, mocking and sultry tone of his was gone. [["Go on..." you urge the demon.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0011.png">A barking laughter answers your question. "I see that your presently hostile demeanour is but a manifestation of a deep mistrust in my humble self. But I assure you, I played no part, direct or indirect, intentional or unintentional, in the tragic predicament you find yourself in." he pauses for a moment as you gather your thoughts. Truly, he had nothing to do with this? Then he continues: "But I intend to take full advantage of the situation regardless." As you expected. And can you blame him? It's like you seeing an unsuspecting man on the buzzing streets of Valkama, with his coin purse lightly tied to his belt, swinging enticingly right in front of you. Why, could anyone blame you for reaching out, unseen, unwitnessed, to lighten the load of that careless citizen? Certainly not. Seizing a golden opportunity like that is what separates a successful thief from a fool, after all. Still, you don't have to like what Piru is doing even though you understand why he's doing it. At least you know he had nothing to do with your current situation... Your thoughts go to your gang. Ylva, Arne, Einar... Ebbe, Erika, Astrid.. Balder and Hulda... And Kerr, the slimy bastard... "Where is Kerr? Is he alive? And if you didn't set me up, then who did?" you find yourself asking. Piru lets out a series of tuts of disapproval. "My my Taru, such questions are well beyond the relevance of our pledge, don't you think? I have no idea where your skulky crime partner Kerr is. He is not trapped here like you, this I know. But I warn you: Do not ask more irrelevant questions. My patience is growing thin." Piru growls, scolding you for stepping outside of the accepted boundaries of the questions you can ask. Shit. You have to be more careful. You don't want to negotiate with an annoyed demon. But at least you know Kerr made it out alive, the fucker... [[Ask what it is he can do for you]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0012.png">"Let's assume I agree to give you my body as part of this deal." Whatever that means. You'll have to get clarity on that still. "What, exactly, am I going to get out of this pledge?" Piru paces around the room as he says: "There are so many things I can offer you. Firstly: I can break the chains keeping your alluring figure restrained so deliciously. Secondly: I can give you a precise description of where your unfriendly and unwanted hosts are keeping your tools and gear. Thirdly: I can give you the means to reach your gear safely. Fourthly: I can show you the easiest way out of this miserable place, with the least amount of guards blocking your path. And finally: I can, given ample time, cooperation and resources, sever the binding between The Old Poison and your soul." Piru stops pacing, coming to stand in front of you once more. If you expected him to offer you inhuman strength, wisdom, or powers of invisibility and flight, then you'd be disappointed. But you didn't expect that. "Sever the connection? So it's true, the cultist did already bind my soul? And you can sever that connection?" You ask. Escaping is all well and good, but it alone doesn't solve the issue. You'll never be safe for as long as your soul remains bound to the cruelest being in the known universe. "Indeed it is and indeed I can. You see, this is something of an atypical pledge that you and I are conjuring here. Normally, I ask for mortals to pledge their body and soul to me. However, your soul is not yours to bargain with anymore. But I can sweeten the deal and offer you a chance to escape the cruel fate that awaits you after death." The demon Piru concludes. "And why can't you just portal me out of here or something? Why do I have to escape myself, sneaking about?" You ask. Piru shrugs. "An astute question. Let's just say it has something to do with the rules of your realm, and not mine. I can, at will, move you to my realm. But I must return you to the exact same place here in your world. Don't ask me why, it's something of an annoyance to us devils too." Piru explains. Well, it was worth a shot. You take a deep breath, taking it all in. Well, now you know what he brings to the table. Now you want to know what it is he wants. The details. [[Ask him what exactly he wants to do with your body.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0013.png">"What exactly are you planning to do with my body? Why do you want it? Will I still be in control of myself? I want exact details, nothing vague or cryptic. Spell it all out." you say, already guessing the answer, but you need to hear it from him now that he is compelled by the rules of negotiation to tell you the truth. Piru clears his throat. "I have a few plans for your body. Firstly: You will be in complete control of your body, to come and go anywhere you want, in the mortal realm. But I can summon you to my realm whenever I want. And since you want me to spell it out in words that cannot be misinterpreted: In my realm your body is mine. I will use it for pain and pleasure, in any way I want. But, benevolent as I am, I promise you this: I will only summon you to my realm at most once a day, and for no longer than one hour of mortal time each day." He starts. Your eyes grow wide in the blindfold, and suddenly you're happy that he cannot see the fear in your eyes. Before he can continue, you interrupt him, demanding clarification: "Pain and pleasure? You mean you aim to torture me, kill me and..." you can't finish the sentence, throat suddenly dry, disgust filling your very core. "Torture? Only if you misbehave, or I'm in the mood. But fret not, wounds received in my realm always heal in a few minutes. A devil of a detail, isn't it? But kill you? Oh no. For as long as your fragile soul remains helplessly bound to The Old Poison, I cannot kill you. And once we sever the connection, I will choose not to kill you, for such is the generosity of my kindness. Of this you have my word." Nervously, you listen to the demon. Bound by the rules, he must tell you the truth, and thus your worst fears are put to rest. But then he continues: "You will become my concubine, Taru. I will fulfill your desires of being controlled, of being submissive. Your dark lusts. I know all about them. Even if you don't. You won't have to hide your true self with me. I will use you and fuck you, Taru Nopsa. And you'll beg me to do so. After all these years, of you flaunting your body, dancing and evading my approaches with utmost finess... It will be over. I will taste you, have you, ravage you, until your desires and mine are quenched, and then I will do it all over again." His tone is serious and seductive, possessive and vulgar. There you have it. The ugly truth. The naked truth. Nothing vague or cryptic about that. Your cheeks are blushing as he describes desires that you didn't know you had... Does he see straight into your soul, uncovering a truth you didn't know was there, or is he manipulating you? After all, most of your "dark lusts", as Piru puts them, have been thoughts. Fantasies. A wonder at what could be. Yet here he is, offering you everything you've wanted, and didn't know you wanted, and more... Before you can think further on the matter, Piru interrupts your thoughts. He has more plans for you. [[Stunned, you listen to Piru as he continues his list...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0014.png">"Secondly: I need you to be my silent blade in the mortal realm, a deadly shadow, the deliverer of infernal justice. I have a few... Let's call them grudges, for a lack of a better word... That I need you to deal with. To put it as bluntly and clear as I can: I want you to kill two men. Both priests of the god of so-called mercy." As he utters the name of the god that most mortals believe in, he spits loudly, like the name on his tongue tastes bitter and foul. Your mind is still reeling from the revelation that he, essentially, wants you to be at his beck and call and be his personal concubine, nothing but a sex toy? This added request that you act as his assassin too, well, that doesn't even bother you. You've killed before. Many times. In self-defence and in cold blood. For money and to save your own neck. No, that part of the deal doesn't bother you one bit. It's the first demand he has that makes you hesitate. Just then, Piru announced, theatrically: "There. The wants and needs laid bare. The offer has been given. The things I can give you, for but the two things I demand in return. A cheaper deal has scarcely been heard of. A humongous discount of unprecedented magnitude, a deal with a kind demon like me that doesn't even involve the selling of your soul? Preposterous, they'll say! And they will, indeed they will." His voice echoes in the small prison cell. If your head wouldn't be spinning with the details of Piru's deal, you'd probably be expecting guards to come running to investigate who's making noises. Instead, you're too busy processing what you just heard and luckily the surroundings remain silent. no one has been alerted to your cell just yet. A part of you is intrigued by the deal, but another part of you is horrified by what the devil is saying. [["I need a moment to think about this..."]] [["Go to hell demon! You're disgusting!"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0015.png">An impossible decision, especially when made under pressure. But the clock is ticking. At any moment, the cultists may emerge and finish what they started. The fact that you even have this small moment is a miracle, one you would do well not to squander. If you're to pledge your body and become the blade of a demon, then you at least need a reminder of what he looks like... "Remove my blindfold and I shall consider your proposal." you tell the demon Piru. You already know what he looks like, since the two of you have met multiple times, he has always tried to lure you into a deal with him and you have always refused. Without hesitation or a comment from Piru, he does as you ask. With a snap of his fingers, the knot becomes loose and the blindfold falls to the floor of the cell. Now that you suddenly can see, you become aware of your own nakedness once more. You involuntarily blush, shrug it away and gaze upon the fifth archdemon Piru. He is tall, smoldering, masculine, with a rough jaw, and with skin as red as vibrant as a flame. In a demonic way he looks attractive, if you're into men who have a rough look. You can't help but glance at the well-defined muscles on his body, his chest, his arms... In the form he now chooses to show he has no wings or even a tail. He's never looked more irresistible and... human. Well, except for the horns on his head, and the color of his skin. And the devilish grin he's giving you, hinting at something malicious. But you know its the infernal nature a demon to be alluring... "Dare I assume, from the way your eyes stare at my form, that you find it attractive?" Piru asks, coy. His form is designed to inspire lust and awe in mortals. He knows what his presence is doing to a mortal mind, forcing you to like what you see, in a weird out-of-this-world sort of way. But you're not going to let him know that. "I can see that you're hesitating. Need I must remind you that I don't approach just any mortal with an offer to become my concubine? Now, with that said... Would you like a taste...?" he teases, making your heart skip a beat. A taste...? You find yourself saying... [["What kind of... taste?"]] [["No, I don't need a taste..."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0007.png">Your outburst is met with silence, but only for a moment. Piru scoffs, then the air in the room grows hot again. The familiar smell of burnt flesh fills your nose as a portal to the hells opens. "Stubborn and thick as a mule, I see. Don't cry about your fate when a ritual dagger pierces your heart. As you make your bed, so you must lie in it. Or in this case, die in it." Piru laughs, then leaves you alone in your prison cell, the heat and smell of the portal gone, leaving you alone, naked and shackled in your prison cell once more. And then you wait, testing the strength of the chains binding you in silence, listening, hoping for a miracle. Maybe the God of Mercy, The Merciful One, will finally show that he or she is real and come to your rescue? You've never been one to trust that particular god before, but now is as good a time as any to begin. You utter a silent word of prayer, but as you expected, no one answers your whisper. A while later, you hear footsteps approaching your cell. Your heart skips a beat as you listen carefully. Keys rattle in the lock to your cell, and then it opens, multiple sets of footsteps announcing the presence of at least four visitors. They're surprised to see the ball gag on the floor, you can hear it from their discussions. Then the men grab you and unlock the chains keeping you bound to the floor and ceiling, leaving on the chains keeping your limbs bound together and immobile. [[Scream as the cultists drag you away|bad ending 2]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0013.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... There you have it. The ugly truth. The naked truth. Nothing vague or cryptic about that. Your cheeks are blushing as he describes desires that you didn't know you had... Does he see straight into your soul, uncovering a truth you didn't know was there, or is he manipulating you? After all, most of your "dark lusts", as Piru puts them, have been thoughts. Fantasies. A wonder at what could be. Yet here he is, offering you everything you've wanted, and didn't know you wanted, and more... Before you can think further on the matter, Piru interrupts your thoughts. He has more plans for you. [[Stunned, you listen to Piru as he continues his list...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0020.png">The archdemon's eyes narrow to suspicious slits as you utter the words, but he tentatively nods. "Such is your right as a weak mortal, bargaining for her pathetic life. But I warn you not to push your luck. You're in no position to make demands." Piru points out, glancing up and down your naked body, his gaze lingering a while too long at your breasts. Nervously, you swallow to clear the clump that snuck its way into your throat. You're on thin ice now, Taru. You'd best choose your next words carefully, or the demon might leave you here to rot instead... You go through the deal again in your mind. Essentially, he will release you from your chains, ensure you can recover your gear and escape this place alive. And once that's done, he will help you get rid of the soul binding placed upon you that shackles your soul to The Fathomless Hunger. And in return, he wants you to be his assassin in the mortal realm, killing two priests of the God of Mercy. Doing so would certainly bring down the wrath of the God of Mercy, and any help you could hope to gain from that deity would surely wither. But Piru also wants you to be his personal concubine, to call you into his realm once a day for an hour to torture and fuck in any way he likes... You must accept his help out of here. And for that, you must either accept being his concubine or his assassin. So, the only thing you can remove from his side of the deal is the promise of his help to break your soul binding. But that means... If you accept being his assassin, and in return only accept that he helps you out of here... Then you'll not get his help in breaking the soul binding, and you will have to kill the priests of the God of Mercy, ensuring that the deity will be angry with you and not help you either... A very risky prospect indeed, closing two potential doors of salvation like that. After a moment of consideration, you reach your conclusion... [['"On second thought, I accept the terms as they are."'|"I accept the terms. I'm ready to make my pledge."]] [[Choose the less risky option. You'll be his concubine, and he will help you escape. But he will not help break the soul binding and you will not be his assassin.]] [[Choose the risky option. You'll be his assassin, and he will help you escape. But he will not help you break the soul binding and you will not be his concubine.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to true>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to true>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0021.png">When you utter the words, your heart sinks, suddenly turning to a clump of stone in your chest. "Excellent..." Piru says, smiling from ear to ear, a sinister look on his face. Then, with a blinding flash, a floating parchment and quill appear before him. Magical floating parchment and quill, but that's not the thing that catches your eye. No. That's no ordinary quill. It's not a feather, but a human finger bone, gnarled and pointy. And the parchment... It's bloody and red on one side, dripping blood onto the prison cell floor, and light brown on the other side. It looks like a piece of skin cut from... You grow sick in your stomach. The parchment is made from human skin, freshly cut... [["Shall we begin?" the fifth archdemon Piru says with a smile on his face.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0007b.png">Your statement is met with a disappointing silence. Then the archdemon Piru scoffs and air in the room grows hot again as he opens a portal with a snap of his fingers. The familiar smell of burnt flesh fills your nose as a portal to the hells opens. "What a truly disappointing turn of events. You're stubborn and thick as a mule, I see. Well, don't cry about your fate when a ritual dagger pierces your heart. As you make your bed, so you must lie in it. Or in this case, die in it." Piru says, then walks through the portal and leaves you alone in your prison cell, the heat and smell of the portal gone, leaving you alone, naked and shackled in your prison cell once more. And then you wait, testing the strength of the chains binding you in silence, listening, hoping for a miracle. Maybe the God of Mercy, The Merciful One, will finally show that he or she is real and come to your rescue? You've never been one to trust that particular god before, but now is as good a time as any to begin. You utter a silent word of prayer, but as you expected, no one answers your whisper. A while later, you hear footsteps approaching your cell. Your heart skips a beat as you listen carefully. Keys rattle in the lock to your cell, and then it opens, and four robed cultists enter your cell. They're surprised to see the ball gag and blindfold on the floor, but quickly remedy the situation, putting the blindfold back on your face. One of the men Then the men grab you and unlock the chains keeping you bound to the floor and ceiling, leaving on the chains keeping your limbs bound together and immobile. NOTE FROM DEVELOPER: Taru's Infernal Pledge is a work in progress! We're currently in the process of replacing all placeholder art with proper scenes. We are also in a transition period between an old art-style and a new. You will see old art style or placeholder images from now on. [[Scream as the cultists drag you away|bad ending 3]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0014.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... Just then, Piru announced, theatrically: "There. The wants and needs laid bare. The offer has been given. The things I can give you, for but the two things I demand in return. A cheaper deal has scarcely been heard of. A humongous discount of unprecedented magnitude, a deal with a kind demon like me that doesn't even involve the selling of your soul? Preposterous, they'll say! And they will, indeed they will." His voice echoes in the small prison cell. If your head wouldn't be spinning with the details of Piru's deal, you'd probably be expecting guards to come running to investigate who's making noises. Instead, you're too busy processing what you just heard and luckily the surroundings remain silent. no one has been alerted to your cell just yet. [["I need a moment to think about this..."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to true>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0021.png">You explain to the devil that you do not want to be his concubine and do not want him to pleasure or torture you, and in return he does not have to help you break the soul binding of The Fathomless Hunger. Piru regards you with his demonic, fiery eyes, crossing his arms as you talk. "So you want your soul to inevitably be gorged by The Old Poison, consumed an eternity?" Piru asks rhetorically, not expecting an answer. Of course you don't want that, but you also don't want to be his concubine... The very thought makes you sick. You realize you will have to kill the priests of the God of Mercy. And any chance of getting their God's help will be gone. You'll have to find a third way of releasing the binding on your own. However, you do not let Piru know any of your thoughts. Instead, you simply shrug and nod. "I'll take my chances." you proudly proclaim, more confidently than you feel. "Very well." Piru announces. Then, with a blinding flash, a floating parchment and quill appear before him. Magical floating parchment and quill, but that's not the thing that catches your eye. No. That's no ordinary quill. It's not a feather, but a human finger bone, gnarled and pointy. And the parchment... It's bloody and red on one side, dripping blood onto the prison cell floor, and light brown on the other side. It looks like a piece of skin cut from... You grow sick in your stomach. The parchment is made from human skin, freshly cut... [["Shall we begin?" the fifth archdemon Piru says with a smile on his face.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to true>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0021.png">You explain to the devil that you do not want to be his assassin, and in return he does not have to help you break the soul binding of The Fathomless Hunger. Piru regards you with his demonic, fiery eyes, crossing his arms as you talk. "So you want your soul to inevitably be gorged by The Old Poison, consumed an eternity?" Piru asks rhetorically, not expecting an answer. Of course you don't want that, but you also don't want to be his assassin and kill the priests of the God of Mercy. Hopefully, their God can help you break the binding instead... But you let Piru know nothing of your thoughts. Instead, you simply shrug and nod. "I'll take my chances." you proudly proclaim, more confidently than you feel. "Very well." Piru announces. Then, with a blinding flash, a floating parchment and quill appear before him. Magical floating parchment and quill, but that's not the thing that catches your eye. No. That's no ordinary quill. It's not a feather, but a human finger bone, gnarled and pointy. And the parchment... It's bloody and red on one side, dripping blood onto the prison cell floor, and light brown on the other side. It looks like a piece of skin cut from... You grow sick in your stomach. The parchment is made from human skin, freshly cut... [["Shall we begin?" the fifth archdemon Piru says with a smile on his face.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> <<modifyNPCDisposition "Piru" 2>> <</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> <<modifyNPCDisposition "Piru" 2>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center_smaller" src="img/ch1/1-0022.png">Realization hits you as the floating finger shivers with excitement to write your pledge upon the bloody human skin. This is it. He won. Piru finally got what he wanted. Your body. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>As a concubine. <</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>As an assassin. <</if>>Did you make a good bargain here? Under these circumstances, there was no way you'd come out winning. But at least you'll live to fight another day. "Brace yourself and repeat after me..." Piru instructs you. "I, the mortal Taru Nopsa, pledge my body to the Splendor Demon Majesty, the fifth archdemon of the hells, Piru." As he speaks, the floating finger serving as his quill trembles, awaiting your words... [[Repeat the demon's words...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0023.png">As soon as you repeat the words, you feel a stinging pain on your back, like someone's clawing at your skin with razor-sharp talons! You cry out silently, trying to get a glance behind you. Shackled as you are, you cannot see what's assaulting you, but you think you get a glimps of another floating finger quill, sleek with blood... In front of you, the other finger is writing bloody red letters onto the human skin parchment... With horror you realize that the same words are being etched onto your back! Piru smiles at your wide eyes filled with terror. "Regrets? It's too late to back away now. You've already pledged your body to me. Consider the ramifications if we don't add the limitations and details of our deal..." he says, a gleeful glint in his eyes. You stare at the demon, back aching from fresh wounds, blood flowing down your back. You should never have accepted this deal, but it's too late now. You feel the words of power binding you to him, invisible chains just as real as the shackles binding you in this cell. Piru continues talking, listing the details and limitations of the pledge. You repeat the words, agreeing upon the limitations, feeling your freedom return to you as the limitations remove the power Piru holds over you. Your back is a bloody mess, raw and throbbing with pain, but you clench your teeth and through sheer willpower fight your way through it. It's over soon... Then, with the details and limitations laid out, the final agreement on the limitations remains. "Now, repeat these final words:" Piru says. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>"I, Taru Nopsa, pledge that I will pleasure her master, Piru, whenever he wants, in any way he wants, within the limitations and boundaries agreed upon in this pact." Piru announces. <</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"I, Taru Nopsa, pledge my blade to Piru, to slay the two priests of The Merciful God, as agreed upon in this pact."<</if>> The magic between a mortal and a demon is more powerful than your will. The words of power and the spoken agreement you've made with him thus far compel you to open your mouth and repeat the words. [[Helpless, you witness yourself repeating the words...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0026.png">The solid wooden door blocking your way out of the cell stands firm as you give it a push. Locked from the outside, of course. Well, you need to get the guard to open the door for you then. But he expects you to be gagged and shackled here, what could you do to get his attention? Any sound you make should be authentic, so you hesitantly pick up the gag, wipe the dirt and spit from it and put it into your mouth without locking the strap. Right. What now? After thinking it through, you decide to... [[Try to entice him to take advantage of a helpless woman. Moan seductively and loudly - like you enjoy being shackled.]] [[Scream into the gag like you're in great pain.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0027.png">Your screams of fake pain echo in your cell as you press yourself against one of the walls next to the door. In your right hand, you wield the infernal dagger Piru gave you, in your mouth the ball gag for authenticity. Between screams, you listen. You hear nothing. Again you scream, repeating the process. [[Eventually, you hear something. Footsteps...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0027.png">Your sexual moaning echoes in your cell as you press yourself against one of the walls next to the door. In your right hand, you wield the infernal dagger Piru gave you, in your mouth the ball gag for authenticity. Hopefully, the guard is a perverted bastard who'll come running. Between moans, you listen. You hear nothing. Again you moan again, repeating the process. [[Eventually, you hear something. Footsteps...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0028.png">The rattle of keys signals that he's just outside your door. With disgust you make a final sound, then you spit out the ball gag and ready yourself to lunge as soon as the door opens. Come on, be alone... Be alone... The door opens up a fraction, slowly. Now. You throw yourself at the door with all your weight, smacking the solid wood straight into the unsuspecting guard's face. A satisfying crunch of his clay mask breaking, and hopefully a nose, rewards your efforts and the door opens up wide enough for you to slip out. The cursing and disoriented guard reaches for his sword... You'll need to choose your next moves carefully... <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A disoriented cultist guard stands before you. His clay mask is shattered and his nose is bleeding from the impact of the door hitting his face. He has reached for his sword...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "Kill the guard">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Attack the guard (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl1">><</link>><<else>><<link "Attack the guard (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0030.png">Key in hand, and now with bloodstained naked feet, you make your way down the corridor, leaving a trace of footprints on the hard stone surface. Soon, your feet are no longer wet with blood, having painted the whole corridor red. And then you reach it. The door Piru promised would contain your gear. The key slides into the old lock, metal scraping against metal. You turn the key, then open the door, peeking inside. The room is dark, and unlit. You grab the lone torch illuminating this side of the corridor, then head inside. The room looks like an unorganized mess of a warehouse. Piles of useless garbage and junk are littered on shelves, on the floor and in chests. So this is how much they appreciated your custom leather armor, your expensive climbing equipment and your efficient thieves tools? Throw it all in here with the rest of the worthless crap. It's fine... It's fine. Time to find your stuff. It takes a moment to find anything in the disorganized mess of a room, but eventually you do. It's all there, thrown haphazardly into a chest with something that looks like rotting fur. Disgusted, you pick your stuff up and give the clothing and armor a thorough shake. [[Finally you can get dressed. Put on your gear.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0032.png">At least four armed cultists are pointing at you, spears in their hands. They're running your way, shouting. Fuck! "Oh how deliciously your heart beats in a panic... Ah... If I were you, I'd take the door to your right." Piru instructs from your head, his voice calm, amused, basking in the chaotic panic that threatens to take hold of you. You choose to put your faith in the devil. After all, he did promise to guide you out of here. Your grand escape is a blur that you can't quite recall. You remember glancing around and behind all the time, hearing the cultists right at your heels. The demon's voice in your head, sometimes mocking, sometimes laughing, sometimes calm, guides you through the maze of corridors and rooms. A left turn there, avoiding the door to the right, only to have the right door open a second later with a new group of masked and robed fanatics shouting after you, joining the chase. The feeling of being a moth trapped in an angry beehive. Then finally. Your chance to escape. An open window. Without missing a beat or slowing down, you pull out your grappling hook. Then, true to your nickname as 'Bolt' you jump out of the window. Mid-air, you throw the grappling hook at the opposite building's roof, then brace yourself for impact as the wall of the building greets your feet. The impact is hard, almost knocking the air out of you. Through gritted teeth, you start climbing the rope upward, practically running vertically along the wall. Then, with a final heave, you make it onto the roof. But you don't stop there. With barely contained panic in your chest, you run across the familiar rooftops of Valkama, the full moon Mundilfari guides your way, the ever-watching patron of thieves. Even though you lost the cultists a long time ago, you continue running, as far away as your shaking legs can take you. Until you can't take another step. It's then that you decide that this rooftop is as good as any for a break... And with those thoughts, you slump down, exhausted, panting, gasping for air. [[You made it. You're out. And alive.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0035.png">Some would say it's a necessary evil to get the city through the winter. But the fact that the city has grown to the gigantic size it is today was, in your opinion, not necessary. If the city were smaller, there wouldn't be a need to slaughter these beautiful creatures in droves. But as it is now, the city is practically reliant on them. Their fat makes for oil, which keeps the city lit and warm. Their black blood makes for a local delicacy, black blood sausages. The bones are made into jewelry and tools. And the meat is salted and dried, eaten throughout the winter. Even the meat obtained during the spring harvest (or slaughter in this case) is dried and stored for the next winter. But look at you. Reflecting on the sad fate of the flying whales, the Flugandi Hvalr, when you yourself were almost slaughtered today. Maybe you have a new appreciation for life, which makes you sympathetic to the whales too. Or maybe you just needed to think of something else for a moment, to properly calm down. And now you have. And with it comes clarity. What the hell were you thinking!? You've sold your body to an archdemon.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> To be his personal concubine.<</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> To be his assassin here in the mortal realm.<</if>> And not just any archdemon, but the same one as your mother. Luckily, this demon only has a hold of your body. Or well... Maybe not so lucky after all, since your soul is owned by The Soul Eater... <<if $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding is true>>At least the demon promised to break that binding and free your soul, so that's something.<</if>> [[Reflect on your next moves.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0010.png">"First, a question... What happened to my mother? Why did she pledged herself to you?" You demand an answer, hoping that the devil won't walk out by your inquiries. "Well now. Those questions are neither here nor there, are they? But just this once, I will answer a few questions not related to your pledge. If you must know, your mother sought me out. She needed power, raw and undiluted. And I gave it to her. As I recall it, she was determined to eradicate the cult of The Old Poison, trying to stop its spread in the city, to prevent any more souls from being devoured. A bit poetic and ironic, don't you think, considering your current predicament?" The devil laughs. Truly? She never told you anything about this. But that could explain why you saw less and less of her over the years... You choose to push your luck a bit, asking another question outside the pledge... "And what about her death? How did she die?" You ask, hoping to finally get some clarity on the subject. Piru sighs, then with an impatient tone answer: "A tragedy and a waste. One day she simply swam out into the ocean, all by herself, and was subsequently killed by vicious sharks." She... What? You can't believe what you're hearing, but you can feel the words ring true. He isn't lying, you can sense it, and the power of the negotiation ensures that. But the devil is getting angry with you. From now on, you should keep your questions purely related to the pledge the two of you are about to conduct... You ask your questions, starting with the one you deem most important: [["Did you set me up, to try to force me to make a pledge to you?"]]

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Journal</h1> <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> <<displayQuestsFunction >> <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter Selection</h1> Return to story: <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> (not implemented yet)

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0034.png">But you know that's not why the people are here. Why people are rich. Why the rich want services and goods. And why the people have come here from all over the world to live and trade. No, the real reasons people come to the city and stay here are business and greed, in one way or another. The natural underground caverns of the city stretch out for miles into unknown depths, ripe with precious metals and gems of all kinds. You overheard someone claiming, after a hefty night of drinking mind you, that the mines of Valkama provide the known world with over nine tenths of the gems and metals. A grand claim, one that you cannot dispute or prove, but you do know that the mining guilds are among the richest in the city. And the way the city keeps itself warm in the winter? Oil, made from whale fat, in abundance. Twice a year, at the very late end of fall just as your breath freezes in the air and then again in the spring when the snow has melted, thousands of Flugandi Hvalr make their journey from the icy seas of the north to the warmer waters of the south, or back. Magical, massive and majestic creatures those whales. Nearly everyone in Jaerwik participates in the hunt when they come flying over the mountain peaks. Like banks of clouds they gather, massive shapes of flesh. Like countless arrows in the sky fired from the deep oceans of the far north. Their flight over Jaerwik and Valkama is a sight to behold, newcomers to the region simply cannot believe their eyes. Heck, even someone like you who's lived here all her life for 21 years still marvels at the flight of the whales. But then the slaughter begins. Cannons fire from high towers in the city, from strongholds in the mountains, ascending death upon the slowly flying clouds of whales. Their wounded lose height, descend, only to be brought down by another volley of cannon fire. Thousands of whales sing in mourning of their fallen kin, but fly on, slowly, leaving their dead behind. Such a brutal end to such beautiful creatures. Their bleeding wounds paint the city dark with their black blood, and those who succumb to their wounds fall into the mountains, the fields and farms outside the city, or the ocean. Every year, at least two dozen fall into the city itself. But even in death, the creatures are majestic, choosing to land softly onto the rooftops or streets. Rarely is anyone crushed to death by their descent, but a few unlucky ones who aren't paying attention find themselves flattened to death by a slowly descending mountain of flesh. A hundred whales lie dead every time, and yet every time there seems to be an endless supply of more flying whales darkening the sky. And then the harvest begins, keeping everyone busy for a week or two. Even the mines shut their operations during this time, to harvest the precious fat and meat of the Flugandi Hvalr. [[It's a bloodbath that takes the city through the winter.]]

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Lore</h1><<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> Map of Jaerwik: <img class="mapWorld" src="img/jaerwik.jpg"> Map of the capital city of Jaerwik, Valkama: <img class="mapCity" src="img/valkama.png"> <h2 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Dramatis personae</h2>Taru 'Bolt' Nopsa (this is you!) - The main heroine of our story, the 21 year old Taru Nopsa. A criminal, thief and sometimes assassin, who's gotten into a ton of trouble over the years. But nothing compares to the mess she finds herself in at the beginning of our story. Slim in build, pale skin like a typical native of Valkama, with deep green eyes and a long black hair. Taru has never known her father, and so when her mother, Tyrni Nopsa, died, she was taken in by a local gang of ruffians and she's been with them ever since. She goes by the nickname 'Bolt' due to her fast reflexes and quick thinking. <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">In the mortal realm</h4>Tyrni Nopsa - The departed mother of Taru, who died a few years ago under strange circumstances. She swore a pledge to a devil many years ago, for reasons Taru never understood. Tyrni was seen as a witch by some in Valkama, and shunned in those circles, while embraces in others. <h5 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Taru's old gang</h5>Arne 'Eagle' Hanki - The charismatic leader of the gang, Arne is a man who's seen a lot. His daughter Astrid Hanki is also in the gang. Astrid's mother died tragically in child-birth, while giving birth to Astrid. Ylva 'Fox' Jekku - The second-in-command and mission handler of the gang. Ylva is a tough lady who's a stickler for details. Astrid 'Snowflake' Hanki - The daughter of Arne Hanki, around the same age as Taru. Her father tries to keep her out of trouble as much as possible, never really giving her a chance to show what she's capable of. Ebbe 'Boar' Romu - Truly more boar than man, this hulking mass of flesh couldn't sneak his way out of trouble if his life depended on it. No, his skills lie elsewhere: Bashing skulls in. Einar 'Shadow' Alavire - Perhaps the best at staying unseen and unheard, Einar is a young man the same age as Taru, who joined the gang around the same time as she did. His sister is Erika Alavire. Erika 'Flare' Alavire - The stunningly beautiful and ample-breasted sister of Einar Alavire, just a year younger than Einar. Where she lacks skills of stealth and strength, she makes up for with raw charm and looks. Kerr 'Lurker' Apea - Describing Kerr as a man who sees the glass as half-empty would be an understatement. Nevertheless, his prowess with the blade is unmatched by anyone in the gang. Combine that with a touch for stealth that rivals Einar's and you've got yourself a deadly assassin. Kerr is typically the one who takes care of the dirty work of the gang. Hulda 'Mouse' Hiiri - A young teenage girl who lost her parents to sickness a few years ago. Arne took her in and she is well loved by almost everyone on the gang. Balder 'Little Ball' Voihke - Another orphan taken in by Arne, just like most of the young members of the gang. Balder is but a boy, no more than nine summers old. However, he's already showing quite the talent for pick-pocketing. <h5 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Other Characters</h5>Tryton - An ex-priest of The God of Mercy. Now an anointed worshipped of The Fathomless Hunger. He shuns the cult of fanatics sacrificing souls in fear of The Fathomless Hunger. He, instead, seeks to find enlightenment in his lord's wisdom. A prestigious royal advisor. Opettaille - A priest of The God of Mercy, holding the rank of Inquisitor Exarch at the Valkama grand temple. Piru - The Splendor Demon Majesty, the fifth archdemon of hell, Piru is a tall devil with blazing red skin and fiery yellow eyes. Tyrni, Taru's mother, pledged herself to him many, many years ago. <h2 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">World Details</h2>Jaerwik and Valkama - Our story takes place in the metropolitan city of Valkama, the capital city of Jaerwik. They are located in the cold northern regions of the known world. Jaerwik is a country dominated by mountains and glaciers. Jaerwik is a male necrocracy, where the rule and law of its original dead founder Colematoin Icunen Veaigi "The undying eternal twilight" is still followed. Colematoin's descendants rule over Jaerwik as royalty and aristocrats. Some say Colematoin is still alive, directly ruling over Jaerwik to this day, a thousand years after its foundation. In Jaerwik, birthdays are not celebrated. Instead, livingdays are celebrated each year on the day the person was born, where friends and family throw a party to commemorate the fact that you have not died yet. This is an age-old tradition that mimics the traditions of the royal line of Colematoin's reign, where lavish parties are organized to celebrate the livingday of the royalty. For an unknown reason, most of the royal line die young, never experiencing their 50th summer. Another quirk of Jaerwik culture amongst the common folk comes from this well-known fact: To die young from natural causes is seen as a royal blessing, a hint that there is royal blood in your veins. The current ruler of Jaerwik is King Kodrick the fifth of his name, a direct descendant of Colematoin. In Valkama, architectural styles clash from cultures all over the known world. Despite being located so far to the north, people from all over the world travel there and choose to stay. They come for the ore mined from deep underground caverns below the city, and to hunt the Flying Whales, Flugandi Hvalr, that make their migrations to the south and back north twice a year. Valkama is known for its universities and its places of worship. All religions are welcome in the region. Deities - The Fathomless Hunger. Also known as The Eternal Darkness, The Abyss, The Deep One, The Old One, The Soul Eater. Demons and devils prefer to call it The Old Poison, while worshippers of it sometimes call it Astorolus. A cruel, ancient, god that devours souls. It has fanatical followers who believe sacrifice is necessary to appease the ancient, or else it will bring doom to the world and consume all life. The Mercyful God, also known as The God of Mercy. The predominant religious figure that the people of Jaerwik believe in. She rarely bestows boons on their followers, yet the belief in their power and benevolence is seen everywhere in Jaerwik. The archdemons of hell, always eager to meddle with mortal affairs. The known world is protected from their direct influence, but that only intrigues them more. They're always looking for new servants to pledge their loyalty, in exchange for power, wisdom, or whatever their hearts desire. And through their servants, they can act upon the world, shape it to their will. In truth, a demon or devil cannot harm a free human directly. Which is why they have their servants do their dirty work for them... The fifth archdemon is Piru, the Slendor Demon Majesty, the "prince" of demons. As the fourth archdemon, there is Rautmar, the Bringer of Desolation, whose shadow extinguishes the very stars. Third is Varjatar, the Enchantress of the Infernal Realm, who weaves sorceries that ensnare both gods and mortals alike. Second is Kaarnel, the Harbinger of Deceit, whose whispers can topple empires and shatter minds. And finally, the first archdemon of hells, Tulikor, the Lord of Perdition, who wields a fiery wrath that consumes all in its path. He is the current "king" of demons. <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0038.png">The familiar purring and screeching sound of the Hawk-owl, a small predatory bird native to Jaerwik and most often encountered in the mountain forests, leaves your lips and folded hands. Then you wait for the counter-signal. But only silence answers you. Surely they wouldn't all be asleep by now? You make the sound again, this time a bit louder. Still nothing. Well, shit. Grappling hook in hand again, you approach the attic from the opposite building, then carefully aim at the broken window. It's missing the frame and glass and everything, testifying to the fact that this warehouse has been abandoned for a long time. Soon the silence of the night is broken by the clinking sound of the metallic hook hitting the floor of the attic. Then you pull it taut and jump over the gap, just like you did when escaping the cultists. With ease, you make it up and in through the window. Then you glance around. There's no one here. Cautiously, you approach, stowing your grappling hook back into its slot in your belt. Where is everyone? "Einar...? Arne...?" you whisper into the empty attic. Something's not right... You turn the corner, glancing over at where you'd huddled up with blankets last night with the rest of the gang. It's empty. Not a trace of your gang anywhere. Fuck! "Ebbe? Erika?" you call out, slightly louder but still only a whisper. No reply. The place really is abandoned once more, your gang gone. Anger fills you as you start looking through every corner of the attic. What were they thinking, leaving like this!? You were gone for less than half the night! [[Frantically search the attic for clues]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0040.png">With a frustrating grunt, you realize there's nothing you can do right now. The gang has gone into hiding, and tracking them down in a city as large as Valkama will be nearly impossible. Your only hope is to meet up with Einar at the Rustic Fork Inn, A shady establishment best avoided, especially for a lone woman like you. It's right next to the Inner City Wall, on the western side, located between the University District and the Palace. But that's in two days. Before that, you have plenty of time to "borrow" some supplies. And you might want to investigate the priests of The Merciful God. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>After all, you did pledge to Piru that you would slay two of them. Which ones, you don't yet know though. <</if>>If nothing else, then they might be able to shed some light into the soul binding of The Fathomless Hunger. Or maybe even help you prepare an escape from Piru's pledge too. And of course, Piru will likely demand you pay him a visit as well... Feeling alone, betrayed and cold, you huddle up in a corner in the attic, wishing you had a blanket. You close your eyes, unable to find a comfortable position. Eventually, an uneasy sleep finds you and the thoughts in your head become blissfully silent. [[You fall asleep]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0042.png">You awaken sweaty in a brightly lit attic. The sun is shining brightly through the cracks in the walls and roof. It's already late morning and your stomach rumbles for breakfast. You can't shake the feeling that the strange dream that woke you wasn't a dream at all. It's like someone conjured themselves inside your head and spoke to you. A manifestation, or so the figure, Tryton claimed. Slowly, you rise, stretch your body and loosen the knots in your muscles. Can't make a habit out of sleeping on the floor... Your back feels as stiff as one of the planks you slept on. Right. First things first. Food. Then a backpack, blankets, supplies. Then you'll see where the day takes you. Maybe to the Divine District. Maybe to The Inner Gardens. Most likely to hell... And then in two days time, Rustic Fork Inn to meet up with Einar. Get some clarity on what actually happened last night. You climb up to stand on the window still, overlooking the city. As you glance back, you can't help but think back on all the memories in this place. The laughs you had in this hideout with your gang. Only memories, now that the gang has gone into hiding. You recall back at what now seems like the good times, when things were starting to look great for the gang. How the gang felt invincible back then. And at the biggest heist your gang had ever done. The gang had gathered right here, to discuss the details... [[Three months earlier...]]

<<set $currentCombatPassageLink to "Combat Passage lvl1">> <script>window.TaruLastPledge.initCombat(2, 6, 6);</script>

<<set $currentCombatPassageLink to "Combat Passage lvl2">> <script>window.TaruLastPledge.initCombat(3, 6, 7);</script>

<<set $currentCombatPassageLink to "Combat Passage lvl3">> <script>window.TaruLastPledge.initCombat(4, 6, 8);</script>

That's it for the tutorial! Now, let the story begin... [[Start the game|Start the game 1]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0029.png">Before you know it, it's already over. Your experienced and deft hands know exactly what to do. Your hand clutching the dagger finds the exposed arteries on his throat, severing them with ease. As the guard's eyes grow wide and his throat lets out a gurgling sound, blood gushing everywhere, you hear something. Did the dagger just... Sigh? The blood staining the dagger disappears into the blade, soaked up by the hungry soul within. Damn. Piru wasn't joking. The guard falls down with a soft thud, his robes cushioning the fall. In his belt, the keys Piru promised would be there. Still completely naked, you waste no time. You crouch over the bleeding man, unable to avoid the growing pool of blood as you do so. A swift cut of the belt and the ring of keys is yours. The long corridor is empty, dimly lit by a single torch at each end. Multiple rows of cells, just like yours, line the corridor. What the hell is this place? This is a proper dungeon. This cult has a lot more resources than you expected, to be in possession of a dungeon of this size. But never mind that. You need to stay focused. [[Time to fetch your gear. Go to the right, towards the end of the corridor.]]

<h1 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Combat Training</h1><<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> Tutorial: [[Combat Tutorial Page]] Here you can test the combat system of the game at any time and jump back into the game when you're ready. First, choose a difficulty: [[Level 1 (easy)|CombatTrainingLevel1]] [[Level 2 (normal)|CombatTrainingLevel2]] [[Level 3 (hard)|CombatTrainingLevel3]]

Level 1 (Easy) <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> Or continue to training: <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A tutorial enemy stands before you, waiting patiently for you to make a move...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "CombatTrainingLevel1">> <</silently>><<link "Start Training" "Combat Passage lvl1">><</link>>

Level 3 (Hard) <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> Or continue to training: <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A tutorial enemy stands before you, waiting patiently for you to make a move...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "CombatTrainingLevel3">> <</silently>><<link "Start Training" "Combat Passage lvl3">><</link>>

Level 2 (Normal) <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> Or continue to training: <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A tutorial enemy stands before you, waiting patiently for you to make a move...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "CombatTrainingLevel2">> <</silently>><<link "Start Training" "Combat Passage lvl2">><</link>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <<set $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup to false>> <<set $ch2_took_drugs to false>> <<set $ch2_witness_BDSM to false>> <<set $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself to false>> <<set $ch2_furious_woman_alive to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0101.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 2 - The Opportunity (Flashback)</h4>Three months earlier... Ebbe 'Boar' Romu yawned loudly, baring his yellow teeth for all to see, then scratched his crotch absentmindedly. "We taking the job or not?" he asks, to no one in particular, glancing around at the gathered members of the gang. Then, having said what he wanted, he turns his attention back to the mug of ale on his hand. The gang has recently found a new hideout, an abandoned warehouse attic in the industrial harbor. The gang just moved in, and the layout of the place is new to you all. The boarded-up windows do a poor job at keeping the winter's cold outside. Far more effective at warming the place are six portable whale oil radiators, one below each boarded-up window, burning cheap and abundant black oil at a steady pace. They keep the temperature in the attic at a barely tolerable level. The whole crew is here, the little boy Balder sitting on a wooden crate in the corner, eating an apple. The young teenage girl Hulda is sitting alone in a corner of the room, frantically brushing her hair in front of a broken mirror. Around the dangerously tilting round wooden table sits Arne, the leader of the gang. A large man, but sharp and kind to his crew, a fair leader by all accounts. On his right side sits Ylva, his second-in-command. A tough broad, a decade older than you. She's seen a lot, you can tell by the look in her eyes. Where Arne is calm and collected, she is direct and to the point. Not enough to be called impatient or impulsive, but certainly a fair bit more of both traits than Arne. Currently, you're sitting on Arne's left side, glancing around the room at the rest of the crew. To your left sits Astrid, Arne's daughter, silently observing the discussion. At the opposite side of the table sits Ebbe who'd just spoken, a man even larger than Arne, known not for his wit or finess, but for his bluntness. A kind soul at heart, but an intimidating figure to strangers. Kerr sits silently to his right, dirty boots on the table, presently in the process of removing some gunk from his teeth with a pick. Einar and Erika, brother and sister, sit on Ebbe's left. Einar gives you a wink and a nod, which you return. At least the two of you are in a silent agreement: You should take the job. Having reached your silent agreement, you both turn your attention to Arne. [[Await Arne's verdict]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0102.png">Arne sighs. "It sounds like the opportunity we've been waiting for. But I suppose we can vote for it." he says, holding up the letter that started this debate in the first place. "We've been going back and forth on this long enough, so I'll just read this again and then we can vote." Arne clears his throat, then reads out loud the contents of the letter. "To Arne and his associates, It has come to my attention that you are certified professionals when it comes to procuring something of substantial worth, without consulting the owner. If the rumours are true, then I have a magnificent proposal for you. You help me "permanently borrow" an item I desire, and you shall receive a bushel of pure cold coins as a reward. Join me at the prestigious Moonlight Tavern in the Aristocratic District to discuss the details. Yours truly, HD" All of you know who HD is. Hermes Dirk, a wealthy and well-known figure in the underground circles. Being contacted to perform a heist is a common occurrence, but the gang has never done something of this caliber before, to a client as prestigious as Hermes. In fact, that's the only reason you're even discussing this instead of immediately agreeing to it. Arne, and most others in the gang are, for a lack of a better word, intimidated. "How much is a bushel, again?" Erika asks, as usual focusing on the reward already. Arne waves his hand "Well we crunched the numbers with Einar here the other day and it should be well over 7000 coins..." Arne tentatively says. That's five times as much money as the gang makes in a year, all heist combined. You've already spent half the day debating what the target could be, to be worth so much to Hermes. The other half has been spent trying to figure out why Hermes would entrust an operation of this size on your gang. But no one says a word now. You've gone over it enough, back and forth, to and fro. "Enough talk. Let's vote. All in favor of accepting this job, raise your hand." Arne announces, raising his hand... You give a quick glance around the room. Einar nods to you, raising his hand. [[Raise your hand]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0103.png">Almost everyone in the room raises their hand, except Kerr and Ebbe, and the little ones Hulda and Balder who aren't even paying attention to the discussion. Tentatively, Ebbe folds under the pressure, raising his hand. But Kerr ignores everyone as he leans back, gazing at the roof, toothpick in mouth. "I think Hermes is full of shit." he simply says, referring back to the discussion of whether or not Hermes's offer is serious or not. "Good to know, but it's settled. We'll meet with Hermes, and see what he has to say. Then, we'll decide the next move. Ebbe, Einar, I want you with me. Ylva, you're in charge until we get back. Meeting adjourned." Arne announces. The gang scatters, and you scramble to your feet, meeting Einar and Erika in their sleeping quarters. Einar is already packing for the trip. He's wearing a warm winter cloak, ready to face the harsh weather of the late winter months in Valkama. "Can't believe he chose your ugly face over my stimulating company." you comment, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bed made of thick blankets and a sleeping bag. Einar laughs as he rolls his sleeping bag into a tight bundle, shoving it into his backpack. "You'd be bored to death on this trip Taru. Besides, didn't you and Erika have plans with Astrid tonight?" he asks, always in the know. Erika, his sister, clearly shares everything with her brother. You shoot daggers at her with your eyes and she retorts by shrugging innocently, with a big grin on her face. "Erika! That was supposed to be a secret!" you whisper, glancing around your shoulder. Luckily, Arne, Ylva and others are busy discussing something in the other room. "Aha! Fear not, sweet maiden, for your secret is safe with me." he says, theatrically bowing his head, hand dramatically thrown to the side. "Sweet? Fuck off Einar!" you say, offended, as you throw your pillow at him. Erika rolls her eyes. [[You spend some time with Einar and Erika]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0104.png">Time flies by, and before you know it, Arne beckons Ebbe and Einar to join him. Packed and ready, the trio heads out, Ebbe with a tankard of ale in is hand, 'for the journey'. Ebbe said something about grabbing some better grub on town too, rather than the usual salted whale meat. You watch the trio leave with only a little envy. After all, you have a well-earned evening with the ladies at the tavern. "Old" fox Ylva wasn't invited, naturally, she is your half-boss and all. Full boss now that Arne is gone. No, tonight it's just you, Erika and Astrid. The afternoon gives way to the evening, and after the rest of the gang has gathered for a final meal together, the three of you excuse yourselves early. The rest of the gang are playing cards in the common room of the attic, whilst the three of you apply make-up in front of broken mirrors in the candlelight of your bedroom. Well, calling it a bedroom is an overstatement. It's just an empty room in the attic with no windows, and four thick blankets and warm sleeping bags strewn around. Here, Erika, Astrid, Einar and you sleep. Erika, her hair cascading over her shoulders, leans in close to her broken mirror, carefully applying a hint of shimmering eyeshadow. "I can't believe we're really going to do this." she whispers, excitement evident in her voice. You, with a mischievous grin, chuckle softly as you sweep a brush along your cheekbones. "It's about time we had some fun, don't you think? Besides, when was the last time we went out, just the three of us?" you reply. Astrid, usually the quietest of the trio, is biting her lip nervously and hesitates with her own makeup. You notice her hesitation and reach out to squeeze her shoulder. You try to come up with something reassuring to say. "You've got this, Astrid. We're in this together, remember? Besides, if we don't like it, we'll just head back here, alright?" Taking a deep breath, Astrid nods, determination flickering in her eyes. "You're right. I'm just nervous, is all. Tonight, I want to feel confident, and with you two there I'll be more than fine!" she notes. Just then Erika grins and nudges her playfully. "That's the spirit! And once we're at the Donkey's Drum Inn, we'll have plenty of distractions to keep any worries at bay." The three of you finish your make-up. "Alright, let's just wait for the others to fall asleep. Then we're out. Let's pretend to get some sleep." you declare, crawling into your sleeping bad. Erika blows out the candles, and they join you. [[Wait for the others to fall asleep]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0105.png">A while later, things have quieted down in the hideout. No one's playing cards in the common room. When a sufficiently long amount of time has passed, you stir awake, nudging Erika and Astrid to follow you quietly. The three of you sneak over to the sleeping quarter's boarded up window, carefully loosening the boards. Then, you throw a piece of rope down the wall, securing it. Astrid is the first to climb down, surprisingly agile for someone not wearing climbing gear. Rather, she, like you and Astrid, are wearing the latest fashion amongst the common folk: Simple woolen dresses in earthy tones, layered with practical linen aprons and accented by modest bronze brooches and leather belts. All of you are wearing thick cloaks on top, to keep you warm. "Come on Taru, is this necessary..." Erika whispers, pointing at the rope and the window, then shrugging at the ladder in the common room. You've gone over this already... Yes, it's necessary. You don't want to wake the others. She's just nervous, since she isn't as good a climber as Astrid and you. Whispering back, making sure no one wakes up, you say to her... [['"You can do this Erika. I\'ll make sure the rope holds from up here and Astrid will help you once you get close to the ground."'|continue scene]] [['"This is the only way to ensure no one wakes up. You do want to party, don\'t you?"'|continue scene]]

<h2 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Gameplay Tutorial</h2> Taru is a masterful assassin, putting her dagger to lethal use. She always needs just one strike with her dagger to defeat her enemy. However, she needs your help finding that opening in the enemy's defenses, by dodging, taunting, blocking, parrying, etc. Once the correct actions have been performed, the enemy defenses will be open and Taru will automatically perform the necessary strike to defeat the enemy. This is why you see no "attack" button in the combat: She does the attack for you, once you figure out the sequence of actions that break the enemy's defence. The tutorial button inside the combat system opens a textual explanation of how the game works. To access this Combat Tutorial Page again, you need to open the menu item "Combat Training" and from there select "Combat Tutorial Page". <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 1</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial1.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 2</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial2.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 3</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial3.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 4</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial4.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 1</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial5.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 2</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial6.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 3</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial7.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 4</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial8.png"> <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A tutorial enemy stands before you, waiting patiently for you to make a move...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "Done after tutorial">> <</silently>><<link "Give the combat a try" "Combat Passage lvl1">><</link>>

<h2 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Gameplay Tutorial</h2> <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 1</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial1.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 2</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial2.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 3</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial3.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Basics - part 4</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial4.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 1</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial5.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 2</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial6.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 3</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial7.png"> <h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Playing - part 4</h4> <img class="combat_tutorial" src="img/combat_tutorial8.png"> <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0016.png">He smiles at your question. "Pure lust. Carnal pleasures of the flesh. Of the mind. For this, I will need your complete surrender and willingness, for else I cannot bring you to my paradise." Piru reveals, opening up a portal to his realm. The smell of burning flesh greets your nose. You stare at the portal, a raw kind of energy pulsing from it, calling for you. As you stare into the depth of the fiery red swirling mass, you can't help but feel drawn to it. You want to go there. But your mother's warnings echo in your mind. Sometimes a taste is all you need to become helplessly addicted to something, and this is especially true for something offered by a demon. Somehow, you know that if you accept this taste, you will be unable to refuse the demon's deal anymore... Instinct tells you that saying yes to the taste is the same as saying yes to being his concubine. And yet... You want to do it. The portal beckons you to accept Piru's offer... [[Fight the feeling - refuse the taste.|"No, I don't need a taste..."]] [[Surrended to the feeling - accept the taste.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0019.png">You find the strength to tell the demo that a taste is not necessary... He simply smiles, shrugging. "Your loss, missing out on pleasures your mortal mind cannot possibly comprehend, no strings attached as they say." Piru muses. "Ready to make your pledge?" Pleasures or not, you need to focus on the important things. Escaping here alive, and the pledge. After a long while, weighing things in your head, you come to a conclusion. You say to the demon... NOTE FROM DEVELOPER: Taru's Infernal Pledge is a work in progress! We're currently in the process of replacing all placeholder art with proper scenes. We are also in a transition period between an old art-style and a new. You will see old art style or placeholder images from now on. [["I accept the terms. I'm ready to make my pledge."]] [["I want to alter the conditions of the pledge."]] [["I cannot accept these terms. I do not agree to this pledge."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_taste to true>> <<set $taru_concubine_level to 0>> <<set $passageAfterScene to "Return To Negotiations">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0018.png">"I would... I would like a taste. I surrender myself to you..." you whisper, somehow out of breath. The delighted smile on Piru's lips does not match the hint of malice in his eyes. He snaps his finger, in an instant removing all the chains keeping you bound. When the chains loosen, you collape on the floor. But before you have time to think, he grabs you, throwing you into his portal head first! It feels like the flesh on your skin is burnt away as a blinding light consumes you... NOTE FROM DEVELOPER: Taru's Infernal Pledge is a work in progress! We're currently in the process of replacing all placeholder art with proper scenes. We are also in a transition period between an old art-style and a new. You will see old art style or placeholder images from now on. <<piruSceneTransition >>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <<set $taru_concubine_level to 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0043.png">You land softly straight onto a king-sized bed, completely naked. A distinct smell of burning flesh lingers in the air. Over your head, the air shimmers with the afterglow of the portal, its infernal energies dissipating like embers in the night. You dare a glance around the hellish realm you now find yourself in. Everything has a red tint, like the very core of this world is ablaze. You roll out from the bed, wrapping yourself in a blanket to cover your modesty, your naked feet landing on the obsidian floor, smooth and cold underfoot, stretching out into the vast expanse of what must be Piru's bedchamber. The room is vast, an echo of ancient decadence and unfathomable desires. Above, the ceiling arches high, impossibly high, disappearing into a darkness that seems to pulse and breathe. Flickering chandeliers, wrought from bone and gold, dangle precariously from nothing, suspended in the air, casting their trembling light across the room. Shadows dance in the corners, twisting into shapes that whisper of forgotten sins and forbidden pleasures. Piru appears beside you, his eyes gleaming with a wicked glint. In this light, his skin practically glows. He looks both beautiful and terrifying at the same time. "The sincerest of welcomes to my inner sanctum." he purrs, his voice like velvet, rich, seductive. Your weak mortal mind cannot defy him here, you realize as you look into his eyes. It is in that moment you're reminded of the fact that you're completely naked, your exposed form a delight to the master of the house, no doubt. "Please, have a look around." Piru says, waving a hand in no particular direction. [[Take a tentative step forward]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_visit_feast to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_visit_inspect to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0044.png">You take a tentative step forward, your gaze drawn back to the massive bed draped in silks the color of fresh blood. The fabric shimmers with an otherworldly sheen, almost alive in its movements. The bedposts are carved from blackwood, etched with runes that pulse with a sinister, crimson light. Atop the bed, cushions and pillows are strewn haphazardly, inviting and yet somehow menacing in their abundance. Beyond the bed, a series of devices line the walls, their purposes both clear and horrifyingly ambiguous. Chains and manacles, wrought from dark iron and encrusted with gems that glow with a sickly green light, hang alongside racks of gleaming blades and whips. Each instrument is a work of art, cruel and beautiful, promising both exquisite pleasure and unimaginable pain. A grand fireplace dominates one wall, its flames a deep, unnatural blue, casting eerie shadows across the room. Above the mantle, a portrait of Piru in his true form, wings unfurled and eyes blazing, gazes down with a knowing smile. The fire's heat is palpable, suffusing the chamber with an oppressive warmth that contrasts starkly with the chill of the obsidian floor. To one side, a table laden with decadent food and drink beckons. Goblets of fine crystal hold wines that shimmer with an inner light, while platters overflow with exotic fruits and meats, their aromas tantalizing and strange. The sight makes your mouth water, any thoughts of hesitation gone, your mind no longer able to recognize the hidden dangers in every bite, every sip. Piru moves with a predatory grace, his presence both captivating and terrifying. "This is but a glimpse of my realm." he says, gesturing grandly. "Here, desires and nightmares are but two sides of the same coin. Indulge, and find your deepest longings—or your darkest fears—fulfilled." As his words linger in the air, you feel a shiver run down your spine. "What does it mean... To be pledged to you?" you ask, glancing at the rack of devices and the bed, then back at Piru. He shrugs. "Everything your mortal imagination can think of - and more besides. I propose we start simple. An act you mortals are quite familiar with indeed." he says, gesturing at the bed. The meaning behind his words are crystal clear.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>> "Since you are not my concubine, this is an invitation only. Not a demand... You are free to decline, assassin." he adds, locking you with his gaze.<</if>><</if>> Every fiber of your being wants to please him, for reasons you cannot control... Piru's bedchamber is a place where reality and fantasy blur, where every whim can be sated, every horror made real. It is a realm of temptation and torment, a sanctuary for the damned and the divine alike. And now, Piru offers you a taste of it, to explore, to survive, to understand... To become addicted to. But for a moment, curiosity takes hold of you as you glance around the room. The table with delicacies looks irresistible. And the rack of devices catches your attention. [[Feast on the delicious food.]] [[Inspect the devices lining the wall.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Intrigued, even though it was not part of your deal, you crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you...|Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>><<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Politely decline his offer, bowing your head submissively to you master.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_visit_inspect to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0046.png">You take another cautious step forward, your curiosity piqued despite the foreboding atmosphere. The allure of the unknown pulls you toward the devices lining the walls. As you approach, the flickering light from the blue flames casts shifting patterns across the cruel implements, making them seem almost animate. The first set of devices you examine are the chains and manacles. Crafted from dark iron and adorned with unsettlingly luminescent gems, they emit a sickly green glow that pulses rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat. You run your fingers along the cold metal, feeling the weight and solidity of the restraints. The gems embedded in the iron are warm to the touch, sending a faint, pleasant tingle through your fingertips. The sensation is disconcerting and comforting at the same time, and you find yourself quickly pulling your hand away. The impression lingers a moment, a ghostly reminder of the touch. Next, your eyes are drawn to the racks of blades. Each weapon is a masterpiece, the edges honed to a razor's sharpness. The blades vary in shape and size, from delicate, almost surgical instruments to massive, brutal cleavers. The metal glistens in the dim light, each blade seeming to hum with a latent energy, a promise of both precision and devastation. You can almost imagine the feel of the cold steel, the bite of the blade as it slices through flesh. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but you can't tear your eyes away from the craftsmanship. The whips are no less impressive, each one a work of twisted art. Some are braided leather, supple and flexible, others studded with spikes or embedded with shards of glass. You reach out to touch one, feeling the smooth, cool leather against your skin. The handle is intricately carved, fitting comfortably in your grip. For a moment, you can imagine the crack of the whip, the sharp sting of it against your flesh. It's both thrilling and terrifying, a perfect embodiment of the room's dual nature. As you continue to inspect the devices, you notice more obscure instruments whose purposes are less clear but no less ominous. A set of barbed hooks, a collection of serrated clamps, a series of what appear to be surgical tools, all arranged with meticulous care. Each item is exquisitely crafted, an object of beauty and horror in equal measure. Piru's voice breaks the spell of your inspection. "Magnificent, aren't they?" he purrs, stepping closer. "Each of these tools has a purpose, a story. They are instruments of transformation, of revelation. In the right hands, they can unlock truths. Unveil desires..." His words send another shiver down your spine. You step back, the reality of where you are and what you are considering crashing over you. This is a place of exquisite temptation and exquisite pain, a place where the line between pleasure and agony is thin and often crossed. And yet, you cannot deny the pull it exerts on you, the dark allure of discovering just how deep your desires—and fears—truly run. The bedchamber of Piru is a place of paradoxes, of seductive horrors and beautiful nightmares. As you stand there, surrounded by instruments of both pleasure and pain, you realize that you are about to be given a very real taste of what this realm offers. You try to form the words to say no to it all and demand Piru to send you back to your mortal realm. But nothing comes up, the power to refuse is gone. As soon as you accept the taste he offered, your mind and body was his... <<if $ch0_piru_visit_feast is false>>[[Feast on the delicious food.]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Intrigued, even though it was not part of your deal, you crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you...|Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>><<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Politely decline his offer, bowing your head submissively to you master.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_visit_feast to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0045.png">Drawn by an irresistible urge, you approach the table. Your fingers hover over the goblet before grasping it, feeling the smooth, cool crystal against your skin. You bring it to your lips, the shimmering wine pouring into your mouth. It tastes like the essence of dreams, sweet and intoxicating. You take a deep drink, the liquid sending a wave of warmth through your body, igniting every nerve with a euphoric fire. Next, you reach for a piece of fruit, its skin glistening with a dewy freshness. As you bite into it, the flavor explodes on your tongue, a symphony of sensations that make you crave more. You sample the meats, their rich, savory juices mingling with the sweetness of the wine, creating a harmony that drowns out any lingering caution. But as you indulge, a slow, creeping sensation begins to spread from your core. It starts as a gentle tingling, almost pleasant, but quickly intensifies into a burning heat that pulses through your veins. You feel your heart race, your breath quickens, as the corruption of Piru's realm deepens, taking hold of your very being. Your vision blurs, and the room seems to warp around you. The flames in the fireplace dance with a sinister life, the shadows they cast twisting into grotesque forms. The food in your hand appears to writhe, as if alive, yet you cannot stop yourself from consuming it. A dark, twisted pleasure wells up within you, overriding your sense of reason. Piru watches you with a knowing smile, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Do you feel it?" he asks, his voice a seductive whisper. "The power of my realm, coursing through you. Embrace it, and you will know pleasures beyond mortal understanding..." Your body responds to his words, a mix of fear and exhilaration flooding your senses. You feel a corruption of sorts spreading, intertwining with your very soul, making you a part of this dark, enchanting world. Every taste, and every breath binds you closer to Piru's domain, where temptation and torment are one and the same. You are no longer just a visitor in Piru's realm. You are becoming a part of it, ensnared by its dark allure, your fate entwined with its shadowy depths. And you love it. <<if $ch0_piru_visit_inspect is false>>[[Inspect the devices lining the wall.]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Intrigued, even though it was not part of your deal, you crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you...|Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>><<else>>[[Get this over with. The sooner you are out, the better. Crawl onto the bed, beckoning Piru to join you.]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[Politely decline his offer, bowing your head submissively to you master.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $piru_scene_one_BDSM to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0047.png">Completely naked, and realizing there's only one way out of this situation, you do what Piru expects a concubine like you should do. You walk over to the bed, then crawl up provocatively, acting a lot more confident than you feel. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>You're doing this of your own free will, right? Or...?<</if>><</if>> Something about this realm is changing how you behave, how you think. But you don't pay attention to it. No, your full attention is on Piru, who with a snap of his fingers stands completely naked before you. The defined muscles are a delight to your mortal eyes, and his member... You stare with wide eyes at the size of his cock. He sees the frightened look on your face and smiles, taking a step toward the bed. "All wounds heal perfectly in my realm, sweet Taru. Put your mind at ease." he says, calming you, his voice penetrating your very core. Instinctively, you crawl back a few feet when Piru makes his way to the bed. You're half-sitting, half-lying on your back, eyes fixed on the demon. He is on his knees, the damned smile of his taunting you as he leans forward, his hard erection threatening you like a sword. "What is your darkest desire, Taru? What do you crave... Ask, and be rewarded." Piru says, his voice commanding, his will absolute. A mere mortal like you doesn't stand a chance at the onslaught of a demon like Piru. And so you cave, telling him what you desire the most in that very moment... [[You desire passion and a gentle lover.]] [[You desire to be tied up and fucked properly.]] [[Your gaze goes to the rack of torture devices...]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[You snap out of it - decline his offer, submissively bowing your head to your master.|Politely decline his offer, bowing your head submissively to you master.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0017.png">When you land, the chair beneath you crashes hard against the stone floor of your familiar prison cell. The legs of the chair snap, sending you tumbling across the room. But you soften your landing, performing a safety roll with your arms, shoulder and back touching the floor as you spin around. And land softly on your naked feet, bruised, but unharmed. Your visit to the infernal realms has left you shaken. Somehow you ache to get back there, to the warmth, especially when you feel the cold of the mortal realm seeping into your bones... Piru stands behind you, and with a snap of his fingers, the chains in the prison cell come alive again, capturing you, pinning you down on the floor, onto your knees, just like you were before you were sent into his fiery realm. "Hey! What are you..." but Piru shushes you, ignoring your protests. "Simply returning things to the way they were before your little visit to my humble abode." he explains, shrugging off your curses. A moment later you calm down, realizing that you're once again in the same situation you were before. But this time, you can feel a hunger stirring within you. A hunger that now lusts for what Piru has to offer, the temptation of his realm undeniable. "Ready to make your pledge? To become my concubine? My blade in the mortal realm? In exchange, I will get you out of your current mess, and, in time, even help break the Old Poison's binding on your soul." he says, the familiar sly smile back on his lips. And in that moment you realize that you cannot say no. To any of it. Your visit, your taste of the demon's power has left your mortal husk damaged beyond repair. You find yourself saying to the demon... [["I accept the terms. I'm ready to make my pledge."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0061.png">"I... I desire a passionate and gentle approach." you whisper, butterflies churching on your stomach as Piru closes his eyes, nodding at your words. A cloud of smoke obscures his features for a moment, and when they disappear, you're looking at a softer Piru. His horns are gone, his muscles less defined but still visible. His features - handsome, his eyes - caring. And to your surprise, his cock, smaller. Perhaps the perfect size now, one could argue... When he speaks, his voice is softer, the deviousness and edge gone, the mischievous and malice nowhere to be heard. "Nothing wrong with going slowly. Is this more to your liking?" he asks, and when you simply nod in silence, he approaches, lying down next to you. His hands rest on your thigh, tracing your smooth naked skin from your knee all the way to your hip, his fingers barely touching you. His touch is hot, yet you shiver. You're lying on your back, naked in Piru's bed, while he softly caresses your skin with his left hand. Piru is lying on his side, his right hand now reaching up, softly lifting up your head. When he leans forward, he pulls you in ever so slightly, his warm breath smelling of flowers. You close your eyes, embracing yourself for a kiss, while Piru's caressing touch sends waves upon waves of nervous electricity through your body. Then Piru stops leaning in, your lips merely an inch from his. So close... From underneath your closed eyelids, you glance up at the demon. He is waiting, for you. Any barrier that you might've had before you entered his realm is gone, and so you helplessly feel yourself drawn to him as you... [[Kiss him]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0048.png">Piru sees where your gaze goes. "You wish to experience pain beyond what your mortal wit can comprehend?" he asks with a curious tone. When you nod, weakly, uncertain of what has possessed you, he laughs. "All in good time, Taru. But you're not ready for that. Your body may heal, but the scars it leaves on your mind are very real." he reveals, dismissing your darkest desires. Meekly, you nod. Piru, the master of this realm, knows best... With careful consideration, you decide between the two other thoughts that came to you... [[You desire passion and a gentle lover.]] [[You desire to be tied up and fucked properly.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[You snap out of it - decline his offer, submissively bowing your head to your master.|Politely decline his offer, bowing your head submissively to you master.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0049.png">"I desire to be bound and fucked..." you reveal, your true darkest desire known both to him and you. There it is, in the open, you finally coming to terms with what you desire the most of all things right now. Piru looks pleased. "You wish to be bound again, so soon? Very well. Show me your submissive side..." he says. No sooner has he spoken, when the rack of devices on the wall rattles. You glance over, and see a pair of handcuffs floating in the air, landing in front of you. A collar soon follows. "Go on. Take the collar. Feel the power it holds over you. How your breath catches when you imagine it on your neck." Piru demands, and his voice compels you do so as he says. You reach down, picking up the leather collar. Its smooth surface feels cool to your touch in this perpetually hot realm. Suddenly, your mouth is dry, as you imagine slipping it on, locking it in place, showing Piru that you're truly his... "Put it on, sub. Show me that you're mine." Piru orders, standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed, his fully erect penis resting on the bed sheets. You find yourself unable to resist his command... [[Submissively put the collar on.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0062.png">You reach up, hand brushing against the muscles on his chest as you do so, kissing the demon passionately on his inviting lips. They're soft, welcoming you, tasting you as you taste him. A hint of salt, savioury, yet fresh like mint. As your kiss deepens, you feel him pulling you closer with his right hand behind your head. And his left hand has found its way up, to your lonely perky breasts, which he now cups carefully. A moan escapes you, as you surrender to his touch, his mouth. Your lips part, your tongue seeking his. Finding it, you lure it in, allowing him full access to your open and willing mouth. Without missing a beat, Piru explores your mouth with his tongue, the sensation making you hot. Between your legs, a growing wetness has arrived, stirred awake by the pleasures promised in this realm and Piru's caressing tongue and touch. His left hand cups your breasts more firmly, squeezing the nipples softly. Pulling, but gently. You're breathing harder now, his breath joining yours as you... [[Reach down and touch his rock-hard erection.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0064.png">Your seeking hand finds what it's looking for, brushing against his bulging erection. As you wrap your fingers around it, squeezing softly, pulling its soft skin towards you and away rhythmically, you feel it. His desire awakening. Tongues still entwined, you feel his hand tracing down now, over your belly, circling your belly button until it reaches your pubic hair. He lightly pulls at them, teasing you, before he moves on to find you completely wet. His fingers brush against the entrance to your horny pussy, immediately getting soaked in your juices. Accidentally, you grab his penis harder when he thrusts his fingers into you. "Oohh..." you whimper, returning to jerking him off. He leaves your mouth alone, his attention turning to your breasts, knowing exactly what you need. At first, he kisses them softly, all around, while his fingers explore your wetness, circling, thrusting, softly fucking you. Then he pops one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently. Your moans are becoming incoherent, and your grasp on his erection is unfocused. But he doesn't seem to mind your increasingly pathetic attempts at pleasuring him as he continues working on you. [[Helplessly, you surrender to his touch, his kisses, hit exploring fingers deep within you.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0057.png">Blissful darkness embraces you, hugging you with warmth. When you awaken, an unknown amount of time later, you're still in Piru's infernal realm. He's sitting by the table alone, eating and drinking, back to his old self with clothes on. You on the other hand are lying in the bed, exhausted, yet relaxed. You are still completely naked. <<if $piru_scene_one_BDSM is true>>Miraculously, you feel completely normal. No pain left, no visible marks. Wounds truly heal fast here, don't they? You notice there are no signs of the chains, or the gag, that Piru put on you...<</if>> When you stir awake, Piru glances your way, emptying his glass in one smooth savoury gulp. "Ah, slept well, sweet Taru? Come, eat. Drink. You'll need your strength after that..." he says, standing up, holding out a chair for you. You feel it in your bones. A tiredness you've never felt before. Like all the strength in your muscles has been sucked dry. "Thank you..." you manage to stutter, throat dry. With weak steps, you make it to the table, where you slump down. Piru even throws a blanket around you, conjured out of thin air, as you sit down, hiding your modesty. As you nibble on the food, you can't help but wonder about the nature of the being before you and the realm you're currently in. The questions burn within you, even as you struggle to form coherent thoughts. Piru watches you with a curious smile, his eyes glinting with an otherworldly light. His smile taunts you. You must ask... [["Why are you smiling?"]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0058.png">"Why are you smiling?" you ask, voice hoarse but steadier now. Piru leans back, his chair creaking. "You humans are a most peculiar bunch, you know that? Your... Curiosity... is one of your more charming traits." He pauses, as if considering how much to divulge. "I sense that you have questions. You wish to know about demons and the infernal realm, do you not?" At his question, you nod, the motion feeling like it requires an immense effort. "Where are we, exactly? I mean, what is the infernal realm in relation to the mortal realm? And you... you mentioned you're the fifth archdemon? Who are the others?" Piru chuckles, a sound that seems to reverberate through the room. "The infernal realm is many things, dear Taru. It is my refuge, the refuge of all demons, an ancient source of power, existing long before the inception of your transient human realm. It is... A parent realm, of sorts. Spawning other, lesser, realms. Like yours." Truly? That's in direct opposition to everything you've heard priests and priestesses tell you your entire life. Not that you paid them a lot of attention... He leans forward, his gaze piercing through you. "As for my fellow archdemons... The four paragons of infernal supremacy, whose might eclipses even my own formidable essence. In order of the least significant to the most significant... As the fourth archdemon, there is Rautmar, the Bringer of Desolation, whose shadow extinguishes the very stars. Third is Varjatar, the Enchantress of the Infernal Realm, who weaves sorceries that ensnare both gods and mortals alike. Second is Kaarnel, the Harbinger of Deceit, whose whispers can topple empires and shatter minds. And finally, the first archdemon of hells, Tulikor, the Lord of Perdition, who wields a fiery wrath that consumes all in its path. These titans of the infernal realms reign supreme, their powers vast and ancient, making even my own prowess pale in comparison." You shiver, and certainly not from the chill of the room. "And you? What is your... Title? And do you often have dealings with these... Others?" you ask, drinking some of the delicious wine. You feel the warm corruption of the wine coarse through your body, but you don't mind. It's starting to feel... Familiar. Piru's smile fades, replaced by a more solemn expression. "My purpose? I am what could be crudely interpreted as the prince of demons, if translated into mortal terms. Which makes Tulikor the king of demons. But such words have no meaning for demons. As for dealing with them... In a manner of speaking, yes. I feel their presence, constantly. Their will literally shapes the very abyss that surrounds my infernal pocket in this realm. But a direct confrontation? Out of the question." "So... Tulikor is your... Father?" you ask, trying to understand the relationship between a "prince" demon and a "king" demon. Piru laughs. "Not in any sense that your mortal mind could comprehend, no. What we are is... Far more complex than that." It is clear to you that Piru won't say more on the matter, so you decide to change the subject. You look down at your hands, feeling the strange, tingling sensation within. You can't help shake the feeling that Piru is afraid of these other archdemons. Especially Tulikor. You decide to say... [["If I didn't know better, I'd say you're scared of them."]] [[Nothing. Let silence fill the room for once.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0059.png">He scoffs at your observation. "You mortals do not even have the words to describe what I feel for them. Your language is so... Primitive." he says, his words making the hairs at the back of your neck stand up for some reason. Then he shrugs. "Well! This has been simply... Marvelous, I must say. But all things must end. Consider your taste of the hells completed." he says. And with that, before you can protest, he waves his hand. The smell of burning flesh intensifies as a portal opens below you, swallowing you and the chair you're sitting on. With a whelp, you disappear into the fiery red mouth. <<link "With a yelp you disappear into the fiery red mouth." $passageAfterScene>><</link>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0059.png">Piru regards you while he chews on a piece of pie, the crumbles falling down his chest onto the obsidian floor below. They sizzle are disappear when they touch the ground. "Well! This has been simply... Marvelous, I must say. But all things must end. Consider your taste of the hells completed." he says. And with that, before you can protest, he waves his hand. The smell of burning flesh intensifies as a portal opens below you, swallowing you and the chair you're sitting on. <<link "With a yelp you disappear into the fiery red mouth." $passageAfterScene>><</link>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0063.png">You've had second thoughts. Maybe you are moving too fast? But a part of you desperately wants Piru to shove his shaft inside of you, regardless of how large it is... But no, you barely manage to shake your head, bound by the chains and choking on them as you are. But Piru sees your gesture, sees that you're not ready. And so the chains are loosened, then they crawl back to the wall of devices. The gag helpfully plops out of your mouth, leaving a trail of drool on your chin and neck as it slides down on its own. Then Piru lowers you gently to the bed, no longer floating above him. Piru gives you space, sitting on his knees at the side of the bed. You can't quite grasp what just happened... The intensity of the situation has your head spinning. "Have you had enough of a taste, or do you want a gentler approach?" Piru asks, his fully erect member not meant for humans still pointing at you, its tip now wet with the tiniest trace of your juices. When you hesitate, he adds: "Tell me what you want, loud and clear." And you decide in that moment that what you actually want is... [[A passionate and gentle approach.|You desire passion and a gentle lover.]] [[To just go back to the mortal realm...|To just go back to your prison cell...]]

<<silently>> <<set $piru_scene_one_BDSM to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0056.png">You barely manage to nod, willingly, submissively, bound by the chains and choking on them as you are. But Piru sees your gesture, sees that you're ready, that you want him to use you. Without a word between the two of you, yet complete understanding, you continue to descend down. When you do, Piru grabs your thighs. You feel his fully erect shaft sliding just the tiniest length inside of your open and inviting pussy. Your legs are still kept spread wide by the arcane chains. With wide eyes, you can do nothing but stare straight up, pinned as you are, as Piru pulls you down further onto his cock, filling you with the impossible size of his member. Somehow, it hurts less than you thought, your pussy soaking wet and ready for him. The sound of your wetness greeting the demon's cock fills his bedchamber as he lowers you down, filling you completely. Then you ascend for a moment, only to be pulled down against my him and whatever magic is keeping you floating above the bed. And you drool, moan, and cry as he penetrates you, fucking you in a way that tears at you from the inside. The pain is like nothing you've experienced before, like someone dividing you in two from within you. Yet, the pain is a tiny drop in an ocean of pleasure that fills you every time you descend upon his shaft. You're gurgling and choking with delight with every thrust, completely surrendering yourself to the demon's violent fucking. Your pussy is becoming increasingly raw and bruised... Piru brings you to a soaring climax out of nowhere. "Fu-uuuckh!" You gasp into the ball gag, drooling uncontrollably, chains biting into you as you orgasm. It's unlike anything you've experienced before, raw and potent, engulfing your every sense. Wave after wave courses through you, numbing you to all else as your body trembles from Piru's assault. [[The feeling is overwhelming. You pass out with a smile on your lips.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0059.png">"Just... Just take me back, please..." you almost whimper, suddenly feeling small and uncomfortable here in his realm. Yet... You can feel that you've changed. A part of you wants to explore this realm more. To see all the things he offers. What he can do to you. Your cheeks blush crimson at the thought when you realize that you're horny and afraid in equal measure. He scoffs, but nods. "Very well. I can see you're not ready for what my realm has to offer... Yet." he says. "Consider your taste of the hells completed." he says. And with that, before you can protest, he waves his hand. The smell of burning flesh intensifies as a portal opens below you, swallowing you and the chair you're sitting on. With a whelp, you disappear into the fiery red mouth. <<link "With a yelp you disappear into the fiery red mouth." $passageAfterScene>><</link>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0106.png">At your words, she sighs, a bit too loudly. You give her a stern look. "Fine... But the first round of drinks is on you." she whispers back, finally getting her ass over to the window. Hesitation fills her for just a tiny moment, and when you nod your encouragement, she grabs the rope, climbing down in the impractical dress she's wearing. Slowly, she's taking her time, but you don't want to push her. Soon, she lands safely and you join the others, making sure no one has woken up at the hideout before you effortlessly climb down the rope. A dress won't slow you down. Before you leave, you secure the boards back in the window. The others are waiting for you when you land softly on the streets below. [[Head over to the Donkey's Drum Inn]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0107.png">You walk next to Astrid and Erika, the three of you weaving through the now quieter streets of Valkama. The air is crisp, carrying the scents of wood smoke and burning whale oil. Around you, the crowd has thinned, with only a few stragglers wrapped in woolen tunics and fur-lined cloaks hurrying home, their footsteps echoing on the cobblestones. Snow covers the rooftops around you, but on the streets the snow has been trampled by the crowds, sometimes forming sheets of slippery ice. Astrid, with her fiery red hair braided neatly, walks to your left, her eyes sharp and alert in the dim light. Erika, on your right, hums a cheerful tune, her golden hair peeking out from beneath a simple woolen hood. There's a chill in the air, but you fight through the discomfort, knowing you'll soon be warm inside the inn. "Can you believe Hermes Dirk himself contacted us?" Erika breaks the silence, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. Astrid snorts softly. "It's a big leap from our usual jobs, to a heist for someone of his stature. Dad's right to be cautious.". You voice your opinion... [["True, but the reward is tempting. That gold coins would set us up for a long time."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0108.png">Erika's pace quickens, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "We've always talked about hitting it big. This could be our chance." Astrid frowns, her steps deliberate. "Or it could be our downfall. Hermes Dirk isn't known for his patience or forgiveness. If we mess this up..." her breath fogs in the crispy cold air. "We won't." you interject, trying to sound more confident than you feel. "We've pulled off every job we've taken. We just need to plan meticulously and execute perfectly." Erika nods enthusiastically. "And think of the reputation boost. Whatever the job is - it's big. We'd be untouchable, the gang everyone fears and respects." As you approach the inn, the sounds of laughter and music grow louder. Astrid exchanges a knowing glance with you and Erika, her frown softening slightly. "Let's not discuss this further tonight, okay? Right now, I just want to have fun..." Fine, you Erika and you agree to drop the subject. [[You reach the Donkey's Drum Inn]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_funny">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0109.png">The moon hangs low, casting silver light and long shadows, but the familiar sign of the Donkey's Drum Inn comes into view ahead. The wooden carving of a donkey playing a drum, hanging above the door, sways gently in the breeze. The inn's warm, inviting glow spills out onto the street, a beacon in the cool night. The inn is named after a famed explorer who, upon returning from distant lands, brought back an exotic drum covered in donkey hide, which became a local curiosity. Why the donkey is playing a drum covered in donkey hide is an odd detail indeed, one that no doubt sparks discussion and ensures the inn is talked about between locals. Free marketing and all that. And here you are too. The three of you step through the door, where you're greeted by dozens of men and women, some wearing the common style of clothing like you, others wearing finer materials like silk. It seems it's a mixture of classes tonight. Fine, you'll just stay out of the way of those who see themselves as better than everyone else. You do not want trouble tonight, just a drink, a dance and a flirt. Astrid and Erika find an empty table near the hearth while you make your way to the bar. The innkeeper, a burly man with a thick beard, greets you with a nod. [[Greet the innkeeper]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0110.png">The inn is lit by dozens of whale oil candles, hanging from dusty chandeliers throughout the room. "Three beers, please." you say, sliding a few copper coins across the counter. Before the innkeeper can respond, a smooth voice interrupts. "Allow me to get those for you." You turn to see a stranger leaning casually against the bar. His dark hair falls slightly into his eyes, which sparkle with mischief as he smiles at you. He doesn't look like he's from around Jaerwik, not originally at the very least. He's got a darker complexion, the sort that you know Erika finds irresistible. "I'm Jeff." he introduces himself, extending a hand. Well well. Not one minute in the inn and your drinks are already being paid for by a stranger. Not bad! You take his hand, feeling the roughness of his palm. "Taru. That's very generous of you, Jeff." "It's my pleasure." he says, nodding to the innkeeper, who promptly sets three mugs of frothy beer on the counter. "Say, did I see you walking in with that beautiful creature with golden hair?" he then asks. He... What? You glance over to where he's discreetly nodding. You see Erika, talking to Astrid, over by a table. Right. So he isn't here to flirt with you, then. He's already got his eyes on Erika. Good for him. And good riddance. But maybe you shouldn't ruin a potential hook-up for Erika? You gather yourself and say... [["Yes, that's my friend Erika. I'm sure she'd love to meet you."]] [[(lie) "Yes, that's my friend Erika. But I have to warn you - she has a boyfriend and is not looking for anything tonight."]] [[With a wink and a smile: "My friend is unavailable. However... I am not."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0111.png">You tell Jeff that indeed you're with Erika and she'd probably be delighted to meet him. He smiles. "Well, that's good news. Tell Erika I said hi, won't you? It was nice meeting you, Taru. I'm sure we'll cross paths later tonight." Jess says. You nod your goodbye. Carrying the beers back to your friends, you find Astrid and Erika already settled at the table. Erika raises an eyebrow as you set the mugs down. "Who was that?" "A charming stranger named Jeff." you say, sitting down. "And he's buying this round of drinks tonight." Astrid smirks, taking a sip of her beer. The foam forms a tiny mustache above her lip. "Well, well, Taru. Looks like our night just got a bit more interesting." You take a sip of your own beer. "Oh, without a doubt. But not for me. He had his eyes specifically on you, Erika. He says hi." You say, glancing over at Erika. She's watching Jeff, who's returned to his buddies. But he glances up, giving Erika a wink from across the room. "Oh my... He's got the looks, that's for sure." she muses, a smile on her lips. Then she turns her attention to the beer. [[Enjoy the evening with your friends]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0111.png">You tell Jeff that Erika's not looking for a guy tonight, since she's already got a boyfriend. He looks disappointed. "Well, that's too bad. It was nice to meet you, Taru. You three have a pleasant evening now." Jess says. You nod your goodbye. Carrying the beers back to your friends, you find Astrid and Erika already settled at the table. Erika raises an eyebrow as you set the mugs down. "Who was that?" "A charming stranger named Jeff." you say, sitting down. "And he's buying this round of drinks tonight." Astrid smirks, taking a sip of her beer. The foam forms a tiny mustache above her lip. "Well, well, Taru. Looks like our night just got a bit more interesting." You take a sip of your own beer. "I doubt it, not with that guy. Didn't like the vibe from that one." You say, glancing over at Erika. She's watching Jeff, who's returned to his buddies. "A shame, that. He's got the looks, at least." she muses, then shrugs and turns her attention to the beer. You feel a pang of guilt for lying, but you're sure Erika will find someone else to flirt with tonight... [[Enjoy the evening with your friends]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0112.png">As you sit with Astrid and Erika at the Donkey's Drum Inn, the lively chatter of the tavern filling the air around you, the conversation turns to the men scattered throughout the establishment. Your thick winter cloaks are hanging next to your table from fishing hooks repurposed as coat hangers. Erika gestures toward a group of rugged sailors near the hearth, commenting on their hearty laughter and weathered faces. "See anyone that strikes your fancy, Taru?" Erika asks, taking a sip of her beer, her gaze sweeping over the room. You too sip your beer thoughtfully, scanning the crowd. "I haven't spotted anyone particularly intriguing, no." You admit. Astrid smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. "What about Einar?" You feel a slight flush creep into your cheeks at the mention of Erika's brother. Einar has been a close friend for years, the closest in the gang by far after Erika and Astrid of course. [[Lately, you've noticed a shift in your feelings toward him...|continue scene 2]] [[He's still just a friend. One of the best you have...|continue scene 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0113.png">"He's... fine." you say, trying to sound casual. "Just not my type, I suppose. We're just very good friends." Erika raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Oh, come on, Taru. You and Einar have always been close. Maybe there's something more there?" You shrug, attempting to brush off the suggestion. "We're just friends, Erika. Besides, he's your brother." Astrid chuckles, leaning back in her chair. "Sometimes the best romances start with friendship. Maybe it's worth exploring." Well, luckily Einar isn't here right now to hear this discussion... You take another sip of your beer to mask your emotions. "Maybe. Maybe not." you say softly, the possibility intriguing. But no, he's one of your best friends. Would you want to ruin that by even entertaining the thought of it becoming something more? [[Move the discussion to Astrid]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0114.png">"Well enough about me. Remember the real reason we're here tonight." you say, pointing a finger at Astrid with the hand that you have your beer in. "To get you out of your shell. Talking to... Men." you say the last word dramatically. Astrid tries to hide her flushing cheeks. The fire crackles in the hearth of the Donkey's Drum Inn, casting flickering shadows across the wooden beams of the tavern. A moment of silence follows when Erika no doubt cooks up a plan in her head on how to boost Astrid's confidence. You, on the other hand, turn your attention to the beer while Astrid nervously glances around the inn. A smile creeps up to your lips when you imagine what advice Ebbe would give to Astrid in this point. 'You're probably in need of some liquid courage...' he'd likely say. Eventually, Erika proposes that Astrid just straight-up walks up to one of the guys leaning against the bar, and tells him that his ass looks cute. Astrid's flushing with embarrassment at the thought. "Erika, I just can't do it." Astrid murmurs, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I freeze up every time I try to talk to them. Think what will happen if I talk about their asses!" You exchange a knowing glance with Erika before leaning in, your voice low but firm. "You've got this, Astrid. Confidence is like a muscle, you just need to flex it a bit more. Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" Erika nods in agreement. "Exactly! You're as beautiful as the dawn over the Valkama Peaks. Any man would be lucky to have your attention." [[Just then, the tavern door swings open, and a group of strangers step inside.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0111.png">You tell Jeff that Erika's not available, but with a wink and a smile, you tell him that you are. He glances over at Erika, before shrugging. He looks disappointed. "Well, that's too bad. You are simply... Beautiful, Taru, but not my type. Anyway... It was nice to meet you, Taru. You three have a pleasant evening now." Jess says. You're too stunned to say goodbye. When you've recovered from the straight-up refusal by Jeff, you grab the beers. Carrying them back to your friends, you find Astrid and Erika already settled at the table. Erika raises an eyebrow as you set the mugs down. "Who was that?" "A rude stranger named Jeff." you say, sitting down. "But he's buying this round of drinks tonight..." Astrid smirks, taking a sip of her beer. The foam forms a tiny mustache above her lip. "Wait, rude how?." You take a sip of your own beer. "Ahh... Let's just forget the fucker. I didn't like the vibes from that one." You say, glancing over at Erika. She's watching Jeff, who's returned to his buddies. "A shame, that. He's got the looks, at least." she muses, then shrugs and turns her attention to the beer. You feel angry at the rude stranger... [[Enjoy the evening with your friends]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0115.png">Two men and a woman, their clothing and demeanor marking them as outsiders to the lands of Jaerwik and Valkama. Your eyes sparkle with curiosity as you observe them, then turn to your companions. "Looks like we have some newcomers. Say, why don't we invite them to our table? Less intimidating talking in a group, right?" Erika whispers, excitement bubbling in her voice. To Astrid, she adds: "The guy on the left is a looker, ain't he?" Astrid looks like she's about to bolt at any moment, but when she glances up and checks out who Erika was talking about, something changes. You glance over that way as well. The man Erika is talking about is clad in a weather-worn cloak of deep forest green. He has an air of quiet confidence about him, his tall frame sturdy and well-built, suggesting strength honed through countless travels. Beneath the cloak, he wears simple yet finely crafted leather armor, adorned with intricate etchings that speak of a skilled artisan's touch. His dark hair, tousled by the wind's gentle caress, frames a rugged face marked by the lines of countless adventures. And his eyes, a piercing shade of emerald green, sparkle with a hint of mischief as he takes in the bustling atmosphere of the tavern. Despite the ruggedness of his appearance, there is a warmth and kindness in his gaze that draws others to him, like moths to a flame. [[With a mischievous grin, Erika stands and saunters over to the strangers.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0116.png">Erika can handle this alone, so you and Astrid stay at your table, simply watching her do what she does best: Talk to people and get them to like her. Whatever she's saying works, because the trio takes a quick trip to the innkeeper, grabs a beer each and joins you at your table. You have no idea how Erika does it, every time. As the strangers settle in at your table, the woman gives you an enigmatic smile, gesturing towards her companions. "Allow me to introduce us." she says, her voice melodic, unlike anything you've heard before. "I am Lorelei Nightshade, and these are my dear friends, Gareth Stormstride." she nods towards the man Erika pointed out for you. "and Finnegan Brightwood." she continues, indicating the second man. Finnegan looks unassuming, but there's an alertness in his eyes that makes you think of a hawk. The woman, Lorelei, on the other hand, is quite stunning in her own right. Gareth offers a nod of acknowledgment, his emerald eyes studying the group with a quiet intensity, while Finnegan flashes a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance." Gareth says with a cheerful tone. [[The three of you introduce yourselves]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0117.png">Astrid visibly relaxes when the six of you sit down. It turns out they hail from a country far to the south, from the Onyx Dominion. The way the strangers describe it makes it sound like quite the enchanted place indeed. They describe its landscape as having a breathtaking blend of rolling hills, lush forests, and towering mountains, all bathed in an iridescent glow emanating from crystalline formations known as Aurorite. Inhabiting Onyx Dominion are diverse cultures, such as the Celestians of Lumiac, masters of the sun and stars, and the Wilderwood tribes, attuned to nature and accompanied by majestic forest spirits. The desert is home to nomadic Sashara Drifters, rumored to manipulate time, while the Eastern Archipelago harbors the elusive Mirage Menders, skilled illusionists with shape-shifting abilities. Their tales have you captivated for a long while. Then, Lorelei asks: "Is it true that you do not celebrate birthdays in Jaerwik?" Astrid finally comes out of her shell, answering before you or Erika have the chance. "It depends on your perspective, I suppose. We call them livingdays, and we celebrate the fact that you didn't die this year and wish you good luck surviving another year." Gareth chuckles. "I rather like the sound of that. Think about it - a birthday celebrates no accomplishment of the person, other than being born. And is it not the mother who should be praised for that achievement, not the kid? But a livingday - why you can actually be patted on the back for staying alive yet another year. That, if something, is worth celebrating." Gareth's point of view is refreshing for an outsider to Jaerwik traditions. Astrid cheerfully adds: "That's right! A very good way of looking at it! The tradition is quite serious amongst the royal bloodline, and has been followed by the common folk for as far back as anyone can remember. The royalty around here is known to be short-lived, after all. Blessed to die in their prime, or so they say." Gareth looks intrigued. "Truly? They die young? Why, are they killed by rivals?" He asks. But Astrid shakes her head. "No, natural deaths all. Well, most. Who knows, maybe they pay a price for being so close to the divine? So close to the original founder of Jaerwik, Colematoin Icunen Veaigi "The undying eternal twilight"? Or maybe it's just a cosmic scale of balance. Live in luxury, die young?" Astrid shrugs. no one has an answer to this question. Gareth looks confused, and asks: "Hang on. I've heard Colematoin is the current ruler of Jaerwik. But you're saying he's the original founder?" As he does so, he moves just a tiny bit closer to Astrid, who doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she looks quite comfortable, discussing a topic that interests her. "It's complicated." she starts, leaning in closer to Gareth as well. "Jaerwik still follows the law and rules laid out by him, all those hundreds of years ago. His direct heirs rule Jaerwik today. But then there's those who claim he's still around, somehow, indirectly ruling over Jaerwik." she laughs. "But that's probably just rumours to scare the children." Gareth smiles at that. "So, Jaerwik is a male necrocracy, then? The dead ruler's law still applies, no exceptions?" To this Astrid nods. From there, the discussions proceed to less political topics. [[Continue spending time with the strangers]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_happy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0118.png">A while later, Gareth takes out a small pouch, places it on the table between you and reveals the contents. It's a black sugar or salt-like pile or something with a very strong smell. "Obsidian Frost" Gareth reveals. Finnegan has already begun drawing up lines of the fine stuff. "I bet you fine ladies have never felt the best high the Onyx's Dominion's has to offer." Gareth says, and without hesitation brings his face down to the nearest line of frost, snorting it in one go into his nose. The three of you are no strangers to strong stuff, alcohol and drugs included. But this is uncharted territory, something none of you have tested before. "Never heard of the stuff. What is it?" Lorelai answers: "It's the crystalline powder of Shadow Lotus plants. The frost forms within the petals of the plant, crystallizing under the influence of the moon's radiant glow and the arcane energies of our homeland. When consumed, it envelops the senses in a chilling embrace, awakening dormant instincts and unlocking hidden truths that lie buried within the depths of the subconscious." As she explains, Finnegan snorts his line. Gareth seems unaffected by the stuff, at least so far, but he's leaning back with a smile on his face. Then Lorelai snorts her line. Now three lines await you. Before you have time to consult with your friends, Erika leans in and snorts her line. Both you and Astrid stare at her as she smoothly inhales it, without hesitation. Then she sees your judging looks. "Oh come on! This is no different than Flintrake! Besides, I'm here to par-tay!" She says, laughing, wiping her nose from the black powder. "I think I'll pass.." Astrid says, dismissing the idea. Yeah, she never was one to take risks. All eyes are on you now. Well... [[Fuck it. Time to party!]] [[You'd rather not take an unknown drug from strangers.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_took_drugs to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0119.png">You've taken Flintrake before, which is in a way the local version of Obsidian Frost. And so you join Erika in chasing the unknown high, snorting the fine powder in one go. It feels like a trail of ice forms inside of you, going from your nostril to your lungs. "That's the spirit!" Gareth announces, his companies all smiling as they enjoy the sense of the drug flowing through their veins. The strangers and Erika are in a mood to dance, and the dull drumming of the inn's musicians seems sufficiently entertaining for them. You join them enthusiastically, already feeling your senses dulling. Astrid joins all of you, not wanting to stay behind. [[Dance with the strangers]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_took_drugs to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0120.png">You've taken Flintrake before, which is in a way the local version of Obsidian Frost. So this shouldn't be that different. However, you don't feel comfortable with an unknown drug. Besides, someone's got to keep an eye on Erika. "It's not for everyone." Gareth says, him and Finnegan finishing yours and Astrid's lines. They're all smiling as they enjoy the sense of the drug flowing through their veins. The strangers and Erika are in a mood to dance, and the dull drumming of the inn's musicians seems sufficiently entertaining for them. You join them, not wanting to leave Erika alone. Astrid joins all of you too, not wanting to stay behind. [[Dance with the strangers]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0121.png">Erika, always the life of any gathering, is already in the thick of it, dancing with Lorelai. Her laughter rings out as she twirls to the music played by the drummer in the corner of the inn. Gareth and Finnegan, tankards of beer in their hands, join her, the looks on all of their faces betraying the bliss of the Obsidian Frost. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>Either it is the music or the drugs, but you find this all irresistible, and so you join the others, your hands finding Erika's waist as you playfully dance around the room.<<else>>You politely join them, trying to keep an eye on Erika.<</if>> Others join you and soon the room is filled with dancing bodies. In the swirling chaos of sweaty bodies, you notice Astrid and Gareth are over to the side. Her usual composure softens as she laughs at Gareth's remarks, her eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. She leans in closer, her smile lingering as she engages in the flirtatious banter, clearly enjoying his attention. You allow yourself to relax, seeing a smile on Astrid's lips, returning your full attention to the dancing. The music picks up, a lively tune that brings even more patrons to their feet. Erika grabs Finnegan's hand and pulls him into a dance, their movements energetic and slightly uncoordinated. Lorelai joins them, her laughter infectious as she spins and sways to the rhythm. You find yourself swept up in the revelry, dancing with Lorelai and Finnegan in the heart of the tavern. Lorelai's infectious laughter, Erika's bold movements and Finnegan's playful spins draw you into their joyful rhythm, the four of you moving in sync with the lively music. <<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>You notice Jeff joining the dance, his attention fully on Erika, who smiles and invites him in. She's practically throwing herself at him, and he seems to love her attention.<</if>> You continue dancing for a good while longer, your heart beating faster than the drum that fills the tavern with its music. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>Something stirs within you, and the room is beginning to get distorted, the temperature hotter. The faces around you are becoming blurry, and hard to recognize. <</if>>In the chaos of the dance you somehow manage to lose sight of Erika. You realize this after you've allow yourself to be drawn into the music, relaxing, led on a wild spin by Finnegan. At least Astrid seems to be enjoying herself, you notice with a smile. She's kissing Gareth! Way to go girl! <<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>[[Try to find Erika|erika and jeff scene]]<<else>>[[Try to find Erika]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0123.png">You spend a while walking around the room, glancing around. No sign of Erika, yet. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>People keep bumping into you for no reason, and getting mad at you. How strange!<</if>> You head outside, but she's not there either. Puzzled, you head back inside. Maybe the innkeeper has an eye on his guests? When you ask him, he points to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. It turns out Jeff is staying the night here at the inn. And apparently, someone matching Erika's description left hand-in-hand with Jeff a while ago up to the bedrooms. [[Erika can't be left alone in her current state! Follow her.|Follow Erika]] [[She's a grown woman. She can handle herself.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0122.png">You spend a while walking around the room, glancing around. No sign of Erika, yet. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>People keep bumping into you for no reason, and getting mad at you. How strange!<</if>> You head outside, but not before you grab your winter cloak, where you find her chatting with a random stranger. She seems to be unharmed, and doing just fine. "Hey, Taru! How great of you to join us." she announces. You notice a bottle of wine on the steps. Sure, why not? "Alright." you say, sitting down next to Erika. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>You can't feel your face. It's still there, right? You poke at your chin and cheeks, yeah still there. <</if>>They give you a glass, filling it to the brim with wine, spilling precious alcohol into the dirt in the process. "Hey! That's alcohol abuse!" you point out. Erika and the stranger laugh. The wine tastes like the cheapest crap the inn has to offer when you finally take a sip. Well, maybe it wasn't abuse after all. Maybe this stuff belongs in the dirt, not in your mouth? [[Relax with Erika|astrid and woman scene]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_scared">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0133.png">"All things considered, a pretty good night, right? You noticed that Astrid hooked up with Gareth?" you ask Erika. She looks genuinely surprised: "Really? The delicate little snowflake finally found it in her to get a man's attention? Well well. Good for her!" She says, taking another large mouthful from the bottle of wine. The two of you are discussing various topics, and sharing the bottle of wine. Before long, it's empty but the topics of your conversations aren't.<<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is false>> The stranger leaves you two when he notices he's the third wheel, an odd look on his face. Neither of you pays him any attention.<</if>> The moment of peace doesn't last long. A bottle comes flying out through the open door behind you, crashing into the wooden building on the opposite side of the street, scattering beer and glass everywhere. "What the..." Erika starts, glancing behind. Someone is shouting inside the tavern, not an unusual occurrence in and of itself. But when Astrid soon after comes running out of the tavern, tears falling down her cheeks, you and Erika scramble to your feet. A woman follows, her shouts echoing as she storms after Astrid. "You shameless northern whore, how dare you lay your lips on my husband!" The woman screams, a bottle of wine in her hand. Astrid tumbles on her dress and falls into the dirt, a frightened look on her face. Erika quickly runs up to her, checking if she's ok. Protectively, you take your place standing between the woman and Astrid, a stern look on your face. Gareth, looking confused and disoriented, stumbles after them. So, the guy is married? What an absolute fucker. He tries to calm his apparent wife, but his speech is slurry, and incoherent. He catches up, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder, trying to reason with her. But her anger is too intense; with a wild swing, she smashes the bottle of wine against his head, sending him flying to the ground, unconscious. Of Gareth's companions for the evening, Lorelai and Finnegan, there is no trace, their absence only adding to the surreal chaos of the night. The woman holds the broken bottle of wine like a weapon in her hand, approaching you, Astrid and Erika. "Step aside!" the woman says to you. "This does not concern you. This is between me and the whore!" The furious woman points at Astrid, who's hiding in Erika's arms. There's no fucking way you're letting this woman bully your friend like this. If anyone's to blame, it's Gareth. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>All the drinks this evening and the drugs are making your vision blurry, your gaze unfocused. <</if>>You tell the woman... [[Your husband is the one you should be furious with, not her.]] [[Get the fuck back in the tavern and leave her alone. She's under my protection.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_witness_BDSM to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0125.png">Yeah no. Erika is in no shape to be left alone, even if the man she's spending time with seems like a nice guy. You thank the innkeeper for his help, then push yourself past the crowd to the stairs. The old wooden boards creek under you as you ascend to the second floor, to the guestrooms. You keep your eyes and ears peeled as you walk through the corridor, stopping behind every door. So far, no sign of Erika. A muffled lashing sound echoes in the corridor, followed by a distant whimper. Your heart skips a beat as you imagine the worst. Was that Erika? Faster now, you rush through the corridor.<<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>> The walls seem adamant to stop you as they come crashing into you. Damn these walls, why are they moving anyway!?<</if>> Finally, you reach the souce of the sound. One of the rooms, the door closed. But the sounds from within, there's no denying, it's Erika's and Jeff's voices. You try to open the door, but it's locked. Well, that's no problem. You can open this fucker in a matter of seconds... You reach for your thieves tools that you always carry with you, hidden inside your dress, then kneel before the lock. While you're doing it, you listen to their conversation. [[Peak through the keyhole]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0124.png">You head outside again, this time with your winter cloak on, but not before you grab a bottle of wine. Well, Astrid seems to be having a blast, and so is Erika. Now it's your turn to have a blast. With his bottle. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>You can't feel your face. It's still there, right? You poke at your chin and cheeks, yeah still there. <</if>> The wine you chose tastes like the cheapest crap the inn has to offer when you finally take a sip. Oh well, gets the job done. Eventually, Erika joins you, her hair a mess and a wide grin on her face. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>You decide it's best not to tell her what you saw...<</if>> "Strong wind upstairs?" you ask, pointing at her mess of a hair, offering her your bottle of wine. "Hah! Fuck yes, Taru. The "wind" was strong indeed!" she chuckles, sitting down next to you. One of the straps on her dress is loose, and you kindly point it out, helping her draw it tight again. Erika takes a large mouthful from the bottle. "This stuff is garbage." she points out. Yeah, you know. "He any good...?" you ask and accept the bottle, dutifully drinking from it, even though it tastes like shit. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell, Taru. But... Yeah. He knew what he was doing." she reveals, the grin on her face just getting wider and wider. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>Ain't that the truth...<</if>> [[Relax with Erika|astrid and woman scene]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0126.png">What you see is an image you'll never get out of your head. Like a scar, burned to the inside of your eye, impossible to remove. Erika is standing completely naked in front of the bed, leaning over it, her dress in a discarded pile at the far end of the room. Her hands are behind her back and she's resting her head and breasts against a large pillow. Her legs are spread wide, kneeling just a tiny bit, bringing her low enough to lean comfortably onto the massive pillow that sits at the edge of the bed. Next to her is Jeff, wearing nothing but his pants. The dark skin on his back is glistening with sweat, reflecting the whale oil candlelight that lits the room. His clothes and shoes are off in another pile, next to Erika's. In his right hand is his belt, which he now brings down hard against Erika's exposed asscheek. You flinch from the impact, frozen in place, eye glued to the keyhole, lock forgotten. "Aaah! Fuck me! Ahhh... Come on Jeff, I've been such a bad girl! Again!" Erika whimpers, ecstatic. Wait, she's into this? "Naughty girls like you enjoy the punishment as much as the reward, don't you?" he teases, bringing his belt down onto her other asscheek with a smack that echoes in your ears. "Mmhmmm!! Yes, we do!" Erika moans into the pillow. You decide that... [[You've seen enough - leave the kinky couple alone.]] [[You want to see what happens next...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_happy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0128.png">Yeah, you've seen enough. Erika is fine, she's in no trouble. But you'll never get that image out of your head. Without making a sound, you trace your steps back through the corridor, heading downstairs. Right now, you need some air... [[Head outside|She's a grown woman. She can handle herself.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0127.png">You don't know why you decide to stay and watch one of your best friends's most intimate and private moments, but you do.<<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>> Maybe it's the drugs.<</if>> Maybe you're curious. Maybe you want to experience something like that yourself... Whatever the reason is, you stay, your eye firmly pressed against the keyhole. The thieves tools slide back soundlessly into the hidden pockets in your dress. Jeff stands behind Erika now, grabbing her outstretched arms in his hands. She submissively stays put, letting him wrap his belt around her wrists a few rounds, as a makeshift pair of handcuffs of sorts. "I know what a bitch like you want." he growls, with an aggressive tone, but there's a hint of playfulness there. "Oh? OH!" Erika manages to retort, a loud, surprised squeal of delight escaping her lips when Jeff keeps her arms pinned behind her back, his fingers finding the exposed wetness between her legs. You're blushing crimson, watching Jeff fuck your friend with his fingers. And she loves it. Erika squirms, moaning, begging for more. Begging for his cock. But he denies her, telling her only good girls deserve a cock. And she's been bad. Very bad... You can feel your heart beating faster, your breath becoming quicker. And an unmistakable growing wetness between your own legs... You glance around the corridor, a quick look. No one's here... [[Continue watching and touch yourself.]] [[Just continue watching.]] [[You've seen enough - leave the kinky couple alone.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0129.png">Once again you press your eye against the keyhole, enjoying the view of Erika's beautiful naked body and the defined muscles on Jeff's sweaty back. Your fingers tentatively find their way inside your dress, parting the fabric just enough for you to find yourself soaking wet between your legs... He's practically pounding her now, with his fingers, relentlessly pinning her down against the bed. She's a whimpering moaning mess, not at all the composed and confident woman you know. The Erika before you now is almost unrecognizable, reduced to a carnal animal seeking the pleasures only a dominant hand like Jeff's can offer. You had no idea she likes it rough and dirty. And you love watching this new side of her. Touching yourself while you do it. Watching her like this... [[Continue watching]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0130.png">Once again you press your eye against the keyhole, enjoying the view of Erika's beautiful naked body and the defined muscles on Jeff's sweaty back. He's practically pounding her now, with his fingers, relentlessly pinning her down against the bed. She's a whimpering moaning mess, not at all the composed and confident woman you know. The Erika before you now is almost unrecognizable, reduced to a carnal animal seeking the pleasures only a dominant hand like Jeff's can offer. You had no idea she likes it rough and dirty. And you love watching this new side of her. Watching her like this... [[Continue watching]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0131.png">Erika's begging finally works and Jeff pulls out his fingers from her. "Prove it, slut. Prove that you deserve a cock." Jeff instructs her as he pulls down his pants. His fully erect cock brushes against Erika's thigh as he does so, but then he simply stands there, arms crossed. "On your knees, bitch. Move it." he barks, and with those words, Erika scrambles to her feet, hands still bound behind her back by Jeff's belt. She turns around, sliding down from the bed, giving you a full view of her massive beautiful tits before she kneels down obediently before Jeff, a flustered and hungry look on her face. Seeing your friend's face reveals to you just how much she's enjoying this. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>>Your practiced fingers find their way inside of you, and you try your damndest not to moan loudly to reveal your position. The action edges you further, and you practically press yourself against the keyhole in an attempt to not miss a single detail. <</if>>Erika doesn't hesitate for a moment. Her mouth opens wide, seeking Jeff's erection, taking him into her mouth with experienced ease. She's done this before, no doubt. Just how many men has she fucked, you wonder, as she chokes on Jeff's penis. For a moment all you hear are the sloppy sounds of lips smacking against skin and Jeff's balls bouncing on her chin. The spit and drool begins to froth, foaming, falling down her chin over her breasts. She's relentless, pleasing her dominant bedroom master like a trained whore. And he seems pleased, because it doesn't take long for him to grab her hair, roughing it up, destroying her meticulously prepared hairstyle of the evening. With Erika's hair in his hands, he keeps her a few inches from his cock without letting her take it into her mouth again. "Very good. Now, spread your legs for your master." he commands, letting go of her hair. He points to the bed. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>>You can't keep yourself from silently moaning as you stare at the two, your fingers edging you on, making you hornier by the second...<</if>> [[Erika submissively jumps into the bed]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0132.png">Her face, chin and breasts are dripping with drool, the wetness reflecting the light of the candles in the room. But she's smiling, hands still bound behind her back, as she jumps into the bed. She crawls onto it on her knees, then bends over, resting her head against the bed. She lifts her ass helpfully up into the air, spreading her legs wide for Jeff. She doesn't have to wait long to be rewarded by what she, and you, want the most in the world right now. Jeff joins her in the bed, grabbing her hair in his right hand, and pulling Erika towards him. With his left hand, he pins her bound hands behind her back. Erika whimpers helplessly, desperately, as Jeff's slimy and fully erect cock finds her soaking wet and willing pussy. When Jeff's cock slides into her, you gasp<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>>, simultaneously sliding your own fingers deep inside of you in rhythm with Jeff's thrusting<</if>>. Jeff pounds her, pulling her hair, stopping her from moving an inch. But she doesn't want to move. And you don't want her to move. You and Erika both want her to stay there, fucked roughly by Jeff. The moaning and grunting of Erika and Jeff grows louder<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>>, and you no longer feel like you need to be quiet as you bring yourself to a roaring climax, watching your friend dominated by Jeff<</if>>. Erika's screams announce that she reached a climax<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>>, at the same time as you,<</if>> but Jeff continues thrusting a moment longer. Then he grunts, pulls out and spills his seed on Erika's back in gushing waves. Hot damn, you're flushing, breathing hard. Time to bolt! [[Get out before they see you!]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_happy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0122.png">You head outside again this time with your winter cloak on,<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM_touch_yourself is true>> legs weak<</if>>, but not before you grab a bottle of wine. Your head spins as you sit down on the steps, popping open the bottle of wine. You can't believe you just did that. Witnessed one of your best friend's most private moments like that. A massive violation of trust, no? Well, at least Erika was having a whale of a time. And Astrid, you recall. Last you saw her she was kissing Gareth. You take a mouthful of wine, gulping it down. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>You can't feel your face. It's still there, right? You poke at your chin and cheeks, yeah still there. <</if>>The wine you chose tastes like the cheapest crap the inn has to offer. Oh well, gets the job done. Eventually, Erika joins you, her hair a mess and a wide grin on her face. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>You decide it's best not to tell her what you saw...<</if>> "Strong wind upstairs?" you ask, pointing at her mess of a hair, offering her your bottle of wine. "Hah! Fuck yes, Taru. The "wind" was strong indeed!" she chuckles, sitting down next to you. One of the straps on her dress is loose, and you kindly point it out, helping her draw it tight again. Erika takes a large mouthful from the bottle. "This stuff is garbage." she points out. Yeah, you know. "He any good...?" you ask and accept the bottle, dutifully drinking from it, even though it tastes like shit. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell, Taru. But... Yeah. He knew what he was doing." she reveals, the grin on her face just getting wider and wider. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>Ain't that the truth...<</if>> [[Relax with Erika|astrid and woman scene]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0134.png">If looks could kill, you'd be lying in the dirt, staring blankly at the brightly shining moon Mundilfari above. "Oh I'll fucking deal with him later, don't you worry about it. But this bitch needs to learn a lesson." she holds the broken bottle of wine like a weapon. "Move or I fucking slice you too!" she threatens, her anger only rising. Clearly, there's no talking her out of this. You say to her... [[Get the fuck back in the tavern and leave her alone. She's under my protection.]] [[You'll have to go through me first.|Get the fuck back in the tavern and leave her alone. She's under my protection.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0135.png">Inside the tavern, you can hear the music still playing, the patrons at the inn not caring a moment for what's going on outside. And why would they? You are nobodies, and why would anyone risk their neck or reputation by involving themselves with nobodies like you? At your words, the woman scoffs, or more like spits, then grabs the broken bottle of wine firmer. It's at this point you realize she's not going to back down, and you reach for your dagger, hidden in your dress. "Die, fucker!" she screams, swinging her broken bottle at you! <<silently>> <<if $ch2_took_drugs is false>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "The furious woman stands before you. She is screaming at you, trying to slice you with the broken bottle in her hand. You try to stay focused, your vision clouded by the alcohol you have consumed tonight...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "Done after woman attack">> <</if>> <</silently>><<if $ch2_took_drugs is false>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Defend yourself! (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl1">><</link>><<else>><<link "Defend yourself! (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>><<else>>[[Your vision is blurry... Try to defend yourself.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0136.png">You expertly dodge her pathetic attempts, taunting her, catching her arm when she swings. With a twist and a kick in her groin, you loosen her grip on the bottle. Then, when she still tries to fight back and claw you with her nails, you knock her off her feet, sending her face-first into the dirt. She spits and curses, but seems disoriented. Must've hit her head. Behind you, Erika screams: "Kill the bitch, Taru! She tried to kill us!" Adrenaline surges through your veins as you stare at the woman, who's trying to crawl up from the dirt, no doubt to take another swing at you. A quick look around shows a terrified Astrid huddled in Erika's arms behind you, and an unconscious Gareth lying on the ground outside the tavern. You turn your attention back to the woman, who tried to kill you, almost succeeding. She could've killed your friend... [[Slice her throat - she deserves no mercy.]] [[Knock her out - There's no point spilling blood for this.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0139.png"><<set $ch2_furious_woman_alive to true>>Hindsight is always twenty/twenty, but looking back it's still a bit fuzzy... The woman swings her bottle aggressively at you, trying to slice your throat! And you, well, you quickly realize that you're in no shape to take her on. The Obsidian Frost in your veins, combined with the copious amounts of beer and wine, hold you back. She quickly notices that you're barely defending yourself, and manages to slice your hand with the broken bottle, sending your dagger flying. You dodge her next strike, fumble, and trip backward, and land hard on your back. The impact knocks the air out of your lungs and you stare at the sky above, the stars spinning wildly in the heavenly canvas above. Is this how you die? But the strike never comes. Instead, you hear familiar voices and see shapes grabbing the woman, wrestling the bottle from her hand. It's Finnegan and Lorelai, thank fuck... "Sorry for our friend... We settle indifferences a bit.. Differently in our country." Lorelai explains, and with a final apologetic wave, Finnegan and the furious woman disappear back into the tavern, while Lorelai grabs the unconscious Gareth and drags him back inside. You're bleeding, but otherwise unhurt. Slowly, the world spinning, you get back up on your feet and fetch your dagger. Your hand is bleeding a bit, but it's just a scratch. [[Stand up and check on Erika and Astrid]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0140.png">With the woman dealt with, Erika and Astrid finally scramble to their feet. You join them. <<if $ch2_furious_woman_alive is false>>"Good riddance. Bitch deserved it." Erika says. <</if>>Astrid looks exhausted, and terrified. "I didn't mean to... I never... He just... Then she... And I..." she stutters, sobbing uncontrollably. You put away your dagger, and then the three of you hug, calming yourselves down as much as much as Astrid. "It's alright, Astrid. Some people are unfaithful. Some people are crazy. Bad luck you should have to deal with one of each tonight." Erika says. Your moment is interrupted by a group of guards, heavily armored and armed, at least four of them. "We heard screaming. Someone better explain what the hell is going on here..." one of the guards says. <<if $ch2_furious_woman_alive is false>>His eyes go to the unconscious Gareth, and the woman lying face-down in a pool of her own blood.<</if>> He takes another look at you, a long hard look, something dawning on him. Recognition. He draws his weapon. "Taru - fucking - Nopsa! Lads, draw your weapons! This bitch is wanted in all districts of Valkama. Grab her!" The guardsman orders, his men circling you with their weapons drawn. What an absolute shitshow. First the woman, and now guardsmen who happen to recognize you? You draw your dagger, realizing this is not a fight you can win. Astrid and Erika are unarmed, hiding behind your back as the guards approach you. Dead or alive, that's your fate. And you bet the guards prefer you dead... [[Prepare to fight]] [[Surrender|Prepare to fight]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0137.png"><<set $ch2_furious_woman_alive to false>>No one attacks you and your friends and gets away with it. No one. With a firm grip on your dagger, you approach the disoriented woman. You crouch down, kneel on her back, then grab a handful of her hair. She screams and curses, and tries to roll away, but you keep her pinned. Then you jank her head back, hard, exposing her throat. With a quick slice, you sever her jugular vein and windpipe, then keep her pinned to the ground while she spasms, gurgles and chokes on her own blood. A short moment later, the thrashing stops, and the woman is silenced forever. [[Check on Erika and Astrid|Stand up and check on Erika and Astrid]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0138.png"><<set $ch2_furious_woman_alive to true>>No, there's no point spilling blood for this. Instead, you grab your own bottle of wine, now empty, and smash it into the back of the woman's head. The glass splinters everywhere, and she becomes motionless. [[Check on Erika and Astrid|Stand up and check on Erika and Astrid]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0141.png">No sooner have you made your decision when the guard who'd spoken cries out and falls to the ground with a gurgling sound, his blood gushing like a fountain from his severed neck. The trio of remaining guards turn around, surprised. In the darkness of the night, you can barely make out a shape standing where the fallen guard just did. "I see I'm a little late to the party." Kerr 'Lurker' Apea says with his cool, uncaring voice, twin daggers gleaming in the moonlight. How did he know you were here? Oh never mind that. You could kiss the bastard for his timing. "Taru, get the ladies out of here before more guards show up. I'll stay behind and dance..." he says, engaging the first of the guardsmen, sliding within his defenses with one quick step, crushing his sword arm in the process. The guard howls in pain, and soon chaos ensues as the two others join in. Yeah, you'd best not involve yourself in a fight against trained and heavily armed guards right now... This dress is a menace, and would get in the way. Not to talk about all the alcohol you've consumed. <<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>>Or the drugs...<</if>> "Come on, you heard him. Let's make ourselves scarce." you tell Erika and Astrid, neither of whom has any significant amount of experience in real fights. Of the three of you, you're the only one with a (somewhat) clear head in this situation, and you need to shepherd these drunks out of here. Luckily, they don't protest at all and the three of you quickly leave the area, the sounds of grunts and steel echoing behind you as Kerr evades the guard's blades. [[Get back to the hideout as quickly as possible.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0142.png">The way back is a blur, but you manage to distance yourself from the scene at the tavern, then casually blend into the night as regular citizens to not raise suspicion. You urge Erika and Astrid on, keeping an eye for guards. How did Kerr know to show up though? You ask your friends: "How did Kerr know to show up? It seemed too coincidental." Erika doesn't meet your gaze, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I... I might've told Einar to let Arne know we were heading out to party... Figured it wouldn't hurt to have them know where we were, just in case..." Her voice trails off. Astrid looks way too guilty too. "Astrid...?" you ask, urging her to spill her beans. "I uhh... Told dad directly. Sorry..." she admits. So, Arne got the message from both Einar and Astrid. "Well... You made the right call. Still, keep me in the loop next time, alright?" You conclude, not angry with your friends, just a little bit disappointed. You reach the hideout. Your secret is no secret anyway, with Kerr finding you, so you get back to the hideout using the usual ladder instead of the rope you used to sneak out. Everything seems to be quiet up here, the few people who remain in the hideout are all asleep. Good. You really don't want a lecture from Ylva right now... Drawing attention to yourselves was probably not the best idea, you know that. Erika knows that. And Astrid will never forget it, no doubt about that. The three of you slip out of your dresses, without saying a word to each other.<<if $ch2_took_drugs is true>> You clean the wound in your hand with alcohol, before wrapping it in a bandage. Just a scratch, should be fine in the morning...<</if>> Then you roll into your blankets, hoping Kerr got out of that mess unharmed. But of course he did, it's Kerr. He might be an asshole and a bastard at the best of days, but he knows how to take care of himself. That's for sure. With those thoughts, you shut your eyes and leave the chaos of the day behind you... [[Sleep]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0143.png">You fall asleep very quickly indeed, seeing nightmares of a frightened Astrid covering in Erika's protective hug. ... In the morning, you notice Kerr is up before anyone else, eating breakfast in the common room. You don't like that he poked about your business, but in this particular case it's a good thing he showed up. You grab a seat at the table, filling your bowl with porridge. You... [[Say: "Thanks Kerr, for yesterday. Things looked a little dicey there for a moment..."]] [[Say nothing.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0145.png">One afternoon, a few days after the tavern incident, Arne returns with Ebbe and Einar. You're all glad to see them. In the hugging and greeting that follows, you sneak a look in Einar's direction. You're glad to see your best friend again, after a few days apart. Can't wait to hear how their mission went. Your throughts are interrupted by Arne, who summons everyone around the large table for a meeting. "We met with Hermes Dirk." he begins when everyone's settled, their full attention at the leader of this little gang. Then Arne throws a heavy bag on the table, the unmistakable clink of coin echoing in the attic. "Upfront payment from the client. For expenses. Gear. Planning." he says. Ylva looks impressed, grabbing the bag, and spilling its contents onto the table. A neat pile. "One hundred shiny gold coins. Hermes Dirk is serious." Einar adds. Even Kerr seems to pay attention now. Gold, truly the universal language that gets everyone's attention. That and sex, of course. Arne demands everyone's attention again. "Here's the short of it: We're to break into the Royal Palace's exhibition hall, steal the very first Blue diamond ever mined in Valkama, from the very founding days of the city. Questions?" The room is silent. To steal directly from Colematoin's royal palace? Colematoin Icunen Veaigi "The undying eternal twilight", who supposedly still rules Jaerwik from the shadows to this day, over a thousand years after its foundation? A myth of course, most of it anyway. But still. "Now we're talking." Kerr says, picking up a coin, and inspecting it closely. When he doesn't add more, everyone's attention turns back to Arne. "...you accepted the job?" Ylva asks, with a look somewhere between worry and excitement. "I said I'd discuss it with the gang and get back to him as soon as possible." Arne replies, looking around the room now, no doubt trying to gauge if he's got your support. [[Silence fills the room again as everyone takes in the magnitude of the heist.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0146.png">The room remains tense, the weight of the proposed heist settling over everyone like a heavy cloak. The clink of coins is the only sound as Arne looks around, waiting for questions. Erika is the first to break the silence. Her brow furrows as she leans forward, her voice steady but filled with concern. "Arne, what's the security like at the exhibition hall? Surely there are magical wards and guards. Do we have any intel on their routines or any weaknesses?" Astrid, still shaken from the recent tavern incident but determined to prove her worth, speaks up next. "And what about the escape plan? Even if we manage to get our hands on the diamond, how do we get out of the palace without getting caught? Does Hermes Dirk offer any support in this, or are we on our own?" She asks. Their questions hang in the air, adding to the gravity of the situation. Everyone turns to Arne, waiting for his answers, the magnitude of the heist sinking in further with each passing moment. Arne nods at Erika and Astrid's questions, a determined look settling on his face. He leans forward, resting his hands on the table. "We will do proper recon." he begins, his voice steady and confident. "With this upfront payment, we can afford the bribes needed to gather detailed information. We'll also ensure a few key guards are conveniently 'retired' or reassigned. We're not going in blind." When he says the words retired and reassigned, he glances at you and Kerr. Right, a couple of "lethal accidents" in the guard's ranks, forcing some fresh people to take their place. Could work. He pauses, glancing around the room to make sure everyone is following. "And there's more. Hermes Dirk isn't leaving us to handle this alone. His right-hand man, an expert in dealing with magical wards, will be joining us for the job. He knows how to bypass the spells and protections that guard the diamond." The room buzzes with a mixture of relief and anticipation. Arne's words provide a semblance of a plan, a path forward in the face of such a daunting task. "I don't have more to share at this point. We'll need to plan this properly. But I think it's possible. Everyone in favor of accepting this job, raise your hand." Arne says, looking around the room. Ebbe and Einar almost immediately raise their hand. And, surprisingly, so does Kerr. [[Raise your hand|raise your hand 2]] [[Keep your hand lowered|raise your hand 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0147.png">Arne and Ylva raise their hand as well. As does Astrid. Erika hesitates. In the end, it's a clear win for accepting the heist. You squeeze Erika's hand comforting under the table. It's going to be fine, as long as everyone works together on this. Hulda and Balder have been sitting quietly in the corner, observing the adults. When they realize a conclusion has been reached, in favor of the heist no less, they squeal with delight. "I bet the diamond is massive!" Hulda says, her eyes gleaming with wonder. "Right under the nose of the royalty too!" Balder exclaims, excited to steal from the rich. Arne nods, glancing at everyone in the gang. "Good. We'll start preparations immediately. We should strike during the spring harvest of the Flugandi Hvalr. Strike in the chaos of the whaling season." Arne announces. "That gives us two months to prepare. Meeting adjourned." ... [[You snap out of your thoughts, returning to the present day.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0148.png">Back in the present day... And that was it, the day the gang decided to tackle the biggest heist of their careers. What an opportunity indeed. And look at the gang now. In hiding, scattered, Astrid gone, a betrayal that almost saw you killed and sacrificed. How quickly things turned from exciting, with seemingly endless possibilities, to this mess of uncertainty and unanswered questions. Questions, which you will get answers to. Right. Where were you? Your rumbling stomach reminds you. Ah yes, bag, food, blankets... Then you'll see where the day takes you. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_taste is false>>[[A familiar stench of burning flesh assaults your nose.]]<<else>>[[Head out into the city, searching for supplies.|Chapter 3 start]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_funny">> <<set $ch3_kill_guards to false>> <<set $ch3_enter_through_window to false>> <<set $ch3_kill_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <<set $ch3_spanked_by_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch3_chest_locked to false>> <<set $ch3_forced_ceremony to false>> <<set $ch3_discarded_by_temple to false>> <<set $ch3_goddess_eyes to false>> <<if ndef $QIDSoulRelease_t8>> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t8 to "Return to Opettaille with more information when you are ready.">> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDDemonPledge_t7>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t7 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Opettaille.">> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDSoulRelease_t8>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t8 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Tryton.">> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0160.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 3 - The God of Mercy</h4>You finally head out, leaving behind the gang's old hideout. You know you won't be coming back here: The risk is too great. You don't know who to trust, and who knows about this hideout. Even staying this one night here was a risk - but one you had to take. But the plan for today is clear: Find a new hideout, gather supplies and pay a visit to the temple of the God of Mercy... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Piru has explicitly instructed you to kill two priests there. Who they are, you do not know yet, but you'll need to prepare. Do some recon, check out the layout, maybe gain their trust for easier access.<<else>>You hope that someone there knows how you can escape the contract with Piru and break the binding of The Fathomless Hunger.<</if>> With a quick, practiced motion, you jump out from the window of the abandoned attic. The grappling hook attaches in the unevent surface of the neighboring roof. You move swiftly, pulling yourself up onto the rooftop. From here, the sprawling city of Valkama stretches out before you, and just to the north, you see the towering spires and grand temples of the Divine District gleaming in the sunlight. You leave behind the Industrial Harbor and its scent of saltwater and smoke. It's early morning, the sun hanging low to the east over the ocean. Still, you should be cautious. You're a wanted woman, a known face in the city. Common folk won't know you, but a guard might. And so you keep low, carefully making your way across the rooftops. Up here, you feel free. The fresh breeze at this height lifts your spirits, and you find yourself jumping from root to roof with a smile on your face. You navigate the gaps and uneve surfaces with ease, your eyes always scanning for any sign of trouble. Below, guards patrol the streets, their armor clinking as they move. Sometimes you pause, waiting for the right moment, before you leap to the next rooftop, landing silently. [[Approach the Divine District.]]

<<silently>> <<set $taru_concubine_level to 0>> <<set $passageAfterScene to "Return To Attic After Piru Scene">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0149.png">Before you can head out into the city, a portal appears in the attic, and Piru strides into the abandoned hideout of the gang. He glances around, a disapproving look on his face. "Truly? Was this the 'grand' hideout of the most wanted gang in Valkama?" he muses, pulling spider webs from the beams in the roof. "Pathetic." Well, what does he want? You remember your deal with him, in detail. Technically, you should be treating him with respect now, for you are his concubine. You say to Piru... [['"What do you want, demon?"'|continue scene in attic]] [['"Nice to see you, Piru."'|continue scene in attic]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0151.png">When you land, the chair beneath you crashes hard against the wooden beams of the attic floor. The legs of the chair snap, sending you tumbling across the room. But you soften your landing, performing a safety roll with your arms, shoulder and back touching the floor as you spin around. And land softly on your naked feet, bruised, but unharmed. Your visit to the infernal realms has left you shaken. Somehow you ache to get back there, to the warmth, especially when you feel the cold of the mortal realm seeping into your bones. Piru's voice echoes in the attic, but you cannot see him: "Until next time, my sweet little concubine." With shaking legs you manage to stand up, pick up your clothes and get dressed. Well. At least you now know what it means to be a concubine to a demon... It takes you a moment to recover, catching your breath, getting a grip on reality and the mortal realm's coldness. You have a feeling of dread in your chest, of being trapped in a contract with an entity as powerful and evil as Piru. Was this a good idea or not? Well, a little late to reflect on that. What's done is done. Live with it, Taru. Fuck... With a shrug, you compose yourself. Right. Food for a few days. A backpack, blankets, supplies. That's what you need right now. Then you'll see where the day takes you. [[Head out into the city, searching for supplies.|Chapter 3 start]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0150.png">He pierces you with his eyes, and that's when you feel it: The letters written in your back burning, forcing your full attention at your master. You suddenly feel compelled to cover before him, kneel in submission, to please him... The sensation is almost overwhelming, and you're barely able to stay standing rather than throw yourself at his feet. "I think it's high time you get a taste of the hells. I already offered it once, but this time you're no longer in a position to refuse." He smiles at you. "Remind me... What do you mean with a 'taste'..." you manage to ask, your breath catching in your throat. He smiles at your question. "That... Is for you to find out." Piru reveals, opening up a portal to his realm. The smell of burning flesh greets your nose. You stare at the portal, a raw kind of energy pulsing from it, calling for you. As you stare into the depth of the fiery red swirling mass, you can't help but feel drawn to it. You want to go there. Your contract with the demon demands that you go there... "I would... I would like a taste. I am yours..." you whisper, somehow out of breath, unable to say no. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>So this is what it means to be his concubine, to have signed a contract with him?<<else>>So this is what it means to have pledged yourself to him, to have signed a contract with him?<</if>> You're no longer in control of your own thoughts and actions... The delighted smile on Piru's lips does not match the hint of malice in his eyes. He snaps his finger, in an instant removing all your clothes. They fall to the floor of the attic in a neat pile. You're shocked by the gesture, the fact that you're suddenly standing before him without a thread of clothing to hide your modesty.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>> Somehow, even though you did not agree to be his concubine...<</if>> You realize in that moment you don't mind your master treating you like this... Are these thoughts really your own? Then, before you have time to react, he grabs you, throwing you into his portal head first! It feels like the flesh on your skin is burnt away as a blinding light consumes you... <<piruSceneTransition >>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0144.png">The two of you sit silently at the table, eating porridge, neither saying a thing, both knowing that words are unnecessary. You're grateful that the bastard showed up, but you're not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing it. ... That same day, as expected, Ylva scolds you for your stupidity. Kerr is ignoring the chaos, sitting silently on a barrel in the corner of the common room, meticulously sharpening his knives with a whetstone. Honestly, you get what Ylva is saying. Judging by the apologetic looks on both Erika's and Astrid's faces, they do too. But this wasn't your fault. Sure, getting seen and recognized by guards, that's on you. But none of that would've happened without that crazy bitch who attacked Astrid. Still, what's done is done, and for the next few days, you're just sitting on your butts, waiting for Einar, Ebbe and Arne to get back from their meeting with the client. [[A few days later...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/2-0144.png">He shrugs. "Just did as Arne told me to. Don't mention it." and stuffs his face full of porridge, ignoring you. Right, well you're grateful that the bastard showed up anyway, even though he's back to his usual self today. ... That same day, as expected, Ylva scolds you for your stupidity. Kerr is ignoring the chaos, sitting silently on a barrel in the corner of the common room, meticulously sharpening his knives with a whetstone. Honestly, you get what Ylva is saying. Judging by the apologetic looks on both Erika's and Astrid's faces, they do too. But this wasn't your fault. Sure, getting seen and recognized by guards, that's on you. But none of that would've happened without that crazy bitch who attacked Astrid. Still, what's done is done, and for the next few days, you're just sitting on your butts, waiting for Einar, Ebbe and Arne to get back from their meeting with the client. [[A few days later...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0060.png">"I must respectfully decline your invitation." you tell him, instinctively bowing your head to your master. He backs off, an amused look on his face. "Very well, assassin. Staying focused on your end of the deal, eh? Well, join me at the table." he announces. That is a more direct order, you feel in your bones. One you cannot refuse. You head over to the feast, slumping down on an empty chair. Piru even throws a blanket around you, conjured out of thin air, as you sit down, hiding your modesty. Well, that's better... As you nibble on the food, you can't help but wonder about the nature of the being before you and the realm you're currently in. The questions burn within you. Piru watches you with a curious smile, his eyes glinting with an otherworldly light. His smile taunts you. You must ask... [["Why are you smiling?"]]

<<set $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal to false>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_taste to false>> [[Piru Scene 1]]

<<set $tip_combat_enabled to true>>Options saved! Combat enabled! <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<set $tip_combat_enabled to false>>Options saved! Combat disabled! <<link "Back to story" $back_to_passage_title>><</link>>

<<silently>> <<if def $QIDDemonPledge_t5>><<else>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t5 to "Kill the priest Opettaille.">> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t6 to "Kill the priest Jokna.">> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t5 to "Find someone in the temple of the God of Mercy who can help you.">> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0161.png">As you approach the district, the rooftops become more challenging to traverse. You scale a particularly steep roof, your muscles straining, and pull yourself up onto a narrow ledge. From here, you can see the grand gates of the Divine District, guarded by heavily armed sentries. Right now, you're crouching on the roof of a building that, upon a glance down, looks to be a brewery. The distinct smell of hops lies thick. With your fingers gripping the rough stone, you lower yourself down to a narrow ledge below you. There you spot a small, grimy window and push it open, the hinges creaking softly. An attic. It looks neat and well-kept. Clearly not completely abandoned like the warehouse, but still no doubt infrequently visited. Could this be your new hideout? Only one way to find out. You glance inside. No one around, that's good. As you head inside, avoiding creaking planks, you give the space a thorough look. The space is cluttered, and crates and barrels are stacked haphazardly. Somehow you get the feeling this space sees infrequent use. You explore cautiously, noting a few tools and half-empty sacks of grain, remnants of the brewery's storage. In the corner, you spot the hatch leading to the second floor below. If you're to feel safe up here, you'll have to block that hatch. One of the crates should do... All you need is a warning that someone's coming, a buffer that slows them down, and you'll be gone before they see you. You drag a heavy crate over the hatch, positioning it carefully to block any unwanted intruders. Then, you add a few empty glass bottles onto the crate. If someone moves it, they'll fall, alerting you even in your sleep. Yes, this will work. If the crate and bottles are there when you return this evening, this will be perfect. Satisfied with your makeshift barrier, you take a deep breath and scan the attic once more, hoping this space will serve as a hideout for at least one night. Right. Now, you need some supplies. Food and drink, at the very least. [[Head out once more, looking for supplies.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0162.png">You slip out of the attic through the narrow window, this time making your way down to the bustling streets. The nearby local market is alive with activity, stalls offering everything from fresh produce and aromatic spices to fabrics and tools. Nothing like the grand bazaar to the north of Valkama, that's for sure. But close enough to the Industrial Harbor and the Divine District to have both the goods and the customers to gather a crowd. Nothing hides you from the prying eyes of guards like a thick crowd. You casually blend into the crowd, eyes scanning for an easy target. First, a bag. After a moment of glancing about, you spot a toy merchant engrossed in conversation with a customer, a sturdy canvas bag hanging carelessly from the side of their stall. Perfect. Looking around, you spot a small child playing nearby. For a moment, you observe the child. Looks like an orphan. No parents around. You lean down and whisper a quick promise of a copper coin, which you reveal to the child, if they beg the man with the bags for one of his toys. The child's eyes light up, and they run over to the merchant, tugging insistently on his sleeve. Then, with the merchant's attention diverted, you stroll up to his stall, your fingers deftly unclasping the bag's strap. You slip it over your shoulder and blend back into the crowd, the bag now securely in your possession. [[Time to disappear.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0163.png">With the merchant's attention on the child, you meld seamlessly into the crowd. It swallows you up, your movements fluid and purposeful. You weave through the sea of bodies, the stolen bag secure by your side, disappearing into the bustling marketplace like a shadow at dusk. After you gain sufficient distance from the merchant's stall, you open your eyes to new targets. Food and drink, here you come. As you move along the rows upon rows of stalls, you notice a stall selling meat - including sausages. Perfect food that doesn't need preparation, and delicious too. With the bag on your shoulder, you approach, feigning disinterest at the merchant's produce as you casually lean against the stall, pretending to wait for someone. Then you wait for an opportunity, trying to look bored. A few minutes later the merchant gets into an argument with someone you assume is their son. In the heat of the discussion, the merchant is distracted, and with practiced hands you pick up a long length of interconnected sausages, and stuff it into your bag. Then you disappear into the crowd once more. A while later, your trained eyes spot a vendor distracted by a haggling customer, their stall laden with ripe fruits and loaves of bread. To create an opening, you bump into a passerby, sending their purchases crashing to the ground. "Watch where you're going!" The passerby curses, scrambling to gather their scattered goods. The vendor's attention shifts, concern etched on their face as they rush to assist. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaim, pretending to help pick up the fallen items. Amid the chaos and muttered curses, you slip a few apples and a loaf of bread from the merchant's stall into your newly acquired bag with practiced ease. Then, with the vendor's attention fully on the passerby, you straighten up and blend into the crowd once more, the stolen goods secure in your bag. Right. The guards will likely be a bit more alert now. Time to wrap things up. [[Find something to drink.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0164.png">Something to drink... Mead? A nearby stall with bottles of the stuff prominently displayed catches your eye. Next to the stall is a mule, tied to a post. The vendor doesn't seem to be paying any attention to the animal, busy as he is haggling with a customer. Sensing an opportunity, you approach the mule cautiously. With crossed arms, you discreetly poke the animal with the edge of your dagger, agitating the animal. With a loud snort, the mule starts to buck and kick, its hooves thrashing wildly as it tries to break free. The sudden chaos startles nearby patrons, who jump back in alarm, some even dropping their purchases. As the vendor struggles to calm his agitated mule, you swiftly seize the opportunity to grab a couple of bottles of mead from the nearby stall, slipping them into your bag amidst the confusion. With the mead secured, you blend into the crowd, the panicked braying of the mule covering your escape as you melt away into the bustling market. [[Time to leave the market.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0165.png">With a bag full of apples, bread, and mead, you make your escape. Or so you planned. Suddenly, you find yourself face to face with a group of guards, their expressions stern as they block your path. You grab the bag tightly, knuckles whitening, while you wordlessly reach for your dagger, trying to act casual. They haven't accused you of anything yet, maybe they're not here for you... A furious man stands next to the guards, the merchant from whom you stole the bag you realize. Next to him is the child who provided the distraction for you, crying, lifted painfully from his ear. He sobs, cries, and points a finger at you. Shit... "That's her! She stole my bag!" he shouts, his voice ringing out above the din of the market. The crowd is thinning, and an empty circle appears around you and the guards. Just when things couldn't get any worse, the merchant whose bread and apples you pilfered pushes his way through the crowd, his face red with anger. "Hey, I recognize her! She stole produce from my stall!" he exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction as well. You feel the weight of their accusations bearing down on you, trapped between the guards and the angry merchants. "No funny business now. You'll be coming with us, thief..." One of the guard's says. At least he doesn't appear to have recognized you, which gives you a bit of an advantage... Your mind races as you search for a way out of this predicament. You did outstay your welcome, clearly. Should've just grabbed a few things and disappeared, but here are, still in the market. And without the helping hand of anyone in your crew... No wonder the merchant caught on to what you were doing. Piru's infernal dagger feels hot to your touch as your fingers grip it. There are just three guards, and you have your armor and a blood-thirsty dagger. Surely, you can take them on? It's going to be tough though... Or, you could just make a run for it and climb up the abandoned stall to your right. There's no way the guards can follow you there. <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "Three market guards block your way out, swords in hand. They surround you in an attempt to cut off your exits...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "After Market Combat">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "You can take them. Fight your way out. (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl2">><</link>><<else>><<link "You can take them. Fight your way out. (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>> [[You'd rather not spill blood over a bit of food. Make a run for it.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_kill_guards to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0166.png">With the guards closing in and the merchants pointing accusing fingers, determination fills you. In a split-second decision, you dart towards the nearest stall, ignoring the startled cries of the vendor and the scattering of her wares. The frightened crowd parts before you. With a burst of agility, you hoist yourself up onto the stall's counter and leap onto the roof of the makeshift structure. The crowd below gasps in surprise as you navigate the precarious rooftops of the stalls, heading towards the nearest building, your heart pounding with adrenaline. Ignoring the calls to stop, you press on, leaping from one unstable stall's rooftop to another with reckless abandon. You put more distance between yourself and the guards, determined to evade capture as you throw your grappling hook onto the roof of the first building you reach, quickly climbing up the wall, as nimble as a Glaceweaver, a spider that inhabits the icy regions of northern Jaerwik. With a bag full of food, and an angry crowd behind you, you push forward. Next stop, the Divine District. After a short break, catching your breath, you resume your journey across the rooftops. [[You reach the Divine District]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_kill_guards to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0167.png">The first guard lunges forward. You sidestep his attack with lightning speed, the gleaming blade of your dagger flashing in the dim light. With a swift, precise motion, you strike out, the enchanted dagger slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. The bone dagger bites deep into the flesh of one of the guards, drinking his blood with glee. He drops dead in an instant. His comrades stare at the display, eyes wide, but they advance on you. You expertly parry the strike from The second guard, stepping in close enough to smell the beer on his breath. The dagger does the rest like it has a will of its own. The guard topples, coughing, and when he falls you slide away, expertly dodging the sword of the last guard still standing. Without a trace of blood on the infernal dagger, you slice, cutting fingers from the guard's sword arm. He drops his weapon, a shocked expression on his face as he clutches the stump of his hand. The man is no threat, and you turn to leave. But as you do, you find yourself drawn to the guard, the will of the dagger adamant, tugging you. Disturbed, you try to break free from the strong force that has suddenly taken hold of you, forcing you to face the guard again. Your hand is clutching the dagger painfully, unable to let go, as it lunges, piercing the guard's left eye in with a loud, we,t plopping sound. Horrified, you watch as the blade feasts, blood disappearing into bones, runes visibly flaring up in a flash of power. The guard drops dead at your feet... The crowd stares at you and the dead guards, unable to move, but unable to look away. Fuck... Finally free from the possession of the blade, you make a split-second decision, and dart towards the nearest stall, ignoring the startled cries of the vendor and the scattering of her wares. The frightened crowd parts before you. With a burst of agility, you hoist yourself up onto the stall's counter and leap onto the roof of the makeshift structure. The crowd below gasps in surprise as you navigate the precarious rooftops of the stalls, heading towards the nearest building, your heart pounding with adrenaline. Ignoring the calls to stop, you press on, leaping from one unstable stall's rooftop to another with reckless abandon. You put more distance between yourself and the guards, determined to evade capture as you throw your grappling hook onto the roof of the first building you reach, quickly climbing up the wall, as nimble as a Glaceweaver, a spider that inhabits the icy regions of northern Jaerwik. With a bag full of food, and an angry crowd behind you, you push forward. Next stop, the Divine District. You take out the infernal dagger, staring at the thing. Hungry for blood indeed... Piru wasn't joking about that. You'll have to be careful from now on, don't want things getting out of hand because you can't control the blade... After a short break, catching your breath, you resume your journey across the rooftops. [[You reach the Divine District]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_enter_through_window to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0171.png">You'll probably raise less suspicions by entering through the maintenance gate, rather than climbing in through the window. You pack your things into the bag, swing it over your shoulder, and then begin the climb down to street level. There are no prying eyes in the alley you jump down into. Then you approach, blending into the crowd. Devotees clad in ceremonial robes move with purpose, their heads bowed in silent prayer. Merchants sell religious artifacts and offerings from colorful stalls, their voices harmonizing with the distant chants and hymns emanating from the temples. Pilgrims from distant lands, identifiable by their varied attire and accents, marvel at the sacred architecture and exchange tales of their journeys. Children dart through the throng, laughing and playing, while street performers, dressed as mythical figures, entertain passersby with tales of gods and heroes. The air is filled with the mingling scents of incense and street food, creating a vibrant and reverent atmosphere. Guards in polished armor patrol the area, their watchful eyes ensuring that peace and sanctity are maintained in this hallowed part of the town. You bow your head in prayer, avoiding the stern gaze of the guards. [[You reach the maintenance gate.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_enter_through_window to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0172.png">Too many people in the courtyard and the streets, not to mention guards. Better to slip in unseen through the window. You move stealthily across the rooftops, the early summer sun casting long shadows that aid your concealment. The grand temple of the God of Mercy looms ahead, its light-colored stone walls radiant in the daylight. From your vantage point atop a neighboring building, you spot the open window high on the temple's side: Your target. From up here you can see the courtyard below. Statues of the goddess, carved from pure white marble, stand sentinel amidst the foliage, their gentle expressions embodying the divine compassion they represent. Worshippers, clad in simple robes, move quietly through the space, some kneeling in prayer by the fountains, others lighting candles at small altars tucked beneath the trees. The soft hum of whispered prayers and the delicate scent of blossoms fill the air, creating a sacred atmosphere of peace and reflection. The peace and quiet is broken by a whipping sound. You trace the sound, revealing the source: A gathering of men in robes, standing in a circle around a kneeling man. The skin on his back is exposed and red, his blood dripping freely onto the sacred ground below. In the kneeling man's own hands is an instrument of penance: A flaggent's whip, already red with his blood. The men standing in a circle around the man are chanting softly, interrupted only by the sound of the man striking his own back with the whip. He grunts, frothing from the mouth, muttering a prayer no doubt between his strikes. You stare at the scene for a moment, stunned. Then, remembering why you're here, you shrug, returning your attention to the window ahead. [[Throw the grappling hook through the window.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0169.png">Piru appears from his portal, a smile on his face, sitting down next to you on the blanket without hesitation. There's a lingering smell of his realm left in the air. "Aahh... The magnificent temple of the most benevolent and glorious god of "mercy"..." he says mockingly, gazing up at the structure with feigned awe. "Truly a godforsaken place, this. A pit of vipers that makes the infernal realms look like heaven." he adds, grabbing one of your apples. He chews thoughtfully. How can a temple of a god be godforsaken, you wonder. But then again, this is a demon talking. Probably has a personal grudge against any and all divine. "Who are my targets?" you ask Piru, ignoring his comments. After a moment of thoughtful chewing, Piru reveals, leaning closer to you. "A foul priest by the name of Opettaille. And an elder of the temple, Jokna." Piru reveals. The air grows hot like he's fuming with anger when he speaks their names. You find yourself wondering... "What did these priests do, to deserve your wrath?" Piru glances at you. "Besides being sanctimonious charlatans and leeches disguised as priests? Well... They took something most precious from me... And it's time they paid the price." You realize then that Piru is not going to reveal more on the subject, at least now, so you drop it. Instead, you ask... [["So I just walk in there, slice their throats and we're done?"]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0170.png">Your questions is met by an amused chuckel. "Indeed, that would be ideal, wouldn't it? However, a little bird whispered to me that the elder, Jokna, is currently absent from the temple. In fact, he's not in Jaerwik at all, but expected to return in a few days. So, you could march right in and kill Opettaille, but that would only serve to alert them to a future threat, making it much more difficult to reach Jokna..." he shrugs. "Alternatively, you could adopt a patient approach, slowly earning their trust and eventually securing a personal invitation to meet with Jokna. The choice, dear Taru, is entirely yours to make." Well, that changes things. If your second target isn't even in the temple right now, then killing the other priest would just raise suspicions and security here. No, doing that without Jokna present in the temple would be a bad idea indeed. "Ah, I perceive you are lost in contemplation. Fear not, my presence shall not hinder your strategizing. May your deliberations be fruitful, and your actions bring enjoyment, whatever path you choose to tread... Oh, and do remember that my power does not reach within the hallowed halls of the God of Mercy. So stay out of trouble, hmm?" he says, stands up, and disappears into a portal. It doesn't look like anyone from the street level saw your little demonic visitor or his portal... Right. Well, you'll figure out what you'll do when you get there. First, you need to decide which way to enter. The open window, or the maintenance gate? [[Enter through the maintenance gate.]] [[Enter through the window.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0174.png">The maintenance gate to the temple of the God of Mercy is a discreet yet sturdy structure nestled along the temple courtyard's outer wall. Unlike the grand, ornate main entrance, this gate is more utilitarian in design, constructed from reinforced oak and bound with iron bands. Moss and lichen cling to the weathered wood, hinting at its long-standing service. The gate is set into a small alcove, partially hidden by creeping ivy and overshadowed by a large, ancient oak tree whose branches stretch protectively over it. A simple iron handle and a heavy lock suggest its restricted access, emphasizing its purpose for temple staff and maintenance workers rather than for worshippers. Above the gate, a stone arch carved with subtle religious symbols provides a modest nod to the sacred nature of the grounds it guards. Nearby, a narrow, well-trodden path leads to the gate, flanked by neatly trimmed hedges and small, flowering shrubs, maintaining the temple's serene and orderly appearance. No one is around and the door is unlocked. This is all too easy. Silently, you slip inside. The grand template towers before you, impossibly high, but you ignore the grandeur. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You're here to find Opettaille.<<else>>You're here to find a priest who's willing to help you...<</if>> [[Step into the courtyard, like you belong here.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0065.png">After a moment of whimpering and breathing harder and harder, still desperately trying to fumble with his cock in your hand, he suddenly pulls his fingers out of you with a wet popping sound. Confused, you find yourself blinking up at him as he smiles, positioning himself over you. Then, with kisses starting from your nose and cheeks, an exploring taste of his tongue on yours, he continues down. Past your neck, gently brushing it with his lips. Past your breasts, that receive a firm caress and a teasing bite with his teeth that sends your back arching. His hands are softly moving down the side of your arms, your torso, reaching your waist. It sends shivers throughout your body, wherever his touch goes. This is unlike anything you've experienced before, like all your senses are heightened, overloaded, reacting to everything he does with bliss that feels unnatural. Yet, you embrace it, letting him explore your body. You close your eyes, enjoying it fully, completely forgetting about the fact that you're in the infernal realm, in bed with an archdemon. His tongue slides across your body, down past your belly. Then he reaches your legs, teasingly warming your desperately wet pussy with his breath, kissing your inner thighs. He grabs your hands into his, then places your hands on his shaved head. With you glance down, opening your eyes for but a moment, you see him hovering above your mound. He looks at you like he's waiting for you to approve. Your hands absent-mindedly touch the skin of his head... [[Invitingly pull his mouth against your pussy.]] [['Say: "Please, fuck me already..."'|fuck scene]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0066.png">When you pull him closer, you immediately feel his lips exploring you, saying hi to your outer lips, clitoris and your inner lips. Then, when it's clear to him that you have approved of what he's doing, his tongue skillfully plays with your inner lips. You shudder, closing your eyes again, as you press the demon against your vagina, letting him eat your pussy. His tongue quickly finds your clitoris, giving it a thorough caress with his tongue, then he explores your vaginal opening, tasting your wetness. You're a whimpering mess, shaking, as he brings his tongue up and down on your clitoris, swirling with his tongue in ways you didn't know was possible. One of his fingers finds your soaking wet pussy again, slinking in without resistance, and you lose the sense of time and space as he fucks you, and pleasures you. You're breathing hard, barely hanging on to consciousness as your vision darkens, your mortal body unable to deal with the pleasures Piru's realm is bringing you. Then, he pulls his fingers out of you again and gives your pussy a final kiss. Already over? But no, he moves up and lies down next to you, then with a smile turns around. Side-by-side, his head pointing towards your legs, and his cock pointing at your face, he leans in, kissing your legs and seeking his way back to your pussy. His cock inches closer to your mouth, which waters at the sight of it... [[Take him into your mouth.]] [['Say to him: "Please, just... Fuck me... Already..."'|fuck scene]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0067.png">His kisses find your outer lips again, and his tongue quickly returns its attention to your clitoris, while his fingers slide into you. Horny and desperate for cock, you open your mouth, letting him thrust his cock into your willing and wet mouth. It's warm and rock hard, filling your entire mouth with its length. And it tastes better than any cock has a right to taste... Addictively so. You fully embrace him, playing with his cock with your tongue, sliding it back and forth into your mouth while he pleasures you below. Piru lets you work his cock at your own pace, merely encouraging you by sometimes thrusting into you, making you gag on his entire length. With his cock in your mouth, you once again lose your sense of self. You're merely flesh, here to please him, to be pleased by him. This is your purpose now. And you accept it, embrace it. You take charge, pushing him onto his back, then straddle him, forcing your pussy onto his face. He diligently sucks and fucks your pussy with his mouth, not missing a beat. Then you lean down, turning your attention back to his cock, and take it all in repeatedly. You're fucking him with your mouth and throat, drooling all over him as you slide his penis into you again and again. He hasn't stopped treating your vagina like a queen the entire time. But now, you feel his hand reaching up, finding your hair, grabbing it, gently bobbing your head in rhythm with your own thrusts. Then, you feel him encourage you to hold it, and he pushes you down all the way. His balls nudge against your nose as he holds you there, his cock lodge deep into your throat. You cough, eyes wide, but he releases you almost immediately. You feel something raw inside of you, and at this point, all you want is for him to bend you over and fuck you until you scream his name in desperate surrender. You pop his cock out of your mouth, drenching his crotch in drool. Then you say to him, almost in a trance... [['"Please... Fuck me..."'|fuck scene]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0068.png">Piru obliges, stopping what he's doing, and stands up on his knees in his king-sized bed. And you, willingly, submissively, push yourself up on all fours, ass up in the air, face down into the bed. He doesn't waste time as he positions himself behind you, grabbing your waist in his hands, pulling you into a better position. You can feel his cock brush against your thigh as he seeks your wetness. Desperately, you open your legs wider and reach behind you, finding his cock. Then you guide him to your entrance. Finding it, you push the tip of his throbbing penis inside of you and then lean down, face against the bed sheets, letting him do the rest. With a grunt from him and a yelp from you, he slides into you. Your pussy is ready for him, embracing him, hugging his cock tightly as it enters. You grind your teeth at first, but then you succumb to the feeling, the overwhelming sensation that you belong here, in this position, bent over like this with Piru's cock inside of you just like that... He slides in, then out, and in again softly. No doubt he's enjoying himself, seeing you like this, desperately spreading your legs for him as he takes you from behind. Then, just when you're about to tell him to stop teasing and properly fuck you, he does just that. He grabs your waist, pinning you against him, as he thrusts himself into you faster. The bed creeks below you as he pushes you down into the sheets, pounding you. Time has no meaning anymore, and you have no other purpose than to be here be Piru's fuck-toy. Your breath is hard, and your heart is beating faster than it ever has in your chest. Then, he brings you to a soaring climax out of nowhere. "Fu-uuuckh!" Your gasp is loud, your back arching as you orgasm. It's unlike anything you've experienced before, raw and potent, engulfing your every sense. Wave after wave courses through you, numbing you to all else as your body trembles from Piru's attention... [[The feeling is overwhelming. You pass out with a smile on your lips.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0050.png">You shudder when the leather touches your neck, but you comply with Piru's request. This is what you wanted, right? And what he wants... You wrap the collar all the way around your neck, sliding the leather through its buckle, then close it with a click. Then you sit, completely naked in Piru's bed, a collar around your neck, watching your master for the evening expectantly. "Good girl. It feels great, doesn't it? Giving yourself to someone else...?" he teases. Then he takes a step forward, joining you in the bed. And you're unable to move, your breath catching in your throat as you watch him circle you. You feel his touch as he caresses your arms, your shoulders, your neck... He teasingly gives the collar a small pull towards him, choking you momentarily as he pulls you backward. Then he releases his grip and gestures towards the handcuffs in front of you. "Now, your hands... Right here..." he instructs, pinning your arms behind your back with his hands, then a moment later releases your arms. The steel handcuffs reflect the dancing lights in the room. Once again, you find yourself unable to say no to the demands of the archdemon... [[Grab the handcuffs]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0051.png">Piru's hand brushes against your back when you lean forward, grabbing the handcuffs. Then, when you return to a kneeling position in the bed, Piru playfully massages your hair with one hand, his other playfully touching the collar on your neck. You can feel his erection touching your waist, brushing against you. Then, with the cool steel handcuffs in hand, you willingly put both hands behind your back. Your right hand lightly touches Piru's penis by accident as you do so, and for a moment you forget what you were doing. "Your hands..." the demon reminds you from his position behind you, whispering seductively into your ear. [[With shaking hands, you lock the handcuffs...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0052.png">The anticipation is building, tangible in the air between you and the demon. You want to do this. You need to do this. With trembling hands behind your back, and the demon breathing playing with the collar on your neck, you do the unthinkable. You place the handcuff on your left wrist, open it, and then with a final submissive gesture lock it with a clicking sound on your arm. Then, without hesitating, you do the same for your right wrist. When the cool metal embraces your arm, you close your eyes, the click impossibly loud as you lock it in place. Now both of your hands are tied together behind your back. Instinctively, you test your bindings, tugging at the steel. They're strong, as you expected, giving you no escape from a binding of your own making. "A splendid performance indeed, Taru." Piru muses, his hands tracing your naked body, caressing it. When he cups your breasts, pinching your nipples, you yelp with surprise but quickly compose yourself as he moves on. "You will do as I say, little submissive slut, is that understood?" he comments, his voice commanding you to compel. You nod, completely his, unable to refuse him. Something about his presence, his voice, his realm... It's impossible to resist... "Say it." he demands, mocking you. Your throat is dry and it takes you a moment to finally say what he wants to hear. What you want to say... [["I'm your little submissive slut. And I will do as you say..."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0053.png">When the words leave your mouth, you know it to be true. This is what you've wanted, isn't it? To be someone else's, to not have to think, to simply please them... Piru circles you again, coming to stand on his knees in front of you, his massive demonic penis pointing at you. "Good. You learn fast, Taru. But words without action are meaningless. Show me." he demands, his eyes on you. The intentions of his words are crystal clear to you when he reaches for your collar, and nudges you forward and down just an inch, bringing your mouth just a tiny bit closer towards his throbbing cock... [[Take him into your mouth.|bdsm mouth]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0054.png">You're unsure just when you suddenly become desperate for his cock, but your mouth waters at the sighs of it so close to your lips. When you reach down, hands behind your back, Piru helpfully keeps your balance by gently grabbing you by your collar. Slightly choking, gasping for air, you open your mouth, letting him thrust his erect cock straight into your willing and wet mouth. It's warm and rock hard, filling your entire mouth with its width. And it tastes better than any cock has a right to taste... Addictively so. You fully embrace him, playing with his cock with your tongue, sliding it back and forth into your mouth. You're leaning forward, hands tied behind your back, choking on the collar and Piru's dick in your mouth. He lets you work his cock at your own pace, merely encouraging you by sometimes thrusting into you, making you gag on his entire length. With his cock in your mouth, you lose your sense of self. You're merely flesh, here to please him, to be pleased by him. This is your purpose now. And you accept it, embrace it. Your full attention is on his cock, and you take it all in repeatedly. You're fucking him with your mouth and throat, drooling all over his bed as you slide his penis into you again and again. You can feel his hand reaching up, finding your hair, grabbing it, gently bobbing your head in rhythm with your own thrusts. Then, you feel him encourage you to hold it, and he pushes you down all the way. His balls nudge against your chin as he holds you there, his cock lodge deep into your throat. You cough, eyes wide, but he doesn't let go. "Your throat was made for this, Taru..." he muses, finally letting go just as your lungs start to burn for air. His cock slides out of your mouth with a wet pop, spilling drool everywhere. "Time for your reward..." Piru declares. With a snap of his fingers, the handcuffs and collar slip away, floating back into the wall of devices. But your freedom doesn't last long... [[Piru flicks his wrist, lifting you into the air with his magic!]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0055.png">With the flick of his wrist, he lifts you up with unknown infernal magic. As you hover there, helplessly in the air before Piru, some of the devices on the wall slither and writhe free, crawling over the obsidian floor towards you. The inanimate objects, alive as if they're snakes, reach the bed and reach up at your floating and naked body, attaching themselves to your ankles, your wrists, and your neck. Just like being back in the prison cell again, but this time with the promise of something much more... A ball gag crawls over your skin on its own, reaching your face, forcibly pushing itself inside your mouth. Your moment of protesting, if you had second thoughts, is over, as the leather wraps itself around your head. Muffled, gagging, you simply stare at the chains now binding you. The animated chains force your hands behind your back, locking your wrists together tight before wrapping themselves around your waist in a firm unbreakable lock. Your neck is pulled back by chains around your throat, keeping your spine arched backward as you choke on the tight chains. The chains around your ankles and thighs force your legs apart, revealing your full nakedness to Piru who is now lying on his back on the bed below you, looking up at your naked, hovering and bound form. Then you're turned around and descend, croaking for air, gasping, the feeling of helplessness washing over you. You're just above Piru, legs wide open, hovering in an awkward half-sitting kind of position, with your back arched backward. Your restraints keep you pinned, unable to move an inch, the magic in the inanimate objects actively fighting against your weak attempts. And they're keeping you pinned like this, staring up at the floating chandeliers above you. Muffled and choking, there's not a thing you can do to protest as you descend further... "I can feel your weak mortal heart beating, exhilarated. Is it anticipation, or fear?" Piru says, the tip of his cock brushing against your wide-open wetness as you continue descending. And there you stay, the tip of his massive demonic cock barely touching you, teasing you. "Nod, and I take you. Shake your head, and we'll stop." he says. You're trembling and shaking, immobile not only by the chains but by your very desires. You want this. Badly... But it's almost overwhelming your senses, making you question whether these thoughts are yours or a result of you simply being here, in this realm... [[Nod for him to continue.]] [[Shake your head - you've had enough.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0175.png">You step into the inner courtyard of the temple of the God of Mercy and are immediately greeted by a secluded garden within. A lush tapestry of greenery, where ancient trees with sprawling branches provide dappled shade over manicured lawns and flowerbeds brimming with vibrant blooms. Stone pathways meander through the garden, leading worshippers to quiet corners adorned with marble benches and small, bubbling fountains. Statues of the goddess, carved from pure white marble, stand sentinel amidst the foliage, their gentle expressions embodying the divine compassion they represent. Worshippers, clad in simple robes, move quietly through the space, some kneeling in prayer by the fountains, others lighting candles at small altars tucked beneath the trees. The soft hum of whispered prayers and the delicate scent of blossoms fill the air, creating a sacred atmosphere of peace and reflection. When you walk further, the peace and quiet is broken by a whipping sound. A few more steps reveal the source: A gathering of men in robes, standing in a circle around a kneeling man. The skin on his back is exposed and red, his blood dripping freely onto the sacred ground below. In the kneeling man's own hands is an instrument of penance: A flaggent's whip, already red with his blood. The men standing in a circle around the man are chanting softly, interrupted only by the sound of the man striking his own back with the whip. He grunts, frothing from the mouth, muttering a prayer no doubt between his strikes. You stare at the scene for a moment, stunned. Then, remembering why you're here, you push on, attempting to stay clear of the madness you just witnessed. [[You reach the temple.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0176.png">The temple of the God of Mercy stands before you, a majestic edifice, an architectural marvel crafted from light-colored stone that gleams softly in the daylight. Its soaring spires and delicate arches are adorned with intricate carvings of benevolent spirits, invoking a sense of divine serenity. Large stained glass windows depict serene scenes of healing and compassion, their colors casting a gentle glow over the temple grounds. However, this close, you can see the details of the carvings that adorn the temple. A closer inspection reveals unsettling details that are in stark contrast to the temple's outwardly tranquil appearance. Subtle, yet ominous, iron spikes line the upper edges of the walls, hidden from casual view but unmistakable upon careful examination. Among the serene imagery, there are also depictions of penitent figures, their faces twisted in agony, kneeling on beds of nails, or reaching out in desperation. These disturbing motifs are woven into the intricate friezes and carvings, breaking the otherwise serene facade. For a moment you hesitate, but then you remember why you're here and push your way inside. There, the sense of disquiet deepens. While the main hall is illuminated by soft, ambient light filtering through the stained glass, the air is thick with an undercurrent of solemnity. Tall, slender columns support the vaulted ceiling, but between them, chains hang as grim reminders of penance. In the corners, small alcoves house altars adorned not only with offerings of flowers and incense but also implements of self-flagellation and repentance, suggesting a darker aspect to the worship of the God of Mercy. An aspect you witnessed outside moments ago in the courtyard. A priest stops you in the narrow hall, preventing you from going any further. "Greetings, citizen. All are welcome within the temple of our most merciful God. May her eternal benevolence shine on your soul." he says, folding his hand in the traditional prayer of his Goddess. "Thank you, I uh..." you start, but something in the man's expression changes. He takes a step back, eyes wide, and places a hand flat onto a holy book. "Oh merciful Goddess, in your infinite grace, protect us from the malevolent presence that dares to taint your sacred grounds and banish this darkness that has invaded your holy place..." he mumbles, staring at you with wide eyes. Frozen, you stare at the rambling priests and take a careful look around. You're alone here... And scared witless of you. Not a good start... You tell the priest: <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[['"I\'m here to see Opettaille."'|find opettaille]]<<else>>[['"I\'m here to seek help..."'|find opettaille]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0177.png">The priest's eyes dart from you to the entrance and back at you again as he takes another step backward, hand firmly planted on the holy book. "Yes... Yes... Opettaille... He-he can... he-help..." he finally stutters. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>Opettaille? Is he someone who won't become a blabbering mess when he sees you? Who can actually help you?<</if>> You cross your arms, growing tired of the man's blabbering. "Can you lead me to him?" you ask him. He nods, grabs his holy book, hugs it tight, and gestures for you to follow. He chants incomprehensible prayers, whimpering in panic, as he leads you through the narrow hall into a massive room with a roof taller than most buildings in Valkama. But you have no time to take in the sights as he rushes onward, pushing himself past worshippers and other priests. You have to sprint to keep up with him. Each priest you pass stares at you, wide horror on their faces, gesturing protective prayers and folding their hands to invoke their lady's favor. Something within you clearly has them scared senseless... Is it Piru's presence they feel? Or The Fathomless Hunger's? Or both? You ascend two stairs up and follow the rambling priest through a narrow corridor. [[Finally, the priest stops in front of a door.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0178.png">"Opettaille..." is all he manages to say to you when he opens the door, urging you inside. The room is dark, with a single candle burning at the far end near an altar. The priest seems to be in a hurry to get rid of you as he ushers you inside, then with haste retreats, slamming the door behind him. [[Take a look around the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_investigate">> <<set $ch3_kill_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0179.png">The room is shrouded in darkness, the only light emanating from a solitary candle flickering on an altar at the far end. The single open window in the room is only illuminating one tiny corner of this massive room. The faint glow casts long, wavering shadows across the space, revealing tall, ornate bookshelves lining the walls. Each shelf is filled with ancient tomes and scrolls, their leather bindings and parchment edges speaking of centuries of accumulated wisdom and devotion. A large, intricately woven rug covers the floor, muffling your footsteps as you move. The air is thick with the scent of aged paper and incense, creating an atmosphere of solemn reverence. The altar, a polished marble structure adorned with delicate carvings, stands as the room's focal point at the far end. Upon it rests the candle, its flame casting a warm, golden light on a richly embroidered cloth and an open prayer book. Kneeling before the altar is a man, his back to you, deep in prayer. He is dressed in simple yet elegant robes of white and gold, the colors of the God of Mercy. His head is bowed, and his hands are clasped tightly together, fingers interlaced in fervent supplication. When you step closer, approaching from the side, you notice that his eyes are closed, lips moving silently in prayer, completely absorbed in his sacred duty. He has not heard you yet. [[Announce your presence.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0173.png">With a swift, practiced motion, you throw the grappling hook through the window, securing it to the bottom frame. A firm tug ensures it's anchored. A final glance around you ensures that no one's watching you at this height, two floors above the street level. Then, you leap across the narrow street, the rope taut in your hands as you swing towards the temple. Your feet touch the wall with barely a sound, and you begin your ascent. The temple of the God of Mercy is a majestic edifice, an architectural marvel crafted from light-colored stone that gleams softly in the daylight. Its soaring spires and delicate arches are adorned with intricate carvings of angels and benevolent spirits, invoking a sense of divine serenity. Large stained glass windows depict serene scenes of healing and compassion, their colors casting a gentle glow over the temple grounds below you. However, this close, you can see the details of the carvings that adorn the temple. A closer inspection reveals unsettling details that are in stark contrast to the temple's outwardly tranquil appearance. Subtle, yet ominous, iron spikes line the upper edges of the walls, hidden from casual view but unmistakable upon careful examination. Among the serene imagery, there are also depictions of penitent figures, their faces twisted in agony, kneeling on beds of nails, or reaching out in desperation. These disturbing motifs are woven into the intricate friezes and carvings, breaking the otherwise serene facade. You ignore the disturbing scenes, focusing on why you're here. Hand over hand, you ascend, until you reach the open window. Silently, you peer inside before slipping through the opening, your landing inside cushioned and silent by your practiced feet. You stand in a dark room, with a single candle burning at the far end near an altar. A faint scent of incense fills the room, your heart pounding. [[Take a look around the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0181.png">The priest is clearly absorbed in his prayers, and alone in this room. You clear your throat, disturbing his prayer. At first, he doesn't seem to hear you, but when you clear your throat louder he opens his eyes and lowers his hands. A few moments later he looks around and sees you leaning against one of the bookshelves next to the altar. "Who dares disturb my prayer..." he begins, standing up. Then he gives you another look, a long hard look, piercing you with his pale blue eyes. "By the god... What are you?" he exclaims, staring at you with wide eyes. "Me? I'm just... Taru..." you answer. Clearly, he senses the dual entities within you, The Fathomless Hunger and Piru. Fascinated. He bows his head, just a tiny bit, and says: "You've done well to seek me out, Taru. I am Opettaille, the Inquisitor Exarch here at the grand temple of our most holy, most merciful God." He then reaches out with his hands, palms up. "Place your hands in mine, child. I wish to examine your soul..." You stare at the man and his hands, your heart suddenly skipping a beat in your chest. The Inquisitor Exarch's are eradicators of the God of Mercy, the executioners of the temple. They exist, even though Jaerwik in law and practice is a place that welcomes all religions. In truth, fanatics will stay fanatics, and some religions wage a shadow war against everyone and everything they deem heretical. Whether or not the law is on their side or not. And here you are, a person who does not hold strong beliefs on the God of Mercy, your soul trained by The Fathomless Hunger, your body sold to an archdemon. Is there anyone more heretical in all of Valkama than you, right now, from Opettaille's point of view? Hesitating, you ask... [["Why don't you strike me down where I stand... Exarch? For that is your purpose, is it not?"]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0221.png">Self-preservation finally kicks in as you scramble back onto your feet, deciding you've definitely outstayed your welcome. You have no intention of finding out what that thing is, the holy avenger of the God of Mercy, out to kill you dead for desecrating this holy place. No, you turn and run, bolting faster than you've ever done in your life through the dark room, dodging flying books and parchments in the deafeningly howling tornado that has invaded the room. The window is right in front of you, and without glancing behind, you grab your grappling hook and in one swift motion throw yourself as far out of the window as you can, throwing the grappling hook as far as you can straight ahead towards the building on the opposite side of the street. You fall, and fall, the hook not finding its target. A metallic clink turns your attention up, but you're still falling. The ground is fast approaching below. The hook hit the roof, bounced, and is now freely flying in the air above you. Shit... The hook did not connect, you realize as the ground meets you. This is what you get, Taru, for killing a priest. A swift karmic end... [[The smell of burning skin is the last thing you remember...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0182.png">His eyes soften, his facial expression lit by the single candle in the room reflecting curiosity, rather than malice. "I only extinguish those beyond hope, beyond absolution. You have saught me out to redeem yourself, correct?" He inquires. To this, you nod. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>It's best that he believes that.<</if>> "Well then. Place your hands in mine. Reveal your soul to me, child." he says, still holding out his hands. [[Put your hands into his.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Take no chances. Ignore Piru's advice and kill Opettaille right here right now.|kill opettaille 2]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0184.png">As you reach for his hands, a sudden chill down your spine raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Then, his calloused hands take hold of yours, firmly grabbing you. He closes his eyes, mutters a silent prayer, then stands still. For a brief moment, he's still, contemplating on what he is feeling. In your chest, your heart is beating harder and faster, your throat suddenly dry with a sense of dread. Then he flinches, like you bunched him in the face, and lets go of your hands. He moans, and takes a step back, leaning against the altar. He gasps for air like a fish out of water, face turning red. "By Her Great tits!" he curses, eyes wide. His outburst leaves you stunned, but you recover much faster than him. A moment passes before he turns to you again, a warning hand raised for you not to come closer. "Your soul is tainted by The Abyss. A terrible void fills you, shadows you, wherever you go." he begins. "And yet..." he looks at you with new eyes, disbelief in his eyes. "And yet, there's a demonic presence within you. A conjuring, a black conventicle, of obedience. You're bought and sold... How?" You ponder how much to reveal to the priest. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You're just here to gain his trust, after all, not spill all your dark secrets... But to gain his trust, you may have to tell him a thing or two.<<else>>To get his help, you may need to be honest with him... <</if>>You tell him: <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[The truth - all of it (leaving out the assassination deal).|continue priest]]<<else>>[[The truth - all of it.|continue priest]]<</if>> [[A partial truth - The Fathomless Hunger and a Demon have both possessed you against your will.|continue priest]] [[A vague truth - That you do not know what has happened, but you need help.|continue priest]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <<set $ch3_kill_opettaille to true>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0180.png">You likely won't be getting an opportunity like this again. Piru's infernal dagger finds its way into your hand, the demonic runes casting an eerie light into the almost completely dark room. You take a step closer to the praying priest, Opettaille, who still has not heard you. Too easy... When you reach him, murder in mind, the dagger acts almost on its own. You pull his head back, exposing his throat. His prayer reaches a surprised end, but before he has time to process what's happening, you sever his throat, bone dagger slicing through veins and windpipe like a hot knife through butter. He coughs blood, and stares wildly at the ceiling, into your eyes as life leaves his body. The dagger feasts on his blood, infernal runes basking the room in its glow. [[A howl fills the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <<set $ch3_kill_opettaille to true>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0183.png">You likely won't be getting an opportunity like this again. You pretend to place your left hand into his, while your right hand finds Piru's infernal dagger. Just before he touches you, you take a step forward, grabbing his hands in your left hand. You pull down, his hands no longer able to protect himself. Then the dagger acts almost on its own. Before he has time to process what's happening, you sever his throat, bone dagger slicing through veins and windpipe like a hot knife through butter. He coughs blood, and stares wildly at you, into your eyes, as life leaves his body. The dagger feasts on his blood, infernal runes basking the room in its glow. [[A howl fills the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0185.png">Opettaille nods at your explanation, a deep furrow in his brow. Finally, he shakes his head, leaning casually against the altar with crossed arms. "This is... Unheard of. Unprecedented. Uncharted water." he mutters. "But you seek salvation here, in Her sacred halls, against these evils that live within you?" he asks. To this, you nod. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Just play along now... <</if>>He looks thoughtful. "In the eyes of our most merciful God, you are a sinner. A true sinner. Not merely breaking the sacred rules of proper moral behavior amongst your peers, but breaking the very rules of humanity itself." he begins. "By all accounts, burning you alive is the proper way to deal with a sinner like you..." When he speaks the words, you can't help but take a step back, hand reaching for the infernal dagger in your belt. He sees your fear, your hesitation. "Relax, child. It is a good thing you came to me and not someone else. I am not one who blindly follows the books. In my role as the Inquisitor Exarch, I have come across numerous sinners. None as severe as you, I may add. Together, we can cleanse your body, mind, and soul from the evils that live within you." he says, reassuring you. For now, you let the dagger stay in its sheath. "...How?" you ask. Is a prayer going to cleanse your soul? Or are you going to have to beat yourself bloody like the man you saw in the courtyard? "It is going to be a long and arduous journey, child. If you truly seek salvation, for your soul and yourself, you must give yourself to this path completely. Are you familiar with flagellation?" he says. Here we go... "Of course I am... In theory." you reveal. He nods his head. "Before this is all over it may come to extreme measures like that. We seek the merciful God's blessing, and cleansing, of your body and soul. What ails you is far beyond mortal comprehension, or mortal influence. A heavenly miracle is all that can help you. And I will personally guide you on this journey of recovery." Opettaille explains. It's all a bit much to take in right now. After a thoughtful moment, you: [[Tell him you want to know more before you decide.]] [[Tell him to shove his whip up his ass. You're done here.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0187.png">He nods, understanding you hesitation. "What would you like to know?" he queries. "To start with, I'm going to need some proof that your God and faith can help me." The man rubs the stubble of a beard on his chin, then gestures for you to join him in front of the altar. Here, he kneels down, hands reaching out to touch the altar, palms flat. Tentatively, you do the same, unsure about all this. When you kneel down, hands on the altar just like Opettaille, he says: "Close your eyes. Open your senses. Feel her presence. Her power. Witness your doubts disappearing." Fine, you'll humor the man... You close your eyes. And feel nothing. As you expected. Why would a God have any time for a mortal like you? You glance at the man next to you. Opettaille is patiently kneeling in front of the altar, his eyes closed too, unmoving. Ugh... You close your eyes again, feeling the cool stone of the altar against your palms. A moment passes without any changes. Then, a slight tingling in your fingers alerts you. A presence... Everywhere around you. Startled, you suddenly feel like an insect about to be crushed beneath the boots of an uncaring giant. The feeling of weights pressing down on you forces your hands firmer onto the altar, a palpable energy that is at once sinister and benevolent. The very essence of the God of Mercy seems to envelop you, a force of compassion laced with an undercurrent of something darker. Your heart pounds in your chest as you sense the duality of this divine being—capable of immense kindness, yet not without a fearsome edge. The hairs on your arms stand on end, and you can't shake the feeling that you are being watched, judged, and measured by a presence far greater than yourself. [[Disturbed, you retreat from the altar.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0190.png">"If you think I came here to be treated like a dog and be whipped senseless, you're mistaken, priest. You can take your damned whip and shove it up your fucking ass - you hear me!" you growl, staring at the man. He looks at you with eyes filled with understanding. "Truly, I wish you luck out there, Taru. May you find an answer to your predicament out there." Opettaille says with a shrug. "I think it's best you leave, now." he advises, pointing at the door. [[Furious, you leave the temple.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille 3]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <<set $ch3_kill_opettaille to true>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0186.png">You likely won't be getting an opportunity like this again. You pretend to consider his words and step closer, while your right hand finds Piru's infernal dagger. Then you take a quick step forward, grabbing his neck. The dagger acts almost on its own. Before he has time to process what's happening, you sever his throat, bone dagger slicing through veins and windpipe like a hot knife through butter. He coughs blood, and stares wildly at you, into your eyes, as life leaves his body. The dagger feasts on his blood, infernal runes basking the room in its glow. [[A howl fills the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_raining_calm_piano">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0249.png">Clouds are beginning to gather over Valkama, casting a blanket of darkness over the rooftops, as you make your way towards the gardens of the Inner City. The warm sunlight no longer graces your skin as you steadily make progress towards your destination. The Inner Gardens. A place you and others of your 'social status' rarely visit. An exotic place full of flora not typically seen in Jaerwik, residing within the Inner City, just southwest of the Palace grounds and northwest of the Divine District. A place for the elite to marvel at the wonders of the world. There's no way you're going to pay the typical entry feee for the privilege to enter The Inner Gardens, not today. No, a more stealthy route is needed. You are, after all, a wanted criminal. Guards would likely be positioned at the main entrances anyway. With a plan formulated, you continue towards your target, even as the clouds turn darker by the minute. [[Hours later, you arrive...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0230.png">Piru appears before you, walking casually through his portal, a bored expression on his face. "Thought you'd find answers in a temple, of all places? A den of vipers, that is. Sanctimonious charlatans and leeches disguised as priests." he muses, lying down on his back on the rooftop next to you. You crouch down, eyes on the streets below. It looks like no one saw the demon appear... Otherwise, you'd hear screaming, right? "Can't say I liked what they were selling, no." you admit, sitting down next to your master. He hums a happy tune, conjuring a pipe out of thin air that he sucks on thoughtfully, sending plumes of smoke into the sky. "Ah, my dear friend, the offer remains ever so tempting. Imagine, becoming my mortal blade, my knife in the dark, lurking in the shadows." he says. With a wink, he adds: "To further entice you, my concubine: One of your two esteemed targets is none other than Opettaille." Truly? Well... "Thank you for the offer, Piru. But I stand by with what I said. I won't become your assassin." You answer, determined not to pledge yourself deeper. The demon casually shrugs. "A pity, that. Well, hopefully you'll change your mind!" and with those words, he conjures a portal below him, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Well... If everything else fails, you can still turn to Piru for help with removing The Fathomless Hunger's grip on you. As a last resort... For now, you wish to pursue your other option. The man from your dreams... [[Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking answers elsewhere.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0188.png">You scramble to your feet, distancing yourself from the altar. The presence of the simultaneously sinister and benevolent God disappears, and you're once again just standing in a darkly lit room in the temple. "You felt her, then? Powerful, isn't she?" he muses. Shocked, you ask him: "What is she... I felt an evil in her..." The words come out in a stutter. Opettaille nods. "The most merciful God of all in truth. For the sins of humanity, merely by existing, is an affront to the divine order. She should smite us down, eradicate us all without a trace from existence. But she does not. For Her kindness knows no boundaries. Her mercy no end." Opettaille reveals, no doubt quoting a passage from his holy scriptures. "All she asks for in return is remorse and repentance from her worshippers." You stare at the man, blinking in confusion. "Hence, the flagellations..." you whisper, seeing his faith more clearly now. He nods. "Precisely." So, a God that would like nothing more than to smite down humanity, you included, for simply existing? But chooses not to do it, because she is so kind? "What is humanity's sin, for her to hate us so?" you ask the priest. But he shakes his head at your question. "She does not hate us. She loves us. For why else would She show Her mercy, every day, to us? No... Humanity is a parasite upon the perfection of the world. A perversion. We are but maggots, feasting on the divine fruits. Unworthy, every last one of us. And so, we must seek repentance, for our nature, for soiling the divine perfection of the world with our existence." You can't quite make up your mind about what to believe... "Now that you know the truth, have felt Her power, are you ready to step into the light? Let Her embrace you? Repent for your sins?" Opettaille asks. He lights a few more candles, dispersing the deepest darkness of the room. In the better light, amidst the spell of parchment and incense, you get a better look at the man. He is a tall, imposing figure with sharp eyes and a stern expression. His presence is both commanding and unsettling, yet there is a certain gravitas in his demeanor that commands respect. "Do not worry. We will ease you into her embrace, beginning softly indeed. But I must warn you, your... condition... is severe. And so, in time, once you feel ready, severe measures may be needed." He adds as a warning. Hesitantly, you... [[Ask him what the first step is.]] [[Ask him more about the nature of his God first.]] [[Tell him this all sounds like bullshit and madness - you're done here.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0194.png">"If I were to seek your God's blessing... What would the first step be for me?" You ask, curious and terrified of the answer at the same time.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> For now, all you need to do is play along for long enough for the priests to trust you. Piru would be pleased by that...<</if>> Opettaille folds his hands. "For a sinner like yourself, before you prove yourself to Her and seek her blessing, you must prove yourself to me. Let's see if you are sincere and willing to walk this path." He says. "First, a question: Do you wish to seek forgiveness for your imperfections? To repent your sins before the most merciful of all Gods? To seek forgiveness and enlightenment through self-sacrifice and hardship?" Opetaille then asks you, pinning you with his gaze. Well, you can certainly try, can't you? How hard can this road to salvation truly be, after all? You almost smile when you think about this as a challenge. Surely you won't back down in fear now? But then you remember the man, beating himself bloody in the garden, and doubt fills you again. In the end, you tell Opettaille: [[I am ready for all of those things.]] [[On second thought, this is not the path for me...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0189.png">"You sound like a madman, raving about salvation while you whip yourself and your fellow worshippers bloody. I'm done with this bullshit." you snap, staring at the man. He looks at you with eyes filled with understanding. "Truly, I wish you luck out there, Taru. May you find an answer to your predicament out there." Opettaille says with a shrug. "I think it's best you leave, now." he advises, pointing at the door. [[Furious, you leave the temple.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille 3]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0192.png">"Can you explain the nature of your Goddess and her... Divine grace?" You ask him. "As I said." Opettaille begins, his voice low and resonant. "The Goddess of Mercy's compassion is not straightforward. She views humanity as deeply flawed, as creatures who often fall short of the divine ideal. As I said, in her eyes, we are akin to vermin—imperfect, frail, and prone to corruption. Yet, in her infinite mercy, she has chosen not to eradicate us." You feel a chill run down your spine as Opettaille continues, his tone growing more intense. "Instead, she offers us a path to salvation through acts of discipline and pain. Repentance is not merely about seeking forgiveness; it is about acknowledging our imperfections and striving to purify ourselves through suffering. Selflessly serving others, flagellation, self-denial, and rigorous discipline are the tools she provides for this purification." Opettaille's gaze softens slightly, a flicker of genuine reverence crossing his features. "The Goddess of Mercy believes that through pain, we can transcend our base nature. Each lash of the whip, each act of contrition, brings us closer to the divine. It is a process of cleansing, of burning away the impurities of our souls to reveal the purity within." He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "To serve the Goddess of Mercy is to embrace this path wholeheartedly. It is to understand that true mercy comes from recognizing our flaws and willingly subjecting ourselves to the trials that will refine us. Her mercy is not the gentle comfort of a healer, but the stern guidance of a mentor who demands the best from her pupils." Opettaille's eyes burn with a fervent intensity as he concludes. "Remember this: the Goddess's mercy is a gift, but it is one that must be earned through suffering and sacrifice. It is our duty to accept her judgment, to endure the pain she deems necessary, and to emerge stronger and purer for it. In doing so, we honor her divine wisdom and acknowledge our place in the grand scheme of her mercy." In thought, you... [[Ask him what the first step is.]] [[Ask him about the nature of his The Fathomless Hunger and Archdemons first.]] [[Tell him this all sounds like bullshit and madness - you're done here.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0193.png">"Can you explain the nature of The Fathomless Hunger, or The Abyss as you called it. And while you're at it, you seem to have a strong opinion of the archdemons as well. Care to share your thoughts?" you ask him. "The Abyss..." Opettaille begins. "...Is an entity of pure, unbridled malevolence. It is an ancient force, feeding on the suffering and despair of the souls it devours. It is mostly a passive presence, but through its worshippers, sows chaos in our world. The archdemons, on the other hand, take a more active role meddling with mortal lives. You are witness to this. Those beings, those entities of darkness, thrive on corruption and chaos. They seek to usurp all that is pure and good in this world for their own gains." He pauses, his eyes boring into yours as if trying to impress upon you the gravity of his words. "The archdemons and The Abyss are all embodiments of different evils. They twist and pervert the very essence of life, leaving only desolation in their wake. Their power is immense, their cruelty boundless. To face them is to confront the darkest aspects of existence. To host them within oneself, like you do, is a dire sin indeed." You feel a chill run down your spine at his words. But Opettaille's gaze softens slightly, a flicker of genuine reverence crossing his features. "The God of Mercy alone stands between humanity and these forces of darkness. Worshipping her is to step into the light." Opettaille's eyes burn with a fervent intensity as he concludes his view on these forces of evil. In thought, you... [[Ask him what the first step is.]] [[Tell him this all sounds like bullshit and madness - you're done here.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0222.png">You eventually awaken with a splitting headache, glancing up a never-ending void above. Floating chandeliers hover above you, casting a dim light across the room you find yourself in. It doesn't take you long to realize you're in Piru's infernal realm, and glancing about seeing the bed, his bedroom. For some reason you can't stand up when you try to move. It's at this point your whole body screams for help, in pain unlike anything you've felt before. An unwordly pain, impossible to feel as a mortal without dying from the shock alone. But here, in Piru's realm, kept alive by the demonic powers... You feel it. You should be dead. But you're not. You try to speak, but only blood gushes from your mouth, choking you. "Ah, my dear, such a pitiable state you're in!" Piru's familiar voice says as he walks into your vision, towering over you as he glances down at you with pity. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>[[Something is terribly wrong...]]<<else>>[[Something is terribly wrong...|forced concubine]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0224.png">You awaken an unknown amount of time later. The pain is gone, but the memory of it haunts you still. Slowly, you rise, feeling the back of your head. Hair. Dry. Your skull, is intact. And your mouth doesn't fill with blood when you cough as you stand up. Piru's infernal realm truly does heal all physical wounds... "Well, well! Look at you, already on the mend." Piru muses, still sitting at the table of food. You're not sure if you should thank him or curse him. What you experienced, the indescribable otherworldly pain, cannot be erased from your mind. But he did save your life... "Let this little interference of mine be a singular occurrence, dear concubine. Now, you've overstayed your welcome. It is time for you to return to your realm." he then says, and before you can protest, he conjures a portal beneath you. [[The portal consumes you.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0229.png">You fall, landing on the cobblestone streets of the Divine District, confused and disoriented. Around you a crowd has gathered, gasping in horror as you appear out of nowhere before them. The sun is high in the sky, and the streets brightly lit. You can't have been gone for long, you realize as you try to clear the fog that blurs your thoughts. A quick glance behind you reveals no trace of the ghostly figure that you saw in the church. But now you see guards, and priests approaching you, pushing their way through the crowd. Scrambling to your feet, you pick up your grappling hook, then without missing a beat throw it to the roof above and begin your swift escape before the guards reach you. You can hear the priests and crowd from below screaming, calling you a witch, a demon's pawn, and other profanities. But you ignore them, reaching the roof. Then, as quick as your legs can carry you, you run across the rooftops out into the city. At least one of your assassination targets is dead. But how to reach the second one is going to be a mystery... While you wait for him to return to Valkama, you might want to explore other avenues. Right now, you still do not have a lead on where your gang is. But Einar promised he'd meet you tomorrow in the evening, at the Rustic Fork Inn. But the voice who spoke to you in your dreams might have something interesting to say about your connection to The Fathomless Hunger. Follow the void inside of you, he'd said. Well, you sure can't hear a peep from any abyss, that's damned sure. But he did mention the Inner City Gardens. [[Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking the man who talked to you in your dreams.|Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking answers elsewhere.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0195.png">You sound more confident than you feel. "Very good. But words and meaningless without actions. Show me." he instructs, then with a gesture, nods towards the altar. "You require discipline. A strong hand to guide you through the darkness, to the light of my Goddess. Put your heretical hands on the altar once more, child. We will cleanse your body and soul. This is but the first steps we will take, so that She shall bestow upon you Her blessing." You remember the first time vividly. The God's presence, penetrates your very essence, judging you. Reluctantly, you do as he says, placing your hands on the altar once again. But this time, nothing happens. Blissful silence greets you as you rest your hands on the altar, the flat of your palms planted firmly onto the smooth surface. Opettaille comes to stand next to you and draws out a thin wooden cane from his robes. "Discipline cannot be found on its own. It must be taught." he says, hovering his teaching cane over your fingers. "Hold still now. And remember that path you now walk. This may hurt..." he says, then brings down the cane hard on your fingers. "Fuck!" you scream, fingers red and throbbing from the impact. [[Instinctively you pull your hands away.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0191.png">"This... I'm afraid this is not the path for me. I'm sorry." you tell him, unable to meet his gaze. "I understand. Truly, I wish you luck out there, Taru. May you find an answer to your predicament out there." Opettaille says with a shrug. "Well, I think it's best you leave, now." he advises, pointing at the door. [[Leave the temple|Furious, you leave the temple.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille 3]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0196.png">Shouting profanities in a temple isn't how you envisioned spending the day... But when you pull your hands away from the altar in pain, Opettaille scolds you: "Three times is needed, child. Once for your own sake. Once for the evil possessing your soul. And once for the infernal damnation that has taken root in your flesh." Opettaille explains. Gods be damn... Or blessed, you suppose... Somehow, you manage to place your shaking hands back onto the altar. His cane comes down again, drawing blood from your knuckles. You bite down, whimpering, trying to convince yourself this is all for a good cause.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> Secretly, you're plotting your revenge upon the priest already. The infernal bone dagger in your belt would certainly relish the opportunity to drink the priest's blood... But gaining their trust is your priority.<</if>> Just got to get through this... The third and last strike bursts the skin on your fingers. Cursing, you can feel tears forming in your eyes. The path to the God of Mercy's favor is quite clear to you now. Pain and discipline in equal measures... Opettaille finally puts away the cane, and then holds out his hands. When you refuse to show your bloodied fingers to him, he says with an apologetic look on his face: "Truly, this is but the beginning child. Let me mend your wounds, for my most holy Lady demands sacrifice, but rewards those that walk Her path." He patiently holds out his hands, waiting. [[Reluctantly, show your bloody fingers to him.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_spanked_by_opettaille to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0197.png">He takes your hands into his and closes his eyes, softly massaging your wounds. "It takes a great deal of willpower and discipline to endure what you just did. You show great promise." he muses. A warm tingling sensation has begun to spread from your hands, radiating to your twitching and bloody fingers. Then, the pain fades, replaced only by warmth. Like holding your hands out towards a fire. Stunned, you inspect your hands when Opettaille releases his gentle touch. "Holy sh... I mean, this is spectacular!" is all you manage to say, stunned and amazed. Your fingers are fully healed, showing not a sign of the trauma they just endured. "She takes and She gives." Opettaille simply muses with a smile. Then he walks to a shelf in the corner of the room, returning with another instrument of divine discipline. "The way to save your soul is a hard road indeed, but you have admirably begun it. Now, bend over, child. Just like that, hands remain on the altar. There..." he instructs, making you bend over his altar. [[You can't take this humiliation - leave before this gets worse...]] [[The road is long and hard. Bend over the altar, exposing your ass...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_spanked_by_opettaille to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0199.png">The way he has you bending over the altar now... Suddenly, you're blushing, even though you're fully clothed. In this position, your ass is promptly exposed. You can't believe you're doing this... Is this truly the only way to get the Goddess' favor? <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Piru must be laughing now, if he's somehow watching... You remind yourself why you're doing this...<</if>> "Count with me child. Three is the number of your sins. For all mortals are sinful, and you have further sinned twice, once with your soul and once with your body..." And then he strikes you with his wooden paddle on your buttocks, sending the air out of your lungs from shock. Gods! He is literally beating the two evils out of your body, isn't he? Or trying to... "Count, child." he demands. Reluctantly, you manage to stutter: [["One..."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0198.png">"This... I'm afraid this is not the path for me. I'm sorry." you tell him, unable to meet his gaze as you pull away from his, taking a few deliberate steps away from the altar. "I understand. Truly, I wish you luck out there, Taru. May you find an answer to your predicament out there." Opettaille says with a shrug. "Well, I think it's best you leave, now." he advises, pointing at the door. [[Leave the temple|Furious, you leave the temple.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille 3]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0200.png">He strikes again. The pain makes your knees weak and you lean harder onto the altar, keeping yourself standing with the strength of your arms. "Two..." you whimper, head spinning. You steel yourself for the next impact... The third strike, when it comes, is too much. Your weight suddenly feels much too heavy for your knees. In an uncontrolled manner, you collapse down onto the altar. There, you catch your breath, your ass a raw and hot mess, throbbing and hurting. Then, when you realize the priest is waiting for your count, you manage to whisper... "Three..." Opettaille leaves you momentarily alone, putting back his divine instrument of discipline. But you're too weak, too hurting to notice. "You have convinced me, Taru. You have earned the right to walk in Her path if that is still your wish. Remember: Selfless acts of giving, self-sacrifice, discipline, and repentance in pain awaits you if you continue to walk this path to salvation." He explains, coming to stand next to you. "Hmph... Your pants seem to have ripped from that last strike. Allow me..." he says, then you feel him moving closer, placing a hand on your waist. His other hand lightly traces the roundness of your ass, where it hurts the most. Shocked, you... [[Flinch and pull away!]] [[Stay where you are...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0201.png">When his fingers lightly touch your ass, you flinch, and even though your legs are weak you push yourself away from the altar. "Wait just a minute..." you begin, flustered. The look on Opettaille's face is completely neutral, like there was nothing odd with what he was doing. "I invite you to take a look for yourself." he says, waving in the general direction of your hurting ass. A glance behind you reveals what he is talking about. Your ass is bruised and red, clearly showing from a massive tear in your pant's fabric. The view you must've given him just moments ago... Blushing crimson, you point an accusing finger in his direction. "You'd better fix this..." you manage to say, feeling awkward and angry at the same time. "My Lady was going to do just that through Her divine miracles. But my body cannot act as a vessel for Her power unless I am close." Opettaille explains patiently, gesturing for you to bend back down onto the altar again so he can fix your pants. Humiliated and hot in your face, you... [[Do as he says.|Stay where you are...]] [[Tell him to look the other way while you take off your pants. He can fix them then...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0203.png">As you bend over the altar you become acutely aware of his hands, softly touching the fabric of your broken pants. His fingers brush your ass, but you stay silent, heart beating in your chest. A familiar warmth spreads from your behind, just like the sensation when he healed your fingers. A reverse ripping sound of fabric being torn sounds, and then Opettaille steps back. A glance back reveals that your pants are whole again. Slowly, you get back into a standing position, your knees still weak. Through gritted teeth, you manage to ask... [[What now...?]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0202.png">"You may repair them, but they won't be on me when you do it. Look the other way." you command him. He simply shrugs and turns around. With your weak and shaking legs, you barely manage to pull down your pants. But then you finally manage to do it. Now you're standing in the dimly lit room alone with Opettaille, underwear fully visible. You throw your pants on the ground in front of Opettaille, who is still looking in the other direction. "No turning around now. Just... Fix them." you tell him, trying your best to cover yourself. And he does just that: Bends over and picks up your pants. A faint light shimmers from his hands where he touches the fabric. A ripping sound, but in reverse, is all you can hear. Then, before you know it, he throws your pants back to you without turning around to look at you. "We are forever grateful for your gifts, my Goddess." Opettaille whispers, clearly not talking to you. Slowly, you manage to put on your pants again. "You can turn around now, priest." you tell him, folding your arms. Through gritted teeth, you manage to ask... [[What now...?]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0204.png">Opettaille looks like he was expecting your questions. "Your timing could not be better. There's an initiation ceremony in the lower halls today, in just half an hour. The next initiation ceremony will be next month. Normally, I would not suggest you participate in it so soon. However, your circumstances are quite unique. It is clear to me that your need for the God of Mercy's favor is dire indeed. Do you wish to join the ranks as a novice?" He says, patiently waiting for your answer. You don't have time to wait a whole month... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>The sooner you get inside their ranks and trusted by them, the better.<<else>>The sooner you get help with dealing with the evils within you, the better.<</if>> And so, you find yourself nodding to the priest. You are ready. "Excellent. I have high hopes. As part of the initiation, you must lay yourself bare, literally, before Her judgment. You will be joined by a dozen other novices in this ceremony." Opettaille explains, then walks to the front of the altar where a small prayer mat rests on the floor. "Remove your clothes and belongings. All of them. Place them into the chest over there. Then kneel on the prayer mat in solemn meditation. Once you take this step, there's no turning back. The Goddess will see it as an insult." Opettaille points to the corner of the room. He wants you to do what!? Startled, you simply stare at him. This is all beginning to be a bit too much. And it sounds way too close to what the cult of The Fathomless Hunger did to you too... What possible purpose could all this serve? You say... [["Why...?"]] [["I don't think so."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0205.png">You're confused. This has already been weird, the cane, the spanking. Now this? "You must expose your sins to Her magnificent lady. I will leave you alone for your meditation if it makes you feel better." Opettaille says. Well if he won't be in the room, then that might change things. You say... [["Fine..."]] [["No way, priest. We're done here."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0206.png">You outright refuse to do that. This has already been weird enough. "You must expose your sins to Her magnificent lady. I will leave you alone for your meditation if it makes you feel better." Opettaille says. Well if he won't be in the room, then that might change things. You say... [["Fine..."]] [["No way, priest. We're done here."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0208.png">As soon as you say the words, you feel something change inside of you. A reluctant obedience before the authority of the God of Mercy and the priest. Salvation is not an easy road, after all. Self-sacrifice and discipline will be needed, and this seems like a test to you. A test you will not fail. Opettaille nods at your words and turns to leave you alone in your prayer. "I will return when it is time for us to join the ceremony. Expose your flesh and thoughts to Her lady, emptying your mind before her." He instructs. Then, he leaves you alone in the dimly lit room, closing the door behind him. For a moment, you simply stare after him. But your heart just won't stop beating faster as you glance at the chest and the prayer mat. Lay yourself bare indeed... Slowly, you approach the chest. The priest won't actually know if you're naked on the mat, right? Well, until he returns and sees you of course. Departing with your equipment, weapon and armor doesn't seem like a good idea. But then again, if you wish to see things through with the God of Mercy you may just have to start accepting your place in Her design. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>It is temporary, after all. Just long enough to gain Opettaille's and the other priest's trust. To come and go in the temple as you like. Assassinating both targets for Piru will be much easier then...<</if>> Fine.... Fine. Fine! Alright. Damn it. You'll do it! A final glance around the room reveals that you are indeed alone. [[Put your weapons into the chest.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_opettaille_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0207.png">"This... I'm afraid I cannot do this. I see now that this path isn't for me. We're done here." you tell him, unable to meet his gaze as you pull away from his, taking a few deliberate steps away from the altar. "I understand. Truly, I wish you luck out there, Taru. May you find an answer to your predicament out there." Opettaille says with a shrug. "Well, I think it's best you leave, now." he advises, pointing at the door. [[Leave the temple|Furious, you leave the temple.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Ignore Piru's advice. Kill Opettaille here and now.|kill opettaille 3]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0209.png">You begin by removing your belt, and with it, the infernal bone dagger. Its runes are lighting up the room with a faint glow. Hesitating, you put the dagger and belt into the chest. Then, you begin opening the buckles of your leather armor, opening its clasps. You can't believe you're doing this. You're in a divine temple, for crying out loud, removing all of your clothes. To say it feels strange would be an understatement. Then, you place the bag of stolen food into the chest as well. Finally, you manage to remove your brown-black leather armor. You place it in a neat pile in the chest. Now you're only wearing your pants and your bra. Slowly, you pull down your pants, placing them into the chest. You're beginning to feel extremely exposed right now. Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all, taking off all your clothes and your equipment like this... [[You have second thoughts. Leave the temple before Opettaille returns.]] [[Obediently continue removing your clothes.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0210.png">You've come this far already, might as well see things through. With those thoughts in your head, you unbutton your bra, letting it slide off your shoulder into the chest. Then you remove your boots, and finally your underwear. When you glance down into the chest, you see your past life before you. The things you have done in that armor. The people you've killed over the years. The things you've stolen. Broken into it. All sins in the eyes of the God of Mercy. A deep breath later, you face the altar again, approaching. The sound of your racing heart and soft naked feet on the floor of the room is all you hear as you reach the prayer mat. [[Expose yourself to the Goddess. Kneel.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0211.png">With legs that are shaking not only from the treatment Opettaille gave you earlier but also out of fear, you kneel down into the prayer mat. Then, without a clear clue what to do next, you simply sit there with your hands in your lap. Your heart feels like a drum in your chest, and sounds impossibly loud in your ears. Then, you wait, trying to calm yourself. Seeking a place of meditation, trying to ignore the fact that you're naked right now. You close your eyes, taking slow and deep breaths. A moment passes in stillness. Then, a gentle warmth spreads through your skin from all around you. An unseen presence surrounds you, making the air hum with energy. It feels as if a vast, unseen gaze falls upon you, its weight gentle yet unyielding. The sensation is paradoxical: A blend of soft compassion and stern scrutiny. You sense the God of Mercy's essence wrapping around you, like a tender embrace with an edge of a warning. Your heart somehow beats even faster now, knowing that you are being judged not just for your thefts and assassinations, but for the very essence of your being. The corruption of the abyss within you, the pact with an archdemon, all lie bare under this divine gaze. The atmosphere thickens, not oppressively, but with a clear message: every action, every thought, every flaw is laid open to this merciful yet exacting deity. [[You're paralyzed on the mat, unable to move.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0212.png">The God's gaze paralyzes you, rooting you to the spot. A profound sense of unworthiness washes over you, as if every sin, every misstep is magnified under this divine scrutiny. You feel small, insignificant, and undeserving of mercy. Your breath catches in your throat, your limbs heavy and immobile. Then, just as you think you cannot bear it any longer, the weight begins to lift. A sense of clarity emerges, a path forward becoming visible in your mind's eye. The message is clear: by surrendering your thoughts and doubts, by embracing Her will and plan without question, you can find what you seek. The God of Mercy demands discipline and obedience, and through this unwavering devotion, a way is opened for you. You feel a shift within, a silent resolve forming. The divine presence eases its grip, granting you the strength to move once more. The path will not be easy, but with each step aligned to Her will, you know you are guided by a force far greater than yourself. The God of Mercy's demand is clear: serve with absolute faith, and you shall find your way. Through her divine servant, Opettaille, you will find repentance. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>This is all beginning to feel too real. Too tangible. Are you still just doing this to serve Piru, to infiltrate the ranks? Or have you found a new path, serving Her instead?<</if>> The presence of the God of Mercy fades, but you remain kneeling on the mat, eyes shut, deep in thought. [[A while passes as you meditate.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <<set $ch3_chest_locked to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0213.png">You lose all sense of time as you kneel before the God, thinking back on your life. Will you change your ways after this experience? No, definitely not. Will you seek forgiveness for your old sins, and new sins? Well, maybe. With Opettaille's guiding hand, you might yet save both your soul and your body, from The Fathomless Hunger and from Piru. Right now, She feels like a divine force to be reckoned with. Eventually, the creaking sound of a door opening startles you awake. And it is then you are reminded once more that you're completely naked here. Opettaille's footsteps approach, his robes softly sweeping the floor where he walks. At this point, you're glad the room is dimly lit. This way, it hides at least some of your modesty... The priest comes to stand between you and the chest, behind you where you cannot see him, and he cannot see your nakedness. A glance behind you reveals that he's carrying a metallic contraption of some sort, which he now places on the altar. "Very good, child. Did you find your path?" He asks. When you nod, he hums, sounding pleased. "Good. The ceremony is about to start. I need you to place your trust in me, Taru. The others are preparing, just like you have. First..." he says, and moves to the chest with your things. If he is enjoying watching your nakedness, kneeling on the mat, he's not showing it. "The ceremony demands that you remain exposed before the God of Mercy. Your clothes will remain here for the duration. And, as a sign of trust, you must allow me to lock the chest." he says. Blinking, you try to process what you just heard. Your throat is suddenly dry. The ceremony needs you naked? Why... Well, to expose yourself to the God, or so he says. This is quickly beginning to be uncomfortable. When you hesitate, Opettaille adds: "To hide your identity, and spare you from prying eyes, you will don this cage over your head." he says, picking up the iron contraption. The metallic thing looks almost like a helmet but it has spikes and holes in all directions. Straps of leather are hanging loose from it, no doubt securing it onto your head. You stare at the thing and Opettaille, then at the chest with your things. Now might be your last chance to get out of this on your terms... [[Nod to Opettaille. He can lock the chest with your clothes.]] [[Stand up and rush to the chest.|chest scene]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_chest_locked to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0214.png">He looks pleased, and not at all surprised. Slowly, giving you ample time to protest, he kneels down in front of the chest with your belongings. The lid closes, hiding your clothes, your stolen food, and your weapon, from sight. Then, Opettaille takes out a key from his robes, and with a click locks the chest. He pulls the lid as if to make a point, and it won't budge. Satisfied, he places the key into the hidden pockets of his robes and returns to the altar. There, he picks up the iron contraption and approaches you. "The Goddess is pleased with your obedience, Taru. Through Her, you will find answers. Now, sit still." he says, coming to a stop behind you. His robes are brushing against your naked feet, your exposed back and shoulders, as he leans down. You're shaking now, impossibly so. When you glance up, you can see the iron contraption in Opettaille's hands, slowly lowered towards your head. This is it... You're fucked if you accept that thing on your head. You won't see much at all through that. If you let him put that on, you'll be completely in his hands. All you need to do is put your trust in him... [[Accepting your place, you let him secure the contraption onto your head.]] [[You can't do this - Stand up and rush to the chest.|chest scene]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_forced_ceremony to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0217.png">You feel incredibly humiliated and submissive, a strange feeling spreading in your body, when Opettaille lowers the iron contraption over your head. He instructs you to open your mouth and bite down on the metallic bit in the middle. This you do, opening your mouth wide, letting the cool metal rest on your teeth. It tastes rusty to your tongue, effectively gagging you and silencing you in solemn devotion. You're just as blinded as you thought you'd be with this thing on your head. There are tiny vertical slits, and evenly spaced across the front, but they offer only the tiniest glimpse of what's around you. You have to squint, and even then you can only make out general shapes, no details. Behind you, Opettaille closes the device behind your head, locking the metallic cage around your head. Finally, he secures a leather strap under your chin, and another one around your neck, pulling them tight. He finalized the locking of the device on your head with a padlock, the unmistakable sound of a lock turning and clinking into place echoing in your ears. Your breath is fast, uneven, panicked even. You've never been claustrophobic, but this is as close to the feeling as you can imagine getting without losing your mind. "Hhihh ihh heahhhy uhchhohmmffohhhtahbbhleh..." you slur inside the mask, drooling on the metallic bit forced into your mouth. Your words come out unintelligent, impossible to recognize. You slurp the drool back into your mouth, preventing it from falling down your naked breast below. This is a ridiculously devious device indeed... What sort of a religious ceremony could possibly require novices to wear something like this? One aimed to dehumanize them and humiliate them, no doubt... "It fits quite well. Don't worry, it will be removed as soon as the ceremony is completed. Come, let's join the others..." [[Opettaille gently guides your hands behind your back.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0215.png">You scramble to your feet, unable to see things through any further. "I can't do this... This is too much." you tell him. Naked, you approach the chest with your belongings, but Opettaille blocks your path. <<if $ch3_chest_locked is true>>"The key!?" you ask, holding out your hand, urging him to give it to you.<</if>> Opettaille shakes his head. "You have been judged, child. And you have begun the long road towards Her blessing, now. I cannot accept a no from you anymore. Resume your place in the ceremony." His words make your head spin. Is he serious!? He won't let you leave anymore? "This is fucking bullshit, priest! You can't keep me here against my will!" you shout, while your trained eyes are eyeing him, judging his physical form. Without your weapons, he has the upper hand, clearly. He is taller and built like an ox. And without a doubt used to pain too... "I can, and I will. You have begun a sacred path towards the God of Mercy. One does not abandon that path as soon as things become uncomfortable." he says, still standing between you and your chest of belongings. "Resume your place. Kneel. Remember, you are but vermin before Her." His words ring true. You have seen for yourself, the suffocating presence of his God. Anger and confusion flare up within you, as you... [[Give up, kneel down again in the prayer mat.]] [[You need to get out of here - attack him!]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0216.png">Defeated, and broken, you give up. Then, like a dog with its tail between its legs, you turn back and kneel back down on the prayer mat. "We will forget about this little outburst. But do not make a habit out of it..." Opettaille warns. He is once again standing behind you. When you glance up, you can see the iron contraption in his hands again, slowly lowered towards your head. At this moment, you choose to trust him and put yourself into his hands... [[Accepting your place, you let him secure the contraption onto your head.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch3_forced_ceremony to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0219.png">When he doesn't step aside, and it's clear he's not going to let you go, your anger boils over. You're naked, against an opponent much larger than you, but you don't care. He stands in the way of your gear, and so you take a swift step towards him, trying to break his nose with a hard punch. But he is quick, much quicker than you thought. He swats away your arm, throwing you off-balance. Then, his hard fist connects with your stomach, leaving you gasping for air. "Do not insult the Goddess with your insincerity, child. Her path, once taken, must be walked to the end." Opettaille says, striking you again, this time in the head. The impact makes your ears ring, and you topple like a felled tree. The world is spinning, the cool stone floor of the temple greeting your weak knees painfully. Opettaille draws out something from his robes, which you barely take notice of. The buzzing in your ears makes it hard to think, and why is the room suddenly turned on its side? Something foul-smelling assaults your senses, covering your mouth, nose and eyes. Coughing and blinking, you try to crawl away, but your muscles have suddenly stopped responding. Through a thick haze that engulfs you, you hear Opettaille say from a seemingly great distance: "Sleep now. We'll wake you at the ceremony..." [[Darkness consumes you.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0232.png">Eventually, you awaken. There's something in your mouth, a metallic thing gagging you. And you can't see much at all. The thing in your mouth tastes rusty to your tongue, effectively gagging you and silencing you. Whatever is blocking your sight, has tiny vertical slits, and evenly spaced across the front, but they offer only the tiniest glimpse of what's around you. You have to squint, and even then you can only make out general shapes, no details. You realize that you're kneeling, and cannot move an inch. Your arms are tied behind your back, to a wooden pole. And your head is stuck, kept in place onto another wooden pole, this one in front of you. "Ffuhck, gehh mmheh ohuhh ohff hhihh!" you slur inside the mask, drooling on the metallic bit forced into your mouth. Your words come out unintelligent, impossible to recognize. You slurp the drool back into your mouth, preventing it from falling down your naked breast below. This is a ridiculously devious device indeed... What sort of a religious ceremony could possibly require novices to wear something like this? One aimed to dehumanize them and humiliate them, no doubt... When you glance around, you see others just like you. Men and women, tied naked between two wooden poles, kneeling. They too have some sort of iron contraption on their heads. Their hands are bound behind their backs just like yours, tied to one of the wooden poles behind them. And a ring just below their chins are tied to the wooden beams in front of them. In their positions, tied as they are, they cannot move an inch. Just like you cannot. Panic fills your heart, and just then Opettaille appears, his shape barely visible through the slits in your helmet. He leans closer, whispering to you: "Place your trust in the God of Mercy, child. May She deem you worthy." he says, patting you on your shoulder. [[In panic, you watch helplessly as Opettaille abandons you to your fate.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0218.png">Still kneeling on the prayer mat, naked, now with an iron cage as a helmet, you can feel Opettaille's hands gently taking your wrists, guiding your arms behind your back. At this point, the will to fight has left you, and you realize you're completely at the mercy of this priest, and whatever ritual or ceremony will be performed here in the temple tonight. Your only consolidation is that you won't be facing this alone. Instead, you'll be joined by all the other novices of the order. "For this ceremony, you must place your trust in others. A complete surrender of yourself is needed. Hence the helmet. Hence why I am tying your hands behind your back. A servant of Her divine will knows their place in the world. They accept their role submissively, without complaints, without hesitation. You're on a good way of finding Her light." He explains as he wraps a rope around your wrists, forcing them together behind your back. You swallow a feeling of dread that threatens to take hold of your heart when you feel him tying the knot, completing his task. A pull confirms it: You're not escaping these binds easily, especially not on your own. You're acutely aware of the fact that you're completely naked when Opettaille walks up in front of you. He lifts you, helping your balance as you struggle to stand up straight. Your hands behind your back are not making things easier, but the heavy iron cage on your head is the tricky part. Finally, having found your balance, you stand on your own legs. The metallic bit gagging your mouth is making it difficult to breathe, and so you focus all your effort on breathing. "Let's join the others." Opettaille says, doing something to the iron cage just below your chin. Your heart skips a beat when you realize that he just put a leash on you, which he promptly pulls taut, leading you through the dimly lit room. You can't see where you're putting your feet, and so desperately stumble in the dark. Clearly, another test by the God, as you put your trust into Opettaille. Trusting he'll guide you now. The pace you walk is uncomfortable, the constant pulling of the rope on your neck forcing you to keep up with Opettaille. Your bound hands behind your back flail desperately behind you as you try to maintain balance. [[Helplessly follow Opettaille, wherever it is he is leading you...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0233.png">Opettaille leads you, without a word, through the narrow corridors of the temple, down winding stairs at least three floors, and through more narrow corridors. At times you stumble into the walls, regaining your balance only to be forced to catch up with him again or risk being pulled face-down by the leash around your neck and his quick pace. Eventually, you see others in a similar state as you. Men and women, bound with their hands behind their backs, wearing an iron cage on their heads just like you. They too are being pulled by a senior priest wearing robes, pulling a leash bound tightly around their necks. Somehow, you're extremely glad to see them, even though you are in exactly the same predicament as them. Your nakedness doesn't even bother you anymore as your breasts keep bouncing gently against your chest. It is like Opettaille said: The helmet is making you anonymous. The sensation is quite odd indeed. Exposed, yet not. Reduced to something less than yourself, but in doing so, freeing you to become more than yourself. Eventually, the parade of naked women and men stops when you reach a grand hall. You can barely see a thing from the tiny slits in your helmet, but you realize this room is massive. The ceiling is tall, disappearing somewhere above you. But Opettaille doesn't give you a moment to admire the views, limited as they are. He pulls you forward, to your place in the position. There are wooden poles, in pairs, neatly lined on either side of the room. Most of them are empty, but some of them contain a kneeling man or woman, naked like you, cages on their heads. Their hands are still bound behind their backs, now tied to one of the wooden poles behind them. And a ring just below their chins are tied to the wooden beams in front of them. In their positions, tied as they are, they cannot move an inch. And this fate awaits you now, as Opettaille comes to a stop. With the help of another priest, they make you kneel down, despite your weak protests. Then, Opettaille ties your hands into the pole behind you, stretching your arms uncomfortably far back. Drooling and frothing into your bit, you can do nothing as Opettaille takes hold of the iron cage on your head and pulls you forward until the ring below your chin snaps into place. He secures it firmly to the wooden pole in front of you. Then, he leans closer, whispering to you: "Place your trust in the God of Mercy, child. May She deem you worthy." he says, patting you on your shoulder. [[In panic, you watch helplessly as Opettaille abandons you to your fate.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0234.png">Bound, gagged and naked, you await your fate with the rest of the naked men and women in the grand temple's massive ceremonial hall. Your knees are beginning to hurt, but you ignore it, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of what's going on in the room. Soon, a low chanting begins from the gathered priests. Someone's crying uncontrollably to your right. A cloaked and hooded figure appears at the far end of the room, holding a lantern of some sort in front of them. From your tiny slits, you barely make out the make of it. Ethereal fog seems to be seeping from it, clouding the floor around the hooded figure where they walk. The light of the lantern is a sickly blue-green hue, the flashing light erratic. The hooded figure stops before the first naked novice, a man who whimpers in panic when the lantern is raised in front of him. You desperately twist and turn your head, trying to get a better look through the slits in your helmet. A deep voice resonates in the hall, rattling your skull against the metallic cage around your head: "Worthy..." The voice is like the whisper of a dying man. His last breath, yet impossibly loud, like a howling wind. The novice who was being judged passes out, hanging loosely from the wooden poles. The hooded figure moves along, standing before a woman now. She's silent, staring into the lantern as it hovers before her eyes. A moment passes, and the chanting comes to a sudden stop. "Unworthy..." The whisper echoes in the chamber. The novice who was judged thrashes against her restraints, her muffled cries echoing from within her iron cage. The hooded figure moves on to the next naked and bound novice. Panic is filling your chest. What happens to those deemed unworthy? So far, nothing. Worthy and unworthy novices alike, all remain bound, naked, and silenced in the hall. Whatever is judging the novices now sees something in them, something they do not wish to show the world. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You get a terrible feeling that infiltrating their ranks was a monumentally stupid idea. Of course they're going to see right through you and know that you're here pretending!<</if>> [[The hooded figure is judging to man next to you...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0235.png">"Worthy..." The whisper once again echoes, now painfully in your ears. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You recall Piru's warning now: His power does not reach within this temple. Stay out of trouble...<</if>> The smoke from the lantern consumes the floor beneath you, and the hooded figure approaches like he's hovering above the ground rather than walking on it. You glance up, seeing nothing within the hood. And the lantern, now held in front of you, is a grotesque, writhing, eyeball that erratically glances all around the room. You can't help but stare at that eye, the sickly blue and white mass, twisting, shaking. The blue and green light seems to shine from within it, blinding you as you stare at it. The hooded figure raises his lantern, bringing the eye mere inches from your face. From within your cage, you stare at the eye, which has stopped writhing. It pins you, its gaze blinding you to all else as it watches you, staring down right at your soul. Your eyes are tearing up, but you cannot blink, cannot look away. The voice echoes in the chamber... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Unworthy...]]<<else>>[[Worthy...]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0236.png">You have been seen, judged, and found worthy. The eye starts its erratic twisting again, throwing its light across the room in frantic patterns as the hooded figure moves on to the final novices in the room. Worthy... You can feel the approving gaze of Opettaille even from across the room. The eye saw you. It knew what you were here for... To truly seek help. The same cannot be said for at least three of the other novices, who have been judged unworthy. [[The hooded figure finishes their round.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0237.png">You have been seen, judged, and found wanting. You wonder what they deemed unworthy in you, but you have a strong feeling that being Piru's assassin somehow tipped the scales against you... The eye starts its erratic twisting again, throwing its light across the room in frantic patterns as the hooded figure moves on to the final novices in the room. Unworthy... You can feel the bitter gaze of Opettaille even from across the room. The eye saw you. It knew what you were here for... You're crying inside the mask, thrashing against your restraints. And you're not alone. At least three other novices have been judged unworthy. [[The hooded figure finishes their round.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0238.png">"Instructors, prepare your novices." The figure in the hooded cloak says. The chanting stops, and the priests return to the novices they took into the chamber. Opettaille finds his way to you, standing in front of you, silent. His expression reveals nothing. Then, all around the room, the priests pull something out of their robes in unison. From the slits in your eyes, you cannot see what it is. Then, the sound of rusty metal hinges opening echoes all around you. Opettaille does something with your mask, around your eyes, and suddenly you can see clearly again. The slits have been pulled aside, allowing you to finally see clearly. A glance around the room reveals that all novices have been given this treatment. Some gasp with relief, and some remain silent in fear. "May Her light shine upon them." The hooded priest says from the far end. In front of you, Opetaille adds: "May Her light shine upon you..." Then, in unison, the priests raise whatever they had hidden in their robes. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>"Trust me." he adds softly.<</if>> In shock and disbelief, you stare at the thing in his hand. It looks like a wide fork, with two blades. He lifts it up to your eyes. In horror, you realize what he's doing. You scream and thrash, trying to escape, but your bindings keep you immobile. Around you, terrified screams ring out, followed by shouts of pain. Then it is your turn to scream, when Opettaille pierces both of your eyes with the fork, shoving the blades violently into your skull. The last thing you remember is the sound of your eyeballs popping and a terrible pain overwhelming your very being... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[You awaken...|Awaken abandoned.]]<<else>>[[You awaken...|Awaken church.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_very_calm_sleep">> <<set $ch3_discarded_by_temple to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0252.png">Somehow, this was not your end. When you awaken, you do so with a splitting headache. And you're unable to see a thing. How are you still alive!? And where are you!? Your eyes feel like they're burning. Panic surges through you, heart pounding in your chest. You reach out instinctively, but your hands grasp only empty air. The realization hits you again: Your eyes are gone. Opettaille. The name burns in your mind, and anger flares. You remember the ceremony, his hands holding the blade, the searing pain as he stabbed you in the eyes. Why did he do this? The fear mingles with your confusion and rage. How could he justify such cruelty? "Good, you're awake. How are you feeling?" The soft voice of Opettaille asks near you. Your mind is a fog, but you can tell you're lying on your back in a bed. And Opettaille is sitting next to you. Suddenly, you're fuming with anger. "Opettaille, you two-faced sack of shit! What... What the hell happened!? I can't see a fucking thing! I'm blind!" you scream into the room, flailing with your hand until you find Opettaille's robes. "You've lost your sigh, for now, this is true. But our Lady always restores the sight to those who embrace her." he says, taking your hands into his. Hysterically, you begin to sob, but there are no tears. Opettaille wraps his arms around you in an attempt to comfort you. "There, there. Hush, child. Pray to our Lady. You were deemed worthy of Her grace, and so it is only a matter of time before your sight will be restored. Trust in Her." He says, calmly hugging you as you lose yourself in a fit of panic. Trusting these priests was the worst idea you've had in a very long time indeed... [["But... Why? Why did you do this to me!?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <<set $ch3_discarded_by_temple to true>> <<set $ch3_goddess_eyes to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0239.png">Somehow, this was not your end. When you awaken, you do so with a splitting headache. And you're unable to see a thing. How are you still alive!? And where are you!? Your eyes feel like they're burning. Panic surges through you, heart pounding in your chest. You reach out instinctively, but your hands grasp only empty air. The realization hits you again: Your eyes are gone. Opettaille. The name burns in your mind, and anger flares. You remember the ceremony, his hands holding the blade, the searing pain as he stabbed you in the eyes. Why did he do this? The fear mingles with your confusion and rage. How could he justify such cruelty? "Did I not advise you to avoid trouble, hmm?" Piru's familiar voice muses from somewhere around you. "Piru? What... What the hell happened!? I can't see a fucking thing! I'm blind!" you demand, shouting into the room. "Oh, cry me a river. Oh wait, that's quite difficult without eyes, isn't it? Just relax and let my realm heal your sight." he says. His realm? Yeah, he did mention his realm heals all wounds... "What happened? Did they... Kill me?" you ask, unsure what to think. You realize you're lying in a bed, with all your clothes on. And your equipment, as well as your belt. Even the infernal bone dagger is with you. When you extend your hand into the darkness, you feel the stolen bag of food. "Do you feel dead? No, don't answer that. No, they didn't kill you. They simply blinded you, along with other novices deemed unworthy. Then they discarded you. Like garbage. In truth, it seems they did not want to kill you. Merely punish you. They did, after all, give you back all your belongings." Piru reveals, yawning dramatically. "So, you failed your mission, yes? Opettaille still lives, and you are out of their favor?" You choose to answer his questions with silence. "Very well. But next time, a bit more diligence, perhaps?" He muses. "Rest now. Let my realm heal you..." he adds. Suddenly, you feel heavy, like someone's pulling you down into the soft sheets below. In an instant, you fall asleep. [[Let Piru's realm heal you.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0240.png">You awaken an unknown amount of time later. The pain is gone and you can see again, but the memory of it all still haunts you. Piru's infernal realm truly does heal all physical wounds... "Well, well! Look at you, already on the mend." Piru muses, sitting at the table of food. You're not sure if you should thank him or curse him. The memory of losing your sight cannot be erased from your mind. But he did save your life... "Let this little interference of mine be a singular occurrence, dear Taru. Now, you've overstayed your welcome. It is time for you to return to your realm." he then says, and before you can protest, he conjures a portal beneath you. [[The portal consumes you.|portal 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0250.png">You fall, landing on the cobblestone of the Divine District, confused and disoriented. You're in a dark alley. A man is lying down on the ground, his face resting in a pool of blood. You approach, carefully nudging him. Dead. Eyes poked out. The sight of it reminds you of your own pain, and you blink in confusion, trying to dispel the feeling. Then you scramble to your feet, pick up your grappling hook and without missing a beat throw it to the roof above you and begin your swift climb. Soon, you're back on the rooftops of Valkama. Well, the priests now know to look out for you. And your motivation for killing them just became personal. But how to reach them now is going to be a mystery... Right now, you still do not have a lead on where your gang is. But Einar promised he'd meet you tomorrow in the evening, at the Rustic Fork Inn. For now, you might want to explore other avenues. For example, the voice who spoke to you in your dreams might have something interesting to say about your connection to The Fathomless Hunger. Follow the void inside of you, he'd said. Well, you sure can't hear a peep from any abyss, that's damned sure. But he did mention the Inner City Gardens. [[Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking the man who talked to you in your dreams.|Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking answers elsewhere.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0253.png">"Why did you do this to me?" you demand, your voice trembling with a mix of rage and despair. "How could you!?" You sit on the bed, wearing robes of some description. Anger, fear, and confusion churn within you. The pain from your blinded eyes throbs in rhythm with your heartbeat. Opettaille, calm and collected, stands before you, his voice a steady, soothing presence. Opettaille remains unperturbed, his tone gentle as he begins his explanation. "Taru, I understand your pain and confusion. But this trial is not meant to punish. It is meant to elevate you. The God of Mercy requires you to see the world through Her eyes." "How is blinding me supposed to help?" you snap, unable to hide the bitterness in your voice. "This is cruelty, not mercy." "There is more to sight than what our eyes perceive." Opettaille responds, his presence a steady anchor. "Your blindness is a blessing. Symbolic: Representing the blindness of humanity. It is also literal, for you may believe that you've seen and understood the world before. But only through Her mercy can humanity, and you, truly see." You clench your fists, feeling helpless and lost. "And what if I don't want this 'blessing'? What if I just want my sight back?" "My God has already deemed you worthy, child." Opettaille says softly, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. "This blindness is temporary, a step in your journey to be cleansed by her. Very soon, she will rebirth your sight, letting you see the world as She sees it." You take a shaky breath, trying to process his words. "So, this pain.. it's all part of Her divine plan?" "Yes." Opettaille affirms, his voice unwavering. "Embrace the darkness, Taru. Let the God of Mercy transform you in Her image. Trust in Her mercy. Your suffering will not be in vain." Despite your anger and fear, a small flicker of hope ignites within you. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is truth in Opettaille's words. Do you have any other choice but to trust him, and his God? You nod slowly, still frightened, then ask: [["How long was I out? And where's my gear?"]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0254.png">"Just barely an hour. Your belongings are right here in a chest." he answers, his tone soothing. "Your body needs more rest, still." Instinctively, you bring your hands to your face. Bandages are wrapped around your head, over the terrible wounds where your eyes used to be. Slowly, you nod, trying to piece together the fragments of your memory. A question holds your mind: "What about the others? Were all the other novices also blinded?" Opettaile sighs softly. "They are undergoing their own trials. Those deemed worthy are being taken care of, just like you. The unworthy ones have proven themselves beyond redemption. Rather than killing them on the spot, like the vermin all humans are, She mercifully blesses them with the gift of the rest of their lives. She only demands their sight." His words raise the hairs on the back of your neck. You ask another burning question: "And the eye... the blue-green writhing eye inside the lantern?" you ask, shuddering at the memory. "What was that?" Opettaile's hand finds yours, his touch warm and steady. "That was the Eye of the first Elder of our order, Ilmarin. It sees through to the very essence of one's soul. It judged you, Taru, and found you worthy." A shiver runs down your spine at his words. "It felt like it was peering into my very soul." you admit. "It was." he confirms, his voice low and intimate. "But it was not to harm you. It was to understand you, to see your true self." You fall silent, contemplating his words. The weight of the experience still lingers, a mix of awe and fear. "Here." Opettaile says softly, breaking the silence. "You must be hungry." [[You hear the soft clink of a spoon against a bowl.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0255.png">Then the scent of warm porridge fills the air. Opettaile gently lifts a spoonful to your lips. You accept it gratefully, the warmth and simplicity of the meal bringing a small comfort. As you eat, he continues to talk, his voice a soothing balm. "You have shown great strength, child. The God has seen your heart, and wants to rid the world of twin evils that have possessed you." Opettaille brings the spoon to your lips, and you accept it, chewing down on the plain porridge offered. After a few spoons, you ask with a voice barely above a whisper: "Will I really get my sight back?" Opettaille offers you another spoonful while he answers. "Yes." he replies with certainty. "The God of Mercy will restore your sight. You have earned that blessing. We will pray for Her blessing soon, together." He concludes. When he feeds you another spoonful of porridge, his movements are careful and attentive. There is a quiet intimacy of sorts in the act, a connection that goes beyond words. You're unsure if you're grateful or angry. He did leave out details about the ceremony, then literally gouged your eyes out in an attempt to bring you closer to his God... For that, you cannot forgive him. But on the other hand, he promises it is a temporary and necessary step towards his God. If you wish to seek aid from this cruel, and supposedly merciful, God then this is surely the path you must walk. The turmoil of thoughts batters your head. Maybe the God of Mercy is not the only one who can heal your sight. Maybe Piru's infernal realm, with its healing magics, could do the same? Eventually, you... [[Tell him you're thankful that he's here.]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>[[Angry, tell him you do not wish to stay here any longer.|Tell him you do not wish to stay here any longer.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0257.png">It takes you quite a while to put on your armor. When you finally slide the bone dagger into your belt and pick up your bag, you feel like your old self. Except the blindness, of course. You stumble in a random direction, hitting your knees on chairs and chests. "Is this truly the path you would choose, after coming so far?" Opettaille asks, appearing once again by your side. "Yes. My decision is final, and my own. I want nothing to do with you or your God." you tell him, defiantly. "Very well. Follow me... I'll lead you out of here..." he says, extending his hand. You swat it away, choosing to simply follow the sound of his footsteps. Without a word, he turns and walks away. In the darkness, you follow him, hands flailing in front of you. A while later you can smell the fresh air of the gardens. Opettaille leads you through them, back onto the streets of the Divine District. "There. I wish you good luck on whatever path you choose, child. Remember, the God of Mercy has accepted you. You need only turn to Her light and she will show her mercy." Opettaille says. Fuck him. Fuck his temple. And fuck his God. Without a word, you stumble onto the streets in your darkness. When you've reached a sufficiently long distance from the temple, according to your blind estimate, you stop. Then, you whisper into the busy streets: [["Piru... Now would be a good time to show the gifts of your patronage."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0258.png">The mocking laugh of the archdemon that you've pledged yourself to fills your ears: "Ah, Taru, there you are! I was beginning to wonder about your whereabouts. A visit to the God of Mercy, was it? How did you find her particular brand of mercy, hmm?" You decide to ignore his comments. "They blinded me, Piru. Can you do something about it? Fix it?" If he can't, your only option is to crawl back into the temple, begging for a second chance... Piru sighs. "I suppose... But I do have my demands in return. You know precisely what it is, don't you?" he reveals. And indeed you do. He wants you to accept the second half of his deal. To become his assassin. "Will you help me with my sight... And help me get rid of The Fathomless Hunger's hold over my soul...?" you ask with a whisper, unsure if the citizens of Valkama walking around you are paying attention to you or not... "For my sweet concubine... Yes, I accept the deal. Now, you'd best find somewhere less... public. Just keep on walking to your right, there's an alley waiting for you." Piru comments. Right. [[Without hesitation, you follow Piru's guiding voice to the alley.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal to true>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0241.png">The familiar smell of burning flesh assaults your nose when you reach your destination. Then, you're falling, landing softly on Piru's bed in his infernal realm. "Oh my, Taru, you look like shit. Doesn't it just make you want to cry? Oh wait, that's quite difficult without eyes, isn't it? Well then. Just relax and let my realm heal your sight. But first, the contract... Remove your shirt." Piru mocks you from somewhere in the room. "Fine, let's get this over with..." you mutter, stumbling out of the bed in complete darkness. Then you submissively take off your shirt before your master. "Kneel before your master, concubine." Piru demands. You're unable to refuse him, and so you find yourself down on your knees before your demon master, your naked back exposed. The binding words will be written there, again, no doubt, by that infernal quill... "Repeat the binding words, Taru." He instructs, then begins: "I, Taru Nopsa, pledge my blade to Piru, to slay the two priests of The Merciful God." Once again you find yourself caught between the magic of a mortal and a demon. It is more powerful than your will. The words of power and the spoken agreement you've made with him thus far compel you to open your mouth and... [[Repeat his words.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0244.png">A divine miracle indeed! Slowly, you open your newly born eyes. The dimly lit room feels impossibly bright, and you blink in confusion, glancing around the room. Opettaille is kneeling down next to you, in thoughtful meditation. You're in a sleeping quarter of some kind, with a few beds placed around the room. Shelves with books and scrolls line the walls here too. A fire is burning in the far end of the room, but watching it is too painful. With your hands over your eyes, you continue scanning the room. A chest, the same where you put your equipment and belongings, sits next to one of the beds. Opettaille stirs awake. "Ah, I'm glad you've taken Her into you, child." he says. The feeling of having your sight back overwhelms you with joy. But you feel changed too. Like you've signed a wordless pact, not unlike the one you did with Piru, to the God of Mercy. And Opettaille looks different, somehow. Like a figure of authority now, like someone you have to and want to listen to and obey. "How do you feel?" He asks, a concerned furrow on his brow. "I feel... I..." You ponder what it is you're feeling. [[Relief.|continue quarter discussion]] [[Joy.|continue quarter discussion]] [[Sadness.|continue quarter discussion]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0245.png">You explain your feelings to Opettaille. "Understandable, given the circumstances. Frankly, you seem to be taking all of this remarkably well." he says. The two of you are still kneeling on the prayer mats, quite close... "What... What happens now?" you find yourself asking, your voice trembling. The nearness of Opettaille, and being able to see him, sends mixed signals throughout your body. Like you're a moth, drawn to a flame, but you know you'll get burned if you get too close. It's like you're watching him with new eyes. Which, you suppose, is quite literally the case. "You've made significant progress on your journey towards Her light. Just today, you've reached a level of devotion seen in novices who have been here for weeks." Opettaille muses and stands up. He offers his hand to you, and you accept it, letting him pull you up. "But the Goddess can only give so much, in such a short time. Find me later, when you are ready, and we will see how selfless you can be. She will be expecting complete obedience when we next meet. Remember this... Novice." The last title he says with a tiny smile on his lips, then he opens the contents of the chest on the floor, revealing your belongings. "You'd do best to discard that cursed artifact." He comments, no doubt referring to the bone dagger. You glance down into the chest. There's your bag of food, your armor, your tools, and the dagger... "I uh... I can't. Now while the archdemon has a hold on me..." you admit. Opettaille scoffs. "Very well... Since you have chosen to walk the path of light, we must accept it. Everyone walks on a different journey, even though the destination is the same. I'll leave you to it..." [[Opettaille leave you alone in the room to get dressed.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0246.png">When you discard the robes and put on your armor, you feel whole again. Like your old self. But something within you has changed, forever. For better or for worse, only time will tell. Soon, Opettaille returns, just as you finish sheathing the dagger into your belt and throw the stolen bag with food over your shoulder. "Walk with me. I'll guide you to the gardens." he says, waving for you to follow. The two of you walk through familiar narrow corridors, the memory of you walking through them with an iron cage over your head forever etched into your mind. "That ceremony... Have you taken it, too?" you find yourself asking. In front of you, Opettaille doesn't slow down, but answers over his shoulder: "Every priest in the temple has passed that trial. And those above the rank of novice, many more besides." The ceremony, or ritual, was barbaric by any standards. Yet, having gone through it and now seeing the other side, you can't help but feel reborn in a strange way. And not just because you can see again. The experience has left a permanent mark on you... Soon, you reach the gardens. The sun is still high in the sky, revealing to you that all that you just experienced took less than a few hours. How strange, to think about the person you were this morning, compared to who you are now. Will this experience change who you are? Are you no longer Taru, the wanted criminal? [[Of course you are. That has not changed.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0247.png">As you walk through the well-kept garden, you find yourself asking Opettaille: "What does the God of Mercy say about stealing? And murder..?" For a moment, he doesn't respond. Then, when you reach the edge of the garden and see the streets of Valkama again, he says: "Now that you walk in her light, you are amongst her chosen. Remember that She sees all humanity as vermin. A vermin stealing for another vermin is still a vermin. The same applies for murder. As long as the vermin you're stealing from and murdering aren't Her servants, she will not care." Huh. That is not the answer you expected to hear. "I see... That is, odd, is it not?" you ask, confused. But the priest simply shrugs. "When you lay bare your soul, exposing yourself to Her grace, you ascend above the mortal filth of the world. The law of man is nothing in Her eyes, once you've accepted Her light." You wonder what the ruling class of Jaerwik would have to say about that... But what about the rest of the population of Valkama? Most people, as far as you understand, worship the God of Mercy. "But doesn't that lead to chaos... Anarchy? If the law of man does not apply to worshippers of the God of Mercy...?" Opettaille nods at your good question, but then shakes his head. "The vast majority of Her worshippers do so out of fear. They have not been blessed, and likely never will be. Only a select few truly enjoy Her boon. Like me. Like you." he explains. Well, that all sounds like an awfully convenient way of looking at the world. They see them as being above everyone else, or so it seems. You choose not to argue the point further. If he says it's alright, then it's alright. The old Taru does not have to change too dramatically to be embraced by the God of Mercy, it seems. [[Bid Opettaille farewell, for now.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0248.png">"Thank you for showing me the way to Her light." You say, sincerely, to Opettaille. He bows his head and folds his hands into his robes. "We will explore your limits together, when you feel ready. I encourage you to research The Abyss and the Archdemons, just like I will. Knowledge is power, after all. Until next time, novice." With those words, he leaves you, walking back to the temple through the lush gardens. It feels surreal, standing once again on the cobblestone streets of the Divine District. You're still a wanted criminal, and that group of guards over there isn't looking too friendly. They aren't paying attention to you, for now, but you are not going to take any chances. Disappearing into the crowd, you make your way towards a dark alley at the far end. There, you disappear around the corner, leaving the guards and the crowd behind. Grappling hook in hand, you're about to begin your ascend to the rooftops again, when you stop in your tracks. A man is lying down on the ground, his face resting in a pool of blood. You approach, carefully nudging him. Dead. Eyes poked out. Fucking hell... Was this one of the other novices? One deemed unworthy? You shudder at the thought, distancing yourself from the corpse in disgust. The temple of the God of Mercy is a ruthless organization indeed. Almost like a criminal gang, except instead of ruling from the shadows, they rule in broad daylight. The blessing of the God of Mercy doesn't feel as warm anymore, now that you see the trail of blood in Her worship leaves behind. As bad as all the rest of the cults and religions, then? Confused, unsure what to think, you return to the task at hand. You throw your grappling hook to the roof above you and begin your swift climb. Soon, you're back on the rooftops of Valkama. Well... Opettaille certainly had a lot of interesting things to say. And he promised he'd help you with both your problems, abyss and demon alike. Right now, you still do not have a lead on where your gang is. But Einar promised he'd meet you tomorrow in the evening, at the Rustic Fork Inn. For now, you might want to explore other avenues. For example, the voice who spoke to you in your dreams might have something interesting to say about your connection to The Fathomless Hunger. Follow the void inside of you, he'd said. Well, you sure can't hear a peep from any abyss, that's damned sure. But he did mention the Inner City Gardens. [[Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking the man who talked to you in your dreams.|Head over to the Inner City Gardens, seeking answers elsewhere.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0223.png">"Fear not, you'll be fine in a moment..." he says, dismissing your pain. In panic, you stare at him, unable to move, unable to speak. You're lying on your back, and the back of your head feels oddly soft and wet. You cough up blood, choking, trying to ask him what happened. And luckily, he seems to understand you or predict your thoughts. "Your grand and dramatic escape from the church, it seems, took quite the literal plunge. If not for my timely interference, your brains would be painting the streets of Valkama right now." he begins. "As it stands, your brains made an absolute mess in my bedroom instead. Quite a sight, indeed!" Your... Brain? A tiny turn of your head reveals the truth of his words. Your head feels like a cracked egg, its contents smeared in a mush beneath you. "But as I mentioned, you'll be fine shortly. Relax, savor the sensation. Few mortals have the privilege to experience what you're going through now." Piru smiles down at you. "Consider my intervention a reward for dispatching Opettaille. And the fact that you're lying there with every bone in your body shattered, well, that's your punishment for not securing his trust. Reaching the elder will be quite the challenge now." He shrugs. "And before you dare ask: No, I did not do this to you. I merely conjured a portal beneath you as you fell. Gravity and momentum, those are the true culprits here." As he says it, he waves his hand in the general direction of your broken body. Then, he kneels down, lifting your head up just a tiny bit. You can feel him pushing something inside of your skull. Your brain, you realize... In horror, you simply lie there as Piru nudges the healing along just a tiny bit, then puts you back down on your back. From the corner of your eyes, you can see him sitting down at a table full of food, where he grabs a glass and a carafe. [[The sound of wine being poured into a glass is the last thing you remember before passing out...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0225.png">"If only there were something I could do..." he says, an apologetic look on his face. In panic, you stare at him, unable to move, unable to speak. You're lying on your back, and the back of your head feels oddly soft and wet. You cough up blood, choking, trying to ask him what happened. And luckily, he seems to understand you or predict your thoughts. "Your grand and dramatic escape from the church, it seems, took quite the literal plunge. If not for my timely interference, your brains would be painting the streets of Valkama right now." he begins. "As it stands, your brains made an absolute mess in my bedroom instead. Quite a sight, indeed!" Your... Brain? A tiny turn of your head reveals the truth of his words. Your head feels like a cracked egg, its contents smeared in a mush beneath you. Piru shrugs. "And before you dare ask: No, I did not do this to you. I merely conjured a portal beneath you as you fell. Gravity and momentum, those are the true culprits here." As he says it, he waves his hand in the general direction of your broken body. "A very sloppy escape for a supposed experienced assassin. I would hardly offer praise for your performance." Piru continues. "Still, I still need you. So rather than send you back to your mortal realm and have to bleed to death, I will offer you a deal. The same as before. Become my concubine, and I will let my realm heal you. Refuse, and I send you back to die in the streets of Valkama. Like a common thug." When he says the words, he smiles, then kneels down. "To sweeten the deal, I'll even help you get rid of that parasite attached to your soul, when I deem the time is right. A most generous offer, wouldn't you say? Nod if you understand what I'm saying." You do understand his words... And somehow you're not surprised that Piru would try to force a deeper pledge on you. It is in the very nature of archdemons, after all... [[Nod - you understand, but do not approve...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0226.png">Piru's smile grows wider. "Good. Excellent, even." His damned skeletal finger-quill appears out of nowhere, along with a floating piece of a bloody parchment made from skin. You gurgle in protest, spilling what feels like buckets of blood on the obsidian floor of Piru's bedroom. "I'll take your enthusiastic eruption to mean you accept the deal. It's do or die, dear Taru. How can you refuse such an offer?" The quill trembles with anticipation. It's then you notice another quill, floating near you, waiting to carve your flesh with the binding words. "My realm should've healed your lungs and throat momentarily. Once you can speak, repeat the binding words: I, Taru Nopsa, pledge that I will pleasure her master, Piru, whenever he wants, in any way he wants, within the limitations and boundaries agreed upon in our original pact." Then he waits for you to stop coughing up blood, as the room seems to grow darker, oppressing around you. A while later, you no longer cough up blood when you open your mouth. Then, with a soft whisper you test your voice. It's hoarse, and silent, but you can speak. With a final push, you... [[Repeat the words of power.]] [[Tell the demon to go to hell...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0228.png">Defiant, you tell the demon to go to hell. You did not accept his deal then, and will not accept his deal now. With the last strength in your body spent, you feel consciousness fading. Piru's disappointed look is the last thing you see before a portal consumes you. Then you're back on the streets of Valkama, lying down on the cobblestones on your back, staring up at a bewildered crowd of people who distance themselves from you. Yeah, you'd be shocked too if a bleeding and broken corpse-to-be would appear in front of you in the streets. At that moment, you feel the last of your life leaving your bones, your soul floating free from your body. An observer now, you witness your broken body surrounded by a growing crowd of people. Then you feel it. A malicious presence. And an impatient tug. Your soul, the very essence that is you, no longer floats freely. The binding takes hold of you, and you're pulled down violently, a chill gripping the fragments that are left of you. In an instant, you surge through the streets, the very earth, until only darkness remains. Into the abyss, far below. The cry of a thousand souls greets you and you feel a gnawing at your being. Something is consuming you, eating your soul, slowly, sucking on the juicy bits with careful thought. And in panic, you realize it has an eternity to complete its task, and it enjoys every second of it. Your soul screams in agony as it joins the cacophony of a thousand other crying souls... <h4>Ending 2: Crushed to death.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending 4 reverse]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/3-0225.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... "To sweeten the deal, I'll even help you get rid of that parasite attached to your soul, when I deem the time is right. A most generous offer, wouldn't you say? Nod if you understand what I'm saying." You do understand his words... And somehow you're not surprised that Piru would try to force a deeper pledge on you. It is in the very nature of archdemons, after all... [[Nod - you understand, but do not approve...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDENS_ABOVE.png">Three hours later, you arrive in the darkness of the clouds, overlooking the gardens below from an adjacent rooftop. You find yourself perched on the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the exotic garden sprawling below. The garden is massive, stretching a kilometer in all directions, a patchwork of vibrant colors and intricate designs. From this vantage point, you can see the winding paths cutting through lush greenery, dotted with rare and beautiful flowers that bloom in hues of red, gold, and purple. Tall, slender trees with silver bark stand sentry around the garden's perimeter, their branches forming a delicate canopy that sways gently in the breeze. Interspersed among them are statues of mythical creatures, their stone faces weathered but still exuding an air of ancient majesty. [[Observe the gardens for a moment.|Chapter 4 start]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_see_king to false>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <<set $ch4_dead_tryton to false>> <<set $ch4_kill_prisoners to false>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to 0>> <<set $ch4_woman_name to "Prisoner">> <<set $ch4_cold_taru to false>> <<set $ch4_knock_out_deal to false>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to false>> <<set $ch4_fucked_by_tryton to false>> <<set $ch4_tryton_helps_with_piru to false>> <<set $ch4_mother_not_in_abyss to false>> <<if ndef $QIDSoulRelease_t6>> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t6 to "Find out what Tryton knows about The Fathomless Hunger.">> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDSoulRelease_t7>> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t7 to "Learn to dominate The Abyss with Tryton, when you are ready.">> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDDemonPledge_t7>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t7 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Opettaille.">> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDDemonPledge_t8>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t8 to "Find a way to break the pledge with the help of Tryton.">> <</if>> <<set $QIDSoulRelease_t4 to "A man called Tryton visited your dreams. His soul is tied to The Fathomless Hunger too. Maybe you should pay him a visit?">> <<addQuestTaskFunction $QIDSoulRelease "t4" $QIDSoulRelease_t4>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDENS_ABOVE.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 4 - The Doom Clock</h4>Somewhere within this garden is a path to the voice that spoke to you in your dream. The one claiming to hold answers about The Abyss that has taken root within you, like a cancer on your soul. As you observe the gardens in the darkness of the clouds, you notice it is less busy than you thought. Perhaps the elite of Valkama have been scared away by the gathered clouds? Typical... Those pompous asses probably think they're made of sugar, who will melt at the first touch of a bit of rain. Well, it's better this way. Less eyes means less risk of being recognized, or discovered. You scan the nearby area. A particularly large tree, gnarly like an old man, is leaning precariously over the streets just a few rooftops away to your right. The gap between the roof and the tree branches is too far to jump, but it's perfect for your grappling hook. A moment later, you arrive at the rooftop opposite of the tree. Then, with practiced ease, you throw your grappling hook, firmly attaching it to one of the thick tree branches. A glance down ensures you that no one is watching you. Without hesitating, you swing from the rope, aiming for another branch just below the one where your grappling hook is secured. You make it, and loosen your hook, placing it back into your belt. Right. Time to climb down, and see if 'the void inside you' leads to the right place... [[Climb down and enter the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDENS_ABOVE.png">As soon as you start climbing down, you notice a change in the climate. It's warmer, damper, completely different from the colder dry air of Valkama. The warmth sits like a blanket over The Inner Garden. You grasp the rough bark of the tree, feeling the gnarled knots and twisted branches beneath your fingers. The tree is ancient and ugly, its trunk thick and distorted, covered in patches of moss and lichen that give it a sickly green hue. Each branch juts out at odd angles, some splintered and broken, others curling in unnatural, almost menacing twists. As you begin your descent, the bark scrapes against your palms, leaving tiny abrasions that sting with each movement. The tree's limbs creak and groan under your weight, their jagged ends like skeletal fingers reaching out to snare you. You carefully navigate the maze of branches, your feet finding precarious footholds on the knobby protrusions that mar the trunk. Finally, your feet touch the ground, and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. The tree looms above you, a twisted sentinel in the shadows, its grotesque form etched into your memory as you move away, seeking the cover of the undergrowth. As far as you can tell, The Inner Garden looks empty. This is good. But nothing stirs within you to give you a direction. So much for following the void within you. At random, you pick a direction, keeping your eyes and ears open for trouble. And of course, it starts to rain... As you sneak through the maze of the garden, the rainwater trickles down the intricate network of vines and branches, dripping from leaf to leaf with a soft, intermittent plink. The moisture gathers into tiny rivulets that stream down the twisted trunks of trees, producing a faint, continuous murmur as they seep into the rich, loamy soil. All around you are exotic plants you've never seen. A plant seems to be choked by another plant that twists and writhes with serpentine grace, its translucent tendrils shimmering like liquid glass under the moonlight. Its flowers, iridescent and pulsating with an inner glow, release a hypnotic fragrance that almost lures you in. Next to them, a third tree stands tall and imposing, with thick, dark green leaves that curl inward like the claws of a predator. Its large, blood-red blossoms drip with a viscous, luminescent nectar, casting eerie crimson shadows in the fading light. Suddenly, you hear something ahead, startling you. [[Take cover!]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDEN_PATH.png">You don't know who's up ahead, and so without taking any risks, you disappear into the undergrowth, seeking shelter beneath a tree with small fruits that look like apples. Two men, clad in heavy armor hammered by raindrops, slowly walk past you. There's an unmistakable rattle of chainmail beneath their armor. Risking a peek, you glance up from the undergrowth, but the rain obscures your vision. When the soldiers are almost past you, you finally recognize them, and panic takes a grip on your heart. Shit! Blasted, infernal, abyssal pits! Royal - fucking - guards! Instinct takes over. With your heart pounding in your chest, you huddle down, frozen like a statue in the undergrowth. The royal guards, elite soldiers all, are usually only seen in the palace or... Your eyes grow wide as you realize the other possibility... Royal events. Fuck! If they're here in the garden, it means royalty is here in the garden. That explains the lack of people here, not the dark clouds and rain. A private royal event in the gardens? Has to be! [[By Piru's infernal balls, what the hell did you walk into!?]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDEN_PATH.png">The guards are walking along the trail, almost adjacent to your hiding place. You do not dare to move a muscle as you crouch down, hugging the soil, hiding in the bushes. It is now you notice a strange stinging sensation on your ears, your scalp, and your exposed hands. A moment later you realize that each droplet of rain that lands on your exposed skin causes irritation. Soon, they feel like a searing brand, causing intense burning and blistering where they make contact. The tree above you sheds its sap on you, mixed with raindrops. An exotic death trap, toxic to your skin! The pain is excruciating, but you dare not move, for the faintest sound might alert the royal guards patrolling nearby. Can't they walk faster!? As you lie there frozen in place, the rain continues unabated, the deadly sap of the unknown tree's bark soaking into your clothes, further intensifying your agony. Every second feels like an eternity as you endure the torment, your breath shallow and your mind racing with the desperate hope that the guards will pass by without detecting your presence. The tree looms above you like a sentinel of doom, its ominous presence magnified by the relentless pain it inflicts. You grit your teeth against the pain, praying for the rain to cease and the guards to move on, while the malevolent tree's toxic essence continues its cruel assault on your skin. [[Finally, the guards disappear...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDEN_PATH.png">You're shaking from pain, gasping in the bushes, by the time the guards finally disappear. Frantically, you dash out of the undergrowth onto the trail as far away from the toxic tree as possible. In your mad dash, you seek new cover, finding it behind a stone structure surrounded by walls. No more exotic plants for you, thank you very much... But as you crouch there catching your breath, you realize that the sap has sunk deep inside your clothes, still burning you. Only one thought enters your mind in panic: Escape the pain at all costs. And so, in the warm inner garden in the downpour of rain, you strip yourself of all your clothes as fast as you can. Finally, standing naked in the rain, you see the damage. Red blisters cover your body, worst at your shoulders and arms, anything that was facing up towards the tree while you were hiding. You quickly place your clothes in optimal soaking positions for the rain to wash them clean. Then, a moment of bliss takes hold of you as you stand there, letting the cool, completely regular Valkama rain wash you and your clothes clean from the toxic sap. After a moment, you open your eyes, suddenly thinking clearly again. You're standing naked here in the Inner City Gardens, patrolled by palace guards. A wanted criminal everywhere, and a trespasser in the gardens while the royalty is hosting some sort of event here. Why else would the gardens be so empty? If you're found, there will be no trial. They'll likely kill you on the spot for eavesdropping. So, don't get caught. So far, the garden is making it anything but easy for you. [[Put your clothes back on...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDEN_PATH.png">Well, enough standing about with your butt on display. Your soaking wet clothes have surely been thoroughly washed by now. With that in mind, you promptly grab your belongings, squeeze most of the water off all your clothes, and put them back on. Normally, you'd be shivering from the cool Valkama rain, even in the summer. But here in the gardens, you're not. It is as if a spell has been cast here, artificially warming the gardens. That sure explains all the exotic, and deadly, plants. But who could cast such a spell? Surely no mortal could do that? Granted, your arcane knowledge is limited at best. It is then you feel it. A faint... Pull. Of sorts. It's coming from within you, like a friendly nudge, encouraging you deeper into the gardens. At first, you think you're having a seizure from the toxic sap. But when the feeling persists, not hurting, not dangerous, you realize it must be the pull of the void the man in your dream talked about, quite literally. Well, at least you know where to go now. With your damp clothes and gear back on, you head out into the gardens again, this time determined to stay clear of potentially lethal flora. [[Follow the pull.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_see_king to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">Guard patrols are easy enough to avoid, as you hear the raindrops falling on their heavy armor and helmets from far away. Still, your progress through the garden is slow, partially because every tree looks like it's out to get you. Eventually, you arrive in a clearing where a massive tent has been raised, keeping the gathered party cozily dry in the pouring rain. The pull of the void is drawing you straight, right into the thick of the gathered crowd and guards. No fucking way you're going in there, that'd be suicide. Instead, you crouch in the nearby undergrowth, praying to all the Gods, infernal archdemons, and abyssal entities that you aren't sitting in or under another venomous plant. While you wait, you observe the gathered party. At least a dozen palace guards are stationed around the tent. A few nobles, judging by their clothes. With wide eyes, you recognize the de facto ruler of Jaerwik, King Kodrick. Fuck, fuck, fuck... And here you are, hiding in a bush like an assassin. You can hear voices talking. If you just get a tint bit closer, you could hear them... [[No way - Stealthily get some distance from the tent.|leave tent]] [[Get closer and eavesdrop on the royalty.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_see_king to true>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "theme_song">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">You writhe like a snake through the thick bushes, sliding stealthily closer to the crowd. Then you reach the tent from one of its unguarded sides. Hiding behind a barrel of wine, you finally hear their conversation over the roar of the rain. King Kodrick, the fifth of his name, is standing in the tent, a glass of wine in his hand, pacing impatiently in front of an intriquetely carved wooden chair, draped in gold and silks. The King can't be more than 20 years of age, his youth clearly visible in his childish face, and his way of walking. The chair is facing away from you, but you can see that on it sits a thin figure, a cloak hiding his features. "You have lingered far too long in our midst." King Kodrick the fifth's impatient voice booms into the pouring rain as he takes another mouthful of wine, holding the goblet out accusingly at the figure sitting on the chair. "You insistently meddle from the shadows, your touch felt in every corner of Jaerwik. What compels your ceaseless interference?" The figure, his features hidden from beneath the hood and behind the chair, chuckles softly, the sound carrying an otherworldly resonance. "Interference? Is that what you call safeguarding a legacy I helped build? Jaerwik's fate is intertwined with mine, boy." Hearing the voice sends shivers down your spine, and suddenly you feel cold to your very bones despite the arcane heat of the gardens. [[You've heard enough - This is not for your ears.|leave tent]] [[You know you shouldn't, but you can't help it. Continue listening.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_raining_mystery">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">This conversation is not for your ears, you realize, and hastily retreat into the dense bushes of exotic plants. No, you need to focus on why you're here: Finding the man who invaded your dreams. The strange pull on your chest is telling you the way forward is through the tent, but you decide the best approach is to circle around it. Quitely, you do so, managing to stay hidden from the sentries posted around the garden. You allow yourself to relax a bit as you put distance between yourself and the figures in the tent. Your hidden path ahead is blocked by thick bushes with razor-sharp leaves, which you learn the hard way when you try to walk through them. Which only leaves one route: Straight across the sanded garden path, where the guards are patrolling. As long as you're fast, this shouldn't be an issue... [[Sprint across the path, hoping no one sees you.|progress]] [[Sneak across the path, hoping no one sees you.|progress]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">This is as close to an audience with the King as you'll ever get. You're not going to waste an opportunity like this. You decide to stay, still huddling behind the barrel of wine. King Kodrick's eyes narrow, his voice tinged with frustration. "Your presence is a specter haunting my rule. It unnerves my courtiers. I won't have it. My father was weak, may he rest in peace, but you were the root of his troubles." The King is pacing faster, throwing out his arms as he speaks. But the figure remains seated, calm. When at least he speaks, he sounds like a teacher lecturing a spoilt child. "I have witnessed empires rise and crumble, kings ascend and fall. I am here to ensure Jaerwik endures beyond the fleeting ambitions of mortals. Like your father. Like you." The words are not spoken as a threat, rather, a mere statement of facts. Kodrick clenches his fists, his voice trembling with barely contained rage. "And yet, your eternal vigilance has done nothing but bind us to your shadow! My father's ambitions were his own, not yours to twist. I refuse to let Jaerwik be a mere pawn in your endless game!" None of the guards seem to be paying any attention to the conversation. Instead, their gazes are sternly looking away from the center of the tent, out towards the surrounding gardens. The more you linger here, the more you feel that you should not be here... [[Leave before things get ugly.|leave tent]] [[Just listen a moment longer...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">You're not sure why you choose to stay, even as every inch of your body is telling you to get out of there. Instead, you fight your urge to flee, mesmerized by the figure in the chair. The figure's voice drips with disdain and contempt. "Such insolence from one so small and fleeting. You are but a moment, a mere blink in the span of eternity. Just like your father." The figure gestures lazily at the angry King. Then, a royal guard steps forward, and in a swift motion, plunges his spear through Kodrick's back, from behind and above. The king falls to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth in a cry of pain, as the spear hits the ground below him, impaling him on the spot. In shock, you stare, unable to to move a muscle as the King of Jaerwik coughs up blood, kept upright in a grotesque kneeling position by the spear. You witness the last moments of King Kodrick, who looks confused, scared, and even younger than before. The figure in the chair slowly rises, revealing a man as thin as a skeleton, his flesh impossibly shrunk. "You were always destined to be a mere footnote in history, Kodrick. Say hello to your father from me." The figure says as it leans forward, placing a skeletal hand on Kodrick's forehead. In horror, you witness a writhing mass of smoke engulf the dying king, and a flow of dark energy released from his body into the figure. [[Terror roots you to the spot as you witness the regicide of King Kodrick.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">The smoke and dark energies dissipate, leaving behind a shadow of the former King. The guard promptly pulls out his spear, without a word, and resumes his position guarding the tent. How are they loyal to this figure and not the monarch...? You don't get far in your thoughts when a new panic surges in your breast. The figure turns, slowly, facing you with hollow eye pits and the deathly grin of a walking corpse. "A witness to history?" The figure says straight to you. In a blind panic, you turn, finally fleeing the scene. But you immediately bump into two royal guards, who grasp you in their arms, pulling you back into the tent. Cursing, heart beating in wild panic, you do everything in your power to escape the impossibly strong and fully armored guards. Then you manage to reach for your infernal bone dagger. In the chaos that follows, you somehow manage to sink the dagger deep into the unprotected neck of one of the royal guards, just where his full helmet ends. The dagger sticks, sinking deep, but the man doesn't even seem to notice, how!? The royal guards, without pause, bring you into the tent and hold you down in a kneeling position before the figure. "Curiosity has its price..." The skeletal corpse says, staring into your very being with those hollow undead eyes. Somehow, despite your blind panic, you manage to ask with a whisper: "Who... Who are you?" As the figure leans forward and places a cold hand on your forehead, it says: "How quickly the commoners forget... It matters not..." Darkness consumes you. A moment later, when you feel the last of your life leaving your bones, your soul floats free from your body. An observer now, you witness your consumed body slump to the ground before the skeletal figure. Then you feel it. A malicious presence. And an impatient tug. Your soul, the very essence that is you, no longer floats freely. The binding takes hold of you, and you're pulled down violently, a chill gripping the fragments that are left of you. In an instant, you surge through the streets, the very earth, until only darkness remains. Into the abyss, far below. The cry of a thousand souls greets you and you feel a gnawing at your being. Something is consuming you, eating your soul, slowly, sucking on the juicy bits with careful thought. And in panic, you realize it has an eternity to complete its task, and it enjoys every second of it. Your soul screams in agony as it joins the cacophony of a thousand other crying souls... <h4>Ending 3: Consumed.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending reverse 5]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch4/TENT.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... While you wait, you observe the gathered party. At least a dozen palace guards are stationed around the tent. A few nobles, judging by their clothes. With wide eyes, you recognize the de facto ruler of Jaerwik, King Kodrick. Fuck, fuck, fuck... And here you are, hiding in a bush like an assassin. You can hear voices talking. If you just get a tint bit closer, you could hear them... [[No way - Stealthily get some distance from the tent.|leave tent]] [[Get closer and eavesdrop on the royalty.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/GARDEN_PATH.png">A glance around confirms it: There are no guards around. Then, you put thoughts into action, crossing the sanded garden path with determination. The path becomes narrower when you turn a corner. In the distance behind you, lantern light is illuminating the sands, signaling that a guard is approaching. You press on. When you round a second corner, you almost collide with a guard who's looking the other way. Startled, you come to a halt. But he hasn't heard you over the sound of the rain. You can't go back, since there's an unknown amount of guards coming your way. This is no time to think, and ponder about what to do. You need to act, now... Your fingers touch the hilt of your infernal dagger... [[Kill the guard and move on.|progress 2]] [[Incapacitate the guard and move on.|progress 2]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/TOMB.png">At your question, Tryton shakes his head. "No, this is far beyond me. You'll have to thank our prestigious ruler for these creations." He says, clearly not about to expand on the topic. "It is a good thing I found you before they did. Now, how about we leave this awful rain? Come." he instructs, briskly walking across the sanded path. A million questions are churning within you, but for now, you remain silent, following the hooded and cloaked figure through the rain, through the gardens. ... Eventually, many twisting turns later, you arrive at what appears to be a mausoleum. Tryton gestures with his hand and a massive block of stone moves out of the way to reveal a narrow staircase leading down into a pitch-black darkness below. A fucking mage or something, that's what Tryton is. How else could he sneak up on you like that, and move blocks of stones without touching them? Or are his powers borrowed, from his patron? Your thoughts are interrupted when Tryton disappears into the darkness without a glance behind him. Is he in a rush, or does he not care if you follow or not? Ah, what the hell, you've come all this way. Why would you turn back now? Slowly, you approach the door that opens a dark path down into unknown depths. You can barely see the three first steps before everything is swallowed by darkness. You're not afraid of the dark, or particularly claustrophobic... But this... Uhh! Fine! [[Approach the darkness.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CORRIDOR_TOMB.png">You take a tentative first step and let your fingers touch the walls on both sides. Somehow, it feels comforting, knowing there's something solid around you even if you can't see it. Another step. Then a third. Soon, you can't see a thing. And each step you take makes the rain fainter, more distant. A sound behind you startles you, and with an increasing sense of dread, you witness the stone sliding into place, sealing the mausoleum and you within it. Cursing, and in a mild panic, you push on through the darkness. "Tryton?" You call out, a whisper at first. "Tryton!?" you try, this time louder. Nothing. Under your breath you add: "You piece of shit..." Soon, you come to the last step in the stairs and move through a pitch-black corridor. It's cool and damp here, the chill of the grave gnawing at you as you shuffle ever onward. Is it your imagination, or is there someone behind you, breathing ice-cold breaths at the back of your neck? When you turn, flailing with your hands in fear, you find nothing but darkness. You quicken your pace, rushing through the cold void. [[Continue through the darkness]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CORRIDOR_TOMB.png">Then, what feels like an eternity later, your knees hit something, almost sending you tumbling forward. A step. Stairs. Leading up. These stairs are winding, spiraling, and as you ascend you can feel the warmth returning to your bones. Then you see it. A faint warm light, growing stronger. Out of breath, you arrive at the source. A wooden door, opened, welcoming you inside. Without hesitating, you accept the door's open invitation. The room you arrive in reminds you of a kitchen at first. The walls are made of ancient stone, and the room is devoid of windows. The flickering glow of hanging lanterns is impossibly bright to your unprepared eyes. Squinting, you glance around the room. Rough-hewn wooden shelves line the walls, cluttered with an array of strange ingredients—dried herbs in twisted bundles, jars of viscous, unidentifiable liquids, and powders of every hue, their scents mingling into a heady, almost nauseating cocktail. The centerpiece of the room is a large, scarred table, its surface pockmarked and stained from countless experiments. A mortar and pestle, stained dark with use, sits beside an assortment of alchemical tools—retorts, alembics, and crucibles, all arranged haphazardly. Copper and iron pots, long since blackened by flames, hang from hooks above, their insides encrusted with the residue of arcane concoctions. Scattered about are scrolls and tomes, their pages yellowed with age and filled with indecipherable script. The floor is a mosaic of discarded ingredients, scraps of parchment, and the occasional bone, crunching underfoot as you navigate the space. The air is thick with the acrid scent of burning herbs and the sharp tang of chemicals, making it clear that this is no ordinary kitchen but rather an alchemist's den, where culinary arts give way to darker practices. [[Find Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">You leave the room behind, continuing onwards. In the next room, you find Tryton, who is sitting patiently in a comfortable chair. The room is a paradox of comfort and unease, an unsettling blend of cozy and sinister elements. The rough stone walls exude an ancient, cold strength, their surface illuminated by the warm, flickering light of a large fireplace, where flames dance and cast shadows that seem to move with a life of their own. Luxurious, plush furniture is arranged invitingly around the hearth - a deep, burgundy armchair with brass accents, a chaise lounge draped in soft furs, and a low, intricately carved wooden table. The cushions and throws are rich and inviting, creating a stark contrast to the rough stone backdrop. Yet, despite the comfort, the presence of something vast, beyond comprehension, is palpable. The air is thick with an unseen pressure that weighs on your chest, making each breath feel heavy. Strange symbols are etched into the stone, barely visible but thrumming with unknowable energy. The shadows cast by the fire twist and curl unnaturally, almost as if whispering secrets to those who dare to listen. On the mantle above the fireplace, dark artifacts and relics sit - obscure idols, skulls carved with ancient runes, and a single black candle, unlit but emanating an aura of dread. The room's atmosphere is oppressive, a constant reminder that the abyss is ever-present, watching, waiting. You can feel its nefarious influence deep in your core, a chilling reminder of the dark patronage he serves. [[Enter the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_downbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Tryton has hung his wet cloak by the fireplace. Under it, a growing wet pool of rainwater gleams in the light of the fire. He is now wearing fine black silk clothes, embroidered with golden threads, symbols and patterns. An expensive garment. You realize he must belong to the upper classes, nobility even, of Valkama. Tryton gestures towards the fireplace, and one of the luxurious chairs. "Good. You are indeed touched by the abyss, as I suspected. Feel free to dry your clothes and change into something warm. Then we'll talk. My servant shall soon fetch us a warm drink." When you get closer, you see warm robes have been laid out on the chair. They too look expensive, embroid with golden patterns. Your own clothes are soaked through. Tryton looks sincere, indicating no hints of trickery. "Fine." You tell him, grabbing the garments, and heading into a guestroom that Tryton points out to you. Soon, you've changed into dry clothes. The black robes you're wearing are softer than anything you've felt before, and warm too. On top of the robes, you attach your equipment belt. No way you're letting go of your tools. Or your dagger. Then, you return to the big room with the oppressing atmosphere, hanging your soaking wet clothes to dry in front of the fire. No sooner have you done so when a pale and frail young woman enters, carrying a tray of biscuits, a pot of tea and some cups. She's wearing tatters, bare skin showing through gaping holes in the fabric. She looks sick, with sunken cheeks, and has a vacant look on her face as she pours tea into your cups, bows to Tryton and you, and disappears the way she came. You're glad she's gone. Seeing her filled you with unease. But your host, Tryton, is unbothered and wastes not a moment as he digs in, dipping his biscuit in his hot tea. [[Sit down, but keep your eyes on Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">You sit down in the incredibly comfortable chair, and let the warmth of the cup of tea warm your cold fingers. You have so many questions. And here is a man who might finally be able to help you. Where do you start...? "You said you could sense the abyss in me. But can you help me get rid of it?" Tryton thoughtfully chews on his biscuit and washes it down with a sip of tea. "I can sense it, yes. And it is strong in you, too. Otherwise, you would not be standing here. The tormented souls of the void would've seen to that. Just a little test, that dark visit to the crypt." He reveals. Stunned, you glare at him. "You're telling me I could've been killed down there? No warning? How am I supposed to trust you, after pulling a trick like that!?" You're angry, and you can barely keep the rage out of your voice. "I had to make sure. Besides, there's no other way inside the Doom Clock. Into here." He gestures at the room around him, the space. "Doom Clock?" You ask, confused. Tryton leans back in his chair. "One thing at a time, Taru. You asked me if I could get rid of the influence of the abyss within you. But let me ask you: Why would you want that, when you can learn to wield it instead? Rather than being a marked victim, become an exalted champion." That, however, sounds like a very stupid idea. You tell him as much: [["Why would I embrace something that wants to harm me?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">"Why would I embrace something that wants to harm me? That is objectively evil, that is an ancient poison upon the world?" You retort, dismissing his offer. But Tryton shakes his head, saying: "Before you dismiss Astorolus, think on this: Is it actually evil? Or is it just misunderstood? Think of it as a beast, trapped in a deep pit without food for weeks, months, or years. If someone falls down into the pit, is the beast evil for devouring them? What if someone else throws a person into the pit?" Tryton shrugs. "This is quite similar to your predicament, Taru. A misguided cult of Astorolus has marked you as food, and tried to throw you into the pit. Somehow, you cling on by a thread, to a root, but you're still above the pit. A nudge is all you need, and you'll go tumbling down. Straight to the hungry beast, stuck in its pit without a way out, without nourishment." The implications of what he's saying gradually wash over you, like the rising tide slowly covering the shore. But no, you do not agree. "The abyss cannot be seen as just a beast. It is the devourer of souls, this is known to all. Misery and torment are what it feeds on!" You exclaim, determined to prove Tryton wrong. And again, he shrugs, dismissing your thoughts. "The manner in which it feeds is slow, by its nature, this is true. Hence the suffering experienced by the victims, like a snake eating the victim whole, slowly digesting it. But is it evil because of this?" Damn this man and his justifications. You say... [['"Yes, it is evil!"'|continue tryton]] [['"You may have a point there..."'|continue tryton]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Tryton sighs. "Astorolus is a misunderstood ancient being, weaponized by mankind and abused by misguided cults that believe they serve it." Tryton concludes. "But you do not have to choose now. Regardless if you embrace it, or turn your back on it. The path to both ends is still the same: You will need a stronger grasp of its nature. You need to learn how to dominate it, or it will dominate you. Then, and only then, can you cast its influence aside or embrace its power." Tryton concludes. You're unsure what to think of all this. "If I use its power, am I not weaponizing it myself?" You ask. To his, Tryton finally nods his head, agreeing with you. "Quite so. Just as I am. Just as Colematoin did. I'm not a guardian of Astorolus, any more than you are the guardian of the moon. How could we be, insignificant mortals as we are? I will not stand in your way, if you reach out and wield this power." He explains. Well... That certainly makes him sound rather flexible in his worship of this ancient being, doesn't it? Not a guardian, then. More like a parasite, with a vested interest in its host's survival? These thoughts you do not share out loud with Tryton. "Colematoin? The founder of Jaerwik and Valkama? What does he have to do with anything?" you ask, confused as to why Tryton would bring him up. But Tryton shakes his head. "Everything. The source of his greatness. The Abyss. And at its heart..." he gestures around him. "The Doom Clock." This is the second time he has mentioned this building, this place, whatever it is. You're not even sure where you are. You ask... [["What is this place?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Tryton takes another sip of his tea, the flames of the fireplace dancing on the polished surface of the cup. He smiles at your question. "Colematoin's priced possession. A threshold to The Abyss. The blessing and the curse." None of it makes sense to you. "Speak plainly, Tryton. I'm done with your games." You tell him, frustrated. At your outburst, something changes in Tryton's smile. "Very well. The Doom Clock is a remnant of an ancient civilization that existed here long before Valkama was founded. And they knew the way to the abyss, a straight gateway. What's left here when Colematoin found it was merely scraps. Traces of power, lingering in the very fabric of the stones. But it was enough. Just that tiny trace of the void, a fraction of the ancient civilization's power, was enough to achieve everything Colematoin wanted. The founding of the undeniable capital city of the known world, even at the far reaches up here in the north. The spell that shrouds the gardens, keeping it warm even in the midst of winter. His undead servants, which you've already have had the pleasure of meeting. And his perpetual life. These are but a few examples of the things Colematoin accomplished with the power he found here." Tryton reveals, a sparkle in his eyes. "... But what makes it a clock?" you ask, confused. To this, Tryton responds: "There's a contraption in here that, according to texts we've found, supposedly shows how close to the end of the world we are. Like a clock. But, from what we've gathered, it appears it is broken. There have been no changes for decades." "And how come you know all of this...?" you ask, unsure if Tryton is spinning a tale like a snake oil merchant, just to get you hooked on the story. "Colematoin himself told me. And the texts here confirm it." He simply says. Colematoin...? That's impossible. You find yourself saying... [["Colematoin has been dead for hundreds, if not thousands, of years."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Tryton raises an eyebrow. "You were bound to find out the truth eventually, now that your soul is intrinsically tied to The Abyss. I am but his humble servant, in things both mundane and abyssal. It is with his blessing that I have improved the comfort of this ruin. Here, I communicate with and study the great void within the earth, and the being that stirs within it." All of it sounds like a bunch of horseshit. But you've been through too much, seen too much, to doubt his words. You focus on what's important: He can help you tame the void within you, cast it aside, or embrace its power. "What is this path you speak of, to learn to control the abyss?" You ask. He replies: "A path where we study the abyss, together. And you learn how to dominate others and it: to be the one in control. I can sense that you're more comfortable following orders. This won't do at all. You must find an iron will of your own. Assert your will on others. Break them. This will harden you." You ignore the hidden insult in his statement. The part about having an iron will doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually. But that's where the good ideas end, in your mind. Messing with the abyss, getting deeper into this trouble and as Tryton said "breaking others"... But it might be your best bet at clearing this mess. But Piru is still an option, if you decide not to explore this path.<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>> And the God of Mercy offered a concrete way too...<</if>> Regardless, you would do well in learning more about the abyss if you aim to get rid of it, no matter which way you choose to go about it. Tryton is watching you, an intense look on his face. "Are you ready? Let's learn about the abyss, together. And through it, learn about ourselves too." He says. After careful consideration, you say... [["I'm ready."]] [["Coming here was a mistake. Farewell."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">Tryton smiles when he hears your words. "Excellent. Before we dive deeper into the nature of the Abyss, let's see if you have what it takes. Follow me." He stands up, placing his empty cup of tea carefully down onto his plate, then with hands behind his back starts walking at a brisk pace the same way his servant retreated to. You have to scramble to your feet to catch up. The two of you pass multiple murky rooms, some completely derelict and abandoned, others filled with tomes and scrolls, and yet more filled with supplies to feed a whole family for months. This is clearly a permanent place of residence for Tryton, and no wonder. In the Doom Clock, he is as close to the abyss as he can get. Eventually, the two of you reach a staircase and descend a dark corridor lined with heavy thick wooden doors. This reminds you too vividly of the cultist prison you were trapped in, the memory too recent to shake. Your breath catches in your throat as you hesitantly follow Tryton, the supposedly anointed of Astorolus who supposedly doesn't follow the cultist's ideals. A purist of sorts. Well, you certainly hope that's the case as you pass door after door, your heart beating loudly in your chest. Every inch of your being is screaming for you to run, that this is a bad idea. But somehow, you cannot move back, only forward as you follow Tryton. Then he stops, in front of a large wooden door. He gestures towards the fine black robe you're wearing. "You are an authority here, to these prisoners. They have all committed crimes to warrant execution. But, alas we lack hard evidence. But it matters not. In the official records, they've already been marked as dead and buried. No one knows they're here. And no one will mourn them." Tryton turns and produces a ring of keys, sliding it into the lock of the massive wooden door. [[Follow Tryton into the cell.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_dead_tryton to false>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">You do not like what you're hearing. Tryton holds out his hand in a stopping gesture when you stand up to emphasize your words. "Fascinating. You aren't curious about the nature of the abyss? I thought you wanted to break free from it." He's judging you, analyzing you. Trying to understand you. "I came here looking for help. Not to torment others or break them." "And just who do you suppose is better equipped to help you than I?" Tryton asks, a valid smug smile on his face. "That is for me to figure out, and none of your concern." You retort as you grab your clothes from the fireplace. They're still soaking wet... "I see. Well... In that case, I wish you good luck on your journey. May we never meet again." The last part he adds with a hint of anger, or disappointment. But you ignore him, rising above pettiness as you walk to the back to the room where you changed clothing, and slip back into your soaking wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... When you return, Tryton is already walking away. Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. "You know the way out..." Tryton says as he leaves you. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">The medieval jail cell is a cold, damp space, its stone walls slick with moisture and moss. The air is heavy with the scent of mildew and decay, and the faint, distant sound of dripping water echoes through the darkness. A massive wooden door, reinforced with iron bands, stands imposingly at one end of the cell. Its surface is scarred and splintered from years of use, and a small, rusted grate near the top allows the occasional flicker of light to penetrate the gloom. The room is dark, until Tryton lits a large torch near the door. Its light illuminates the cell, revealing in the corner a woman wearing rags. Around her neck is a large metallic collar, it in turn attached to the wall. She appears to be sleeping, sitting hunched against the walls in her corner. You do not recognize her, and why should you? It's not like you know every criminal in Valkama, just because you're a wanted criminal yourself. Seeing her, you realize that this could easily be you. And yet, fate has dealt you a hand that has kept your freedom, of sorts. You wonder if the woman would trade places with you. Selling her flesh to an archdemon and her soul to the abyss, to regain a portion of her freedom. No doubt she would. "You have complete control here. The one in charge. Use this power to dominate her. To break her. Make her trust you as her new God, her salvation, her way out. Then make her confess to the murder of her husband." Tryton explains, his voice but a whisper in your ear as he steps back. Before he leaves, he hands you two keys. "One for her chains. One for the door. Seek me when you're done." he explains. [[Protest! This is not what you signed up for...]] [[Take the keys and turn your attention to the woman...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">You do not like what you're hearing and seeing. "This is not what I signed up for. Look at her!" you tell Tryton, shocked. You bat away the keys in his hands, turning to leave. Tryton holds out his hand in a stopping gesture when you stand up to emphasize your words. "Fascinating. You aren't curious about the nature of the abyss? I thought you wanted to break free from it." He's judging you, analyzing you. Trying to understand you. At that moment you feel a strong impulse to reach for your knife and plant it in Tryton's heart, to release the woman and any others Tryton might have imprisoned here. You came here to understand the nature of the Abyss, a potential cure. But what you see here fills you with disgust, and you want no part in it. [[Channel you anger. Kill Tryton.]] [[Suppress your anger. Simply leave.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to 0>> <<set $ch4_woman_name to "Prisoner">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">You knew that the path to free your soul wasn't going to be easy. Or comfortable. The keys feel heavy in your hands when Tryton leaves you to it. Now you're alone in the cell, with the sleeping or unconscious woman. Her cell has no windows, and the only illumination comes from the single torch Tryton placed near the door. The shadows in the corners seem almost alive, shifting and moving with each flicker of the flame. The atmosphere is thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures in the dark. The cell exudes a sense of hopelessness and despair, a place where light and hope are all but extinguished. At first, you decide to test the keys to the door. Indeed, you're able to close the massive wooden door to the cell and lock it. Well, that solves the issue of her running away. But what now? Slowly, you approach the woman. Break her, yet make her trust you, and find her darkest secrets? Just how does Tryton expect you to do that? [[Wake her up gently.]] [[Wake her up with force.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_frantic">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">You've seen and heard enough. Whatever these prisoners did, they do not deserve to be treated like this. Tryton, and by extension Colematoin himself, are flirting with the powers of the abyss with no regard for others. You came here to find a way to get rid of the soul binding, to cast away the shackles imposed by the Abyss, the Fathomless Hunger. And here he is, actively partaking in its corruption, wishing for you to do the same. Well, you will not have it. When you move past Tryton, you tell him: "I came here looking for help. Not to torment others or break them." Behind your back, you're reaching for your infernal bone dagger without him noticing. Its hilt feels warm in your palm as you grip it, in stark contrast to the damp coolness of the cell. "And just who do you suppose is better equipped to help you than I?" Tryton asks when you're mere inches from him, close enough to smell his breath. Silently, you ignore his question as you pretend to move past him. Then, in one quick motion, you release the dagger from your belt, closing the distance between you and Tryton and strike at his heart. The palm of his hand connects with your head, sending you tumbling out of the cell into the corridor, face first into the wooden door. Disoriented and spitting blood, you glance around, only to see Tryton standing unharmed before you in the corridor. How did he have time to react? A paranoid fucker with ungodly reflexes? "I see. Was this your intention all along, I wonder? To use my invitation as a guise to get to me? A hired blade, then, by whom I wonder? It matters not. You will die like the others." he threatens, clearly mistaking you for an assassin out to get his head. Well, both of those things are quite true aren't they? But not in this case. Tryton brings out his hands in front of him, drawing shapes in the air. You steel yourself, trying to focus. Your ears are ringing as you grip your infernal bone dagger tighter. For a moment you consider correcting him, to let him know you're not a hired assassin. But then he lunges at you faster than an arrow flies from a great bow, straight at you. <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "Tryton, the anointed of Astorolus looks at you with rage in his eyes. His fists are a blur, his movements faster than anyone you have seen as he expertly dodges your blow. Calm yourself Taru, surely he has a weakness...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "After Tryton Combat">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Defend Yourself (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl3">><</link>><<else>><<link "Defend Yourself (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_dead_tryton to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">A deep breath is needed to calm and collect yourself. Without reaching for your knife, you tell Tryton: "I came here looking for help. Not to torment others or break them." "And just who do you suppose is better equipped to help you than I?" Tryton asks, a valid smug smile on his face. "That is for me to figure out, and none of your concern." With determined steps, you leave the cell. The walk back is long, but you've made up your mind. Finally, you find the room with your clothes. They're still soaking wet... Tryton appears behind you. "I see. Well... In that case, I wish you good luck on your journey. May we never meet again." The last part he adds with a hint of anger, or disappointment. But you ignore him, rising above pettiness as you walk to the back to the room where you changed clothing, and slip back into your soaking wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. "You know the way out..." Tryton says without a hint of a smile on his face. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">His fists are a storm, expertly keeping your dagger away while threatening to smash your skull in, or snap the bones in your arms in two. There's barely enough room in the narrow corridor to step backward as you desperately evade his assault, trying to find an opening. Then, just when you're backed into a corner, you find it. Or rather, the soul within the dagger does. You try to parry his strike with your arm, and slash his wrist with the dagger. But as he gets close, the dagger suddenly pulls you with it, staggering you not away from Tryton but straight at him. The last thing you see is Tryton's palm connecting with your temple. Then the world grows dark. [[...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">She does so in an instant, but keeps her head low. Still not saying a word. "Who are you?" you decide to ask her as you walk over to Tryton's corpse, releasing the ring of keys from his belt.<<if $ch4_woman_confession is true>> "Where's the woman? The prisoner?" But you get no response to that question either.<</if>> "Not the talkative type, huh?" you comment when the woman still refuses to say a word. With a shrug, you leave her to her silence. With the key in hand, you walk from cell to cell, checking the state of Tryton's prison. It turns out there were just three prisoners here. The woman, and two men. <<if $ch4_woman_confession is true>>The woman is nowhere to be seen, having gotten her freedom. But she did not bother helping her fellow prisoners. <</if>>The remaining prisoners appear to be asleep in a corner of their cells, with a collar and chains around their necks. A sordid affair indeed. [[Free the prisoners.]] [[Put them out of their misery.]] [[Just leave them here...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_kill_prisoners to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">They do not deserve this fate, whatever they did. With that thought in mind, you remove the chains and collars from the criminals. None of them wake up from their strange slumber, but this is not your concern. They are free from their shackles. If they have a will to live, they'll find a way out from here. But what to do about Tryton's servant... [[Approach the servant.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_kill_prisoners to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">You're suddenly regretting your outburst at injustice. These are criminals, like you, but unlike you, they were caught and sentenced to death. From the looks of it, they aren't far from death's door anyway. Why should you help them, come to think of it? At best, they'd thank you and then piss off. At worst, they'd mistake you for Tryton's pawn and attack you. Besides, they look too weak to survive anyway. No, the safest and most merciful act is to end their misery. With a heavy heart, you walk from cell to cell, ending the life of the prisoners. None of them cry out when their throat is slit. None of them stir to life, or open their eyes, to witness their deaths. They were, you decide, practically dead already even without your actions. You feel strange, after the last of them lies dead at your feet. Numb, in a way. But you keep reminding yourself that it's best this way. Slowly, you snap out of your deep thoughts. Right. But what to do about Tryton's servant... [[Approach the servant.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_kill_prisoners to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">You're suddenly regretting your outburst at injustice. These are criminals, like you, but unlike you, they were caught and sentenced to death. From the looks of it, they aren't far from death's door anyway. Why should you help them, come to think of it? At best, they'd thank you and then piss off. At worst, they'd mistake you for Tryton's pawn and attack you. No, the safest course of action is to just leave them here. With that thought, you close the cells, locking them. Not a single prisoner from within the cells protests as you lock their doors. It's better this way. You do not want their blood on your hands, but neither do you want to risk a confrontation. Now, what to do about Tryton's servant... [[Approach the servant.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">She is standing where you left her, in the corridor. She's folded her hands behind her back, and offers you a bow when you approach her. Ugh, she really needs to snap out of this... You slap her, hard enough to startle her. "Get a grip, woman. I'm not your new master. I'm just a passing through..." you tell her, articulating very clearly and talking slowly so that the apparent slow woman understands you. She massages her cheek wordlessly, staring at you. "For fucks sake..." you sigh, rolling your eyes. Fine... Whatever. You're not a babysitter. With those thoughts, you head back up the stairs and pass through the many rooms of the Doom Clock until you find your own clothes. They're still wet. Figures. With the host of the house dead, you decide to change clothes right there in front of the fireplace. The servant has followed you, you realize. The sound of her naked feet on the stones alerts you to her presence. "Not safe." she whispers. Her voice is raspy, and dry. Like an old crone. Startled, you finish putting on your clothes and gear. When you reach for your bag of supplies, you ask her to clarify: "So, you can talk. About time. Not safe, huh. How so?" It's like you're seeing a new side of this woman, suddenly all talkative. But she just stutters, unable to provide any further details. "Look, I need to find information about the abyss, alright. Just don't get in my way, hmm?" you tell her, elbowing past her. The room filled with tomes and scrolls should have some interesting notes, surely? But the woman stops you, holding out her hands. There's a serious look on her face as she repeats: "Not. Safe." Then, a distant grinding sound echoes through the building. Faintly, you recall the massive block of stone at the entrance to the crypt. All color drains from the woman's face as she stares in the direction of the tunnel. Whoever is coming is clearly known to her, for she is in wild panic. "Who is it? Damn it! Focus! WHO IS COMING?" [[The woman whispers... Co.. col...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">You stare at her with wide eyes. "Colematoin? Are you fucking kidding me!?" You shake the woman by her shoulders. When she finally nods, pure fear in her eyes, you let go of her. Tryton did mention him. But is this the real, actual founder of Valkama, Colematoin? Tryton and his servant seem to think so. Fuuuuck... "Is there another way out of here? Hey! Look at me!" you snap your fingers, then slap the woman again. She shakes her head, still staring at the room at the far back, the one leading into the tunnel. "Just... Brilliant... Fantastic..." you mumble under your breath. Then, your brain starts working. Is he here to check on Tryton, a scheduled meeting? Or has he somehow sensed that something is wrong, that Tryton is dead? If he is as powerful as Tryton said, then surely the latter would be true... Never underestimate your opponents, that's the one thing you've learned from all your years as an assassin. And right now, you must assume two things. First: He is immortal and a direct confrontation would lead to your demise. A secondly: He knows Tryton is dead, and he is coming here to personally deal with whoever killed him. "Shit." Yeah, that's all you can think to say at this moment. Ok, calm down Taru. You need to keep your cool, or otherwise you're not getting out of this one alive. And the servant needs to see what someone's got their wits about them. [[Come up with a plan...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Right. A plan. So. The only way out of here is through the narrow tunnel, which Colematoin is coming through. So, step one: Make sure he exits the tunnel. Alright, but then he's here. So you hide. Naturally. And hope he doesn't see you, keeps on moving and investigates the cells where Tryton is? Then, once he's there, make a run for it? You glance at the servant. She's going to be the death of you, isn't she? Look at her. She's shaking in fear. But... Colematoin expects her to be here, doesn't he? Once again you find yourself slapping the woman, stopping her incoherent mumbling. "Look. Colematoin expects you to be here. Right?" She nods, staring into your eyes. "Good. Just don't say a word to him. Shouldn't be too hard?" you glance around the room. The cups of tea. Yeah, best keep her busy... Unceremoniously, you throw the pot, cups and tray into the floor, making a huge mess. The servant stares at the spilled tea, shards of porcelain and crumbs of biscuits. "Here's what we do: Find shoes and proper clothes. Then clean this up. Be fully focused on this task when Colematoin comes here. Do not pay any attention to him. He won't look your way twice, I promise. Meanwhile, I will stay hidden. On my signal, run through the tunnel, alright?" You explain to her. There's no hiding the fact that she looks shocked, and she couldn't stay quiet if her life depended on it (which it probably does). For now, this is the only thing you can come up with that gives her the best chance of surviving this. Hiding in plain sight: An upset servant, cleaning a mess they caused. Nothing new or odd about that. She blinks at you. Then, slowly, she nods. In a hurry, she disappears. Hopefully, she sticks to the plan... Right, now you need to hide. There's a large chest at the far end of the room. Should be big enough for you... By some miracle, it's mostly empty. You slip inside and let the lid close above you. It is only now in the complete silence and darkness of the chest that you realize just how loudly your heart is pounding in your chest. [[Observe the room through the keyhole.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "astorolus_theme">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Seconds feel like minutes as you crouch silently in the chest. The keyhole offers you a window to peek through, and from it you now notice the servant returning with a wet cloth and a bucket. She's also put on a dress, a commoner's clothing, and shoes. Good, much better than what Tryton had her wearing. The servant immediately crouches down, feverishly cleaning the floor. Not too fast now, you want to be doing this for as long as Colematoin is watching... Then a figure appears at the far end of the room. It approaches slowly. From this angle, you can't see what it's doing. But then, you notice the figure is pulling something behind it. A moment later, you realize it is unceremoniously dragging a corpse by one of its legs. <<if $ch4_see_king is true>>Wait a minute... The figure is the one you saw in the garden! And the body it is dragging must be...<</if>>Holy hairy balls of hellfire, that's the King! In stunned terror, you witness the undead figure dragging the corpse of Jaerwik's King Kodrick across the floor. Luckily, Tryton's servant is too busy cleaning the floor, or too scared to look, for she doesn't seem to notice anything strange. And the figure, who in this light looks like a skeletal corpse with hollow eyes, does not pay her any attention either. Somehow, you cannot stop staring at the figure and the corpse of the king as the two slowly make their way through the room and disappear deeper into the Doom Clock. Even when they're gone, you just sit there in the chest, unable to comprehend what you just saw. Then, you finally snap out of it, and rush into action. Now is your chance. You push the lid up, then leap across the room, grabbing Tryton's servant. "Let's get the hell out of here..." you say, signaling loud and clear to her that now is the time to make yourselves scarce. [[Run to the tunnel!]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_mother_not_in_abyss to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CORRIDOR_TOMB.png">The coast is clear, and so the two of you make a run for it. Her bucket spills as she rushes to her feet, but it doesn't slow you down as you reach the tunnel. A final glance behind reveals that the figure, if it indeed was Colematoin, is somewhere deeper in the building. Clearly, there's something else occupying his mind than you or Tryton. A dead king, perhaps? The way through the darkness of the tunnel and crypt doesn't feel nearly as oppressing this time, when you rush through it. When you reach the massive stone that blocks the entrance, and place your hand upon its rough surface, it comes alive. Slowly, it rolls to the side, revealing the way back into the garden. Then, finally, the two of you make it out into the still-rainy Inner Gardens of Valkama. But neither of you dare to stay there, and so you lead Tryton's servant wordlessly through the gardens, away from the Doom Clock, away from Colematoin. Praying that you do not encounter his undead guards. With luck, divine intervention or skill, or a combination of all three, you make it to the edge of the gardens. The single guard positioned at the entrance doesn't seem to be paying attention when you slip past him, or it... As blind as they are deaf? Well, no matter. This woman is clearly in no shape to climb rooftops, and so you pull up your hood and help her the best you can to navigate the crowded streets of the northern region of the Divine District, just south of the Inner Gardens. Even in this rain, people are still filling the streets of Valkama. "Do you have a place to go? A home? Someone you know?" you try asking the woman, but you get little to no replies again. It's almost as if she's withdrawn into herself, shielding her from the harshness of the world. And no wonder, with a master like Tryton. Bloody hell, are you feeling a bit protective all of a sudden? "Fine... You can stay with me. Just for the time being..." you add the last remark as a warning, to yourself and her. [[Head back to your new hideout.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/BREWERY_ATTIC.png">On your way back, you pass the infamous Traitor's Gate. When you <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>glance down at the crowd below<<else>>walk through the crowd<</if>>, you notice a few unfortunate men hanging by their necks, their still figure a reminder what the city does to criminals and traitors. This is a common scene, but still gathers a crowd each time. When you pass by the gate, you can't help but wonder who the original traitor, or traitors, were that gave name to it. You shrug the thought away. A librarian might know the answer to that, if such a detail isn't lost to history already. But it does not matter. Instead, you focus on the task of finding your way back to your new hideout. ... Luckily, the rain has stopped long before you reach the hideout early in the evening. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You explain to the servant that your hideout is in the attic. A while later, you find a way up to the roofs that doesn't involve climbing a rope, but rather taking a leisurely stroll up a "borrowed" ladder. When you've ensured no one's around, of course. You return the ladder to where you found it, once she's made it inside through the window. Then you descend into the attic from above, using your grappling hook.<<else>>You descend to the attic window from above, sneaking inside.<</if>> The place is as you left it, with the crates in the same position, and none of the bottles fallen or broken. This is good, and as you expected. It means no one's been here since you left. With a sigh of relief, you shut the window behind you. You're cold and miserable though. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You notice Tryton's servant has wrapped herself in a warming blanket that she's found lying around. She offers another blanket to you.<<else>>After searching for a while, you find a stash of blankets.<</if>> This attic truly keeps on giving, doesn't it? It offers a nice cozy warmth as you wrap it tightly around you. Then you spill the contents of your bag on a crate. The bread is a wet mess, but the sausages and apples look fine. And naturally, the bottles of mead. [[You're starving. Eat something.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/BREWERY_ATTIC.png"><<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You offer the woman an apple, a sausage and a bottle of mead, taking the same for yourself.<<else>>You start with an apple, a sausage and a bottle of mead.<</if>> The sweetness of the fruit perfectly counters the salt of the sausage, and the rich honeyed flavor of the mead tastes like heaven on your tongue right this moment. Even the sausage is a rare luxury indeed. No dried whale meat here, no sir. Only the finest pork! Your brain feels overloaded, in need of rest. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>But the woman has your attention. Who is she? What's her story? Why doesn't she say anything?<<else>>Gods. You could sleep for a hundred years. Would that be bad? Lately, you've come to question if all this hardship is worth it. If you should just give up instead.<</if>> <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>[[Talk with the woman.]]<<else>>[[Rest for a while. You need it...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">A moment later, you find a sufficiently dark corner to slump down in, wrapping yourself up in the blanket. It's early still in the evening, but you're exhausted. A long night's sleep is exactly what you need after this day. Besides, you're still cold to your very core from the walk back... <<if $ch4_mother_not_in_abyss is true>>And the chill of the void...<</if>> ... An unknown amount of time later, your slumber is interrupted by unpleasant thoughts. You slowly awaken to the familiar smell of burning flesh, filling your nose, choking you. Coughing, you open your eyes, only to be jolted wide away when you're suddenly falling in the air, consumed by an infernal portal conjured right underneath you! You land hard onto the obsidian floor of Piru's infernal realm, smacking your head on the hard surface. When you manage to stand up, with a blistering headache, you realize you're alone. You're in an unfamiliar long corridor, not the bedroom, and Piru is nowhere to be seen. The corridor stretches endlessly before you, its walls pulsating with a sickly crimson light that seeps from cracks in the jagged, obsidian stone. The air is thick with the stench of sulfur and decay, and the ground beneath you reflects the dancing lights on the walls. Faint whispers echo around you, disembodied voices carried by the oppressive heat, promising nothing but torment and despair. If there's a silver lining here, then it's the fact that you aren't naked.. "... Hello? Piru...?" you say loudly into the empty corridor. Silence greets you. What kind of games is the demon playing? Frustrated, and confused, you compose yourself. Clearly, Piru wanted you here. But for what purpose is yet to be seen. [[Determined, yet cautiously, you begin to walk through the endless corridor...|Chapter 5 start]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/BREWERY_ATTIC.png">She nibbles at her food, while you've already devoured yours. Hungrily, you glance at the sausage in her hand, but decide it would be rude to eat both of them. As long as she eats it, slowly as she is, she can have it... "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Taru Nopsa. My friends call me 'Bolt'. Apparently, because I'm fast or something. Don't know about that..." you mumble. Something in the woman's eyes stirs to life, like a spark, but it disappears as quickly as it came. When she doesn't say a word in return, you continue: "You know, it's funny. Growing up, I never really had a home. My gang? They were the closest thing I had to a family. We moved from place to place, always one step ahead of the law. Always looking over our shoulders. It was exhausting, but it's all I've ever known." You pause, glancing out the small, grimy window at the rain-soaked street beyond. "Being wanted, being hunted... It's a way of life, I suppose, like any other. Wish I'd known my father though. He was just a shadow, a ghost in the stories my mother used to tell me. Not that she was around for long either. She died when I was young. Left me to fend for myself in a world that's cold and unforgiving. Got lucky that the gang found me. Took me in. Nurtured me." Your voice trembles as you think back on all these years. How it all came to a sudden end. Their betrayal stings deep, a wound that will not heal. Not before you have answers. Not before you get your revenge. Whoever betrayed you, after all these years in the gang... [[The woman simply sits silent, but it's apparent she's listening to you.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/BREWERY_ATTIC.png">Your voice falters when you realize you have the woman's full attention. "With the gang I... They gave me a purpose, a way to survive. We stole. We killed. We did whatever it took. Life wasn't perfect, but who's life really is? But it was all I had." The woman is looking at you, and you sense she's beginning to understand. "You probably think I'm a monster. Maybe I am. But I wouldn't trade it for a thing. The feeling of being off the rooftops, looking down at the ordinary people... You feel like you can do anything. There's just one thing I would change..." Your voice becomes a whisper as you add: "... to avoid cultists at all cost..." The sound of the wind outside is the only thing that replies to your thoughts. That, and the crunching sound from the woman, when she finally takes another bite from her apple. Gods. Is she a simpleton? Or is she shocked to her very soul by whatever she witnessed in the Doom Clock? Not that it matters... Suddenly, you feel very tired. Gods. You could sleep for a hundred years. Would that be bad? Lately, you've come to question if all this hardship is worth it. If you should just give up instead. "If those bottles move, wake me up, alright?" you explain, pointing at the crate over the lid, stacked with glass bottles. She nods. Good. At least she understands what's being said. "I'll just catch some shut-eye..." you add, jawning. [[Rest for a while. You need it...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">Best not to scare her witless right at the start, but you can't very well talk to a sleeping person either. You decide to wake her up, gently squeezing her shoulder. "Wake up..." Then you hesitate. Prisoner? Woman? What should you call her? In a position of authority, if you wish to maintain it, you probably should call her Prisoner. [[Just call her Prisoner]] [[Call her by her name, once you figure it out.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear + 3>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">You need to make sure she understands you're not her equal. That she has reasons to fear you. But you can't very well talk to a sleeping person. You slap the woman roughly on her cheek. "Look alive $ch4_woman_name!" you say loudly, mustering a foreign sensation of superiority. The woman's eyes shoot up in panic as she wakes up from your slap and shout. Her eyes dart between the chains on the wall, you and the wooden door at the far end. "Don't get any bright ideas. You're here for as long as I deem it necessary, understand? You leaving this room in one piece depends entirely on me." You have her full attention now, the fear in her eyes tells as much. [[Explain her predicament.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_name to "Inga">> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear - 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Wake up now. What's your name anyway?" you ask her, shaking her gently by the shoulder. The woman's eyes slowly open, taking in the cell. Her eyes dart between the chains on the wall, you and the wooden door at the far end. "Yeah, don't get any bright ideas now, ok? Just tell me who you are." You have her full attention now, the fear in her eyes tells as much. She looks shaken, but replies with a hoarse voice: "Inga... My name is Inga." Right. Progress. "Good, see. That wasn't so bad, was it $ch4_woman_name?" you tell her, hoping to put on a comforting smile. [[Explain her predicament.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Look alive $ch4_woman_name!" you tell her, mustering a foreign sensation of superiority. The woman's eyes slowly open, taking in the cell. Her eyes dart between the chains on the wall, you and the wooden door at the far end. "Don't get any bright ideas. You're here for as long as I deem it necessary, understand? You leaving this room in one piece depends entirely on me." You have her full attention now, the fear in her eyes tells as much. [[Explain her predicament.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_betrayal">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Look, $ch4_woman_name, you're here because of some unfortunate circumstances, right? Well, I'm just trying to understand them. And right now, I need you to be frank with me. Can you do that?" She looks confused, and lost. "Who... Who are you? Do you work for Tryton?" she finally asks and coughs up phlegm. "You could say I'm helping him out. But I do not work for him." you reveal, keeping the details to yourself. The less she knows, the better. How do you want to play this? Harsh, demanding? Or try to be kind, gain her trust? [[Try to gain her trust. Talk about other things first.]] [[Tell her who you really are. Why you're actually here.]] [[Be demanding: She isn't your friend.|cruel path]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear - 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"I know the conditions here are less than ideal." You begin, trying a gentler approach. "You know, I spent a lot of time gazing up at the stars from the rooftops of Valkama. Do you ever gaze at the night sky?" Your question is casual as you find a chair to sit down on, bringing it in front of the woman. Her eyes flickered with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. She clearly didn't expect you to talk about stars. "I used to." She admits softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "When I was a girl, my father would take me to the hill, and we would watch the constellations. He knew all their names." See? It's working. She's opening up. Encouraged, you continue: "Ah, the constellations. They have guided sailors and dreamers alike. Do you have a favorite?" The woman hesitates, then nods. "The Phoenix. My father said it symbolized rebirth and immortality." "A fitting symbol." You muse. "Especially in times of hardship." The warmth in your voice contrasts sharply with the cold stone around the two of you, you realize. Maybe she will find comfort in that. <<if $ch4_woman_fear >= 0>>[[You let the silence hang for a moment as you consider your next questions.|failed gentle path]]<<else>>[[You let the silence hang for a moment as you consider your next questions.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Tell me, $ch4_woman_name." you finally say, breaking the quiet. "What were the things that brought you joy before all of this? Before the accusations and the cell?" She looks up, her eyes reflecting a flicker of the woman she once was. "My garden." she says softly. "I loved tending to it, watching the flowers bloom. It was my sanctuary." You nod thoughtfully. "Gardens can be a refuge, a place of peace amidst chaos. It sounds beautiful." The tension in the cell seems to ease slightly as you speak of simpler times. Your approach is disarming, a stark contrast to the brutal methods often employed in these dungeons. You realize that breaking through the woman's defenses requires more than intimidation; it requires understanding. "Sometimes..." You say quietly. "We find ourselves in the darkest places, searching for a way out. I believe everyone has a story, $ch4_woman_name. Would you share yours with me?" Her eyes meet yours. What she sees is perhaps a glimmer of compassion. She takes a deep breath, the weight of her burdens momentarily lifted as she begins to speak, her voice trembling with the pain of her past. [[Listen to her story.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">She sighs, a mixture of sorrow and longing in her gaze. "I was just a simple woman, living a simple life. I was born in a small village near the forest. My parents were farmers, and they taught me everything I know about tending the land." She pauses, her eyes growing distant as she remembers. "Life was hard, but it was good. I married Erik, a kind man who worked as a blacksmith. We didn't have much, but we were happy. We had two children, a boy named Eirik and a girl named Freya. They were my world." You listen intently, trying to keep an empathetic expression. Erik, the husband, who she supposedly killed. Now you're getting somewhere. "It sounds like you had a loving family. What happened to them?" Her face crumples as she fights back tears. "It was the plague. It swept through our village like a dark cloud, taking many lives. My children... they were so young. They didn't stand a chance. Erik and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. They were gone within a week." A heavy silence falls over the cell, the weight of her loss palpable. Instinctively, you reach out and gently touch her hand, offering silent comfort. "I'm so sorry." You manage to say. "No one should have to endure such pain." She nods, her eyes red-rimmed but grateful for the sympathy. "After they died, everything changed. Erik and I tried to hold on, but we were never the same. He turned to drink, and I buried myself in the garden. It was the only thing that brought me any solace." To this, you say with a furrowed brow: [["The garden must have been a refuge for you."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">Her expression softens a tiny bit. "Yes, it was. I loved watching the flowers bloom, tending to the plants. It gave me a sense of purpose, a way to keep going." Once again you find yourself nodding, understanding the need for such a sanctuary. "Gardens can be a place of healing. Do you still think about it?" The woman sighs. "Every day. I miss the smell of the earth, the feel of the sun on my face. Here, in this cell, it's like a distant dream." This feels like the time to press further, and ask her more details about why she's here in this cell. You lean forward, your voice gentle but probing. "Inga, what happened after the plague? How did you end up here?" The woman's eyes darkened, as if the pain of her past resurfacing physically hurts her. "It's a long story, one filled with hardship and heartache. After Erik... after everything, I was lost. I did things I'm not proud of, made choices that led me down a dark path." You can sense the weight of her words, the unspoken truths hidden beneath the surface. You decide not to push too hard after all, not yet. "I understand. We don't have to talk about it all at once. But I want you to know that I'm here to listen, to help you find a way through this." She looks up, hope flickering in her eyes for the first time. "Thank you.... I don't know what will happen, but knowing that someone believes in me... it means more than you can imagine." [[Now is the time to push for details. Be firm.|cruel path]] [[Continue talking to her instead. Make her feel comfortable.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Look, I want to help you, not just with understanding your past, but also with what you're enduring now. I see the iron collar around your neck. It looks quite uncomfortable." The woman's hand instinctively reaches up to touch the heavy collar, her eyes filled with a mixture of shame and resignation. "It's a constant reminder of where I am." she murmured. "And what they think of me..." You lean forward with a resolute expression. "I can have it removed. It's a small gesture, but I believe you deserve some dignity, regardless of the accusations against you." Her eyes widened in surprise. "You would do that for me?" "Yes." You reply firmly. "It's within my power, and it's the right thing to do. I have the key right here. You just need to promise not to do anything stupid." You explain, warning her. She nods, eyes widened in surprise. "I promise, I won't do anything! You would do that for me? Now?" She is eager to get the weight of the metal away from her neck, this much is clear. "Absolutely." You reply, reaching into your robe and producing the small set of keys. Then, you move closer, your hands gentle as you examine the lock on the iron collar. "Hold still for a moment." The woman tilts her head slightly, allowing you better access. The cold metal clinks as you work the key into the lock. After a few moments of precise maneuvering, the collar snaps open and falls away, clattering to the stone floor. The woman instinctively reaches up to her neck, touching the now bare skin. Her eyes fill with tears of relief. "Thank you. I... I didn't expect this kind of kindness." You offer a warm smile. "You deserve some dignity, regardless of the accusations. This is just the beginning. I want you to know that I will continue to help you. I'm here to understand the truth, and then look towards the future." Lies, all of it. She's already been sentenced to death, a confession or details surrounding the death of her husband will not matter. Guilty or not, it doesn't matter. Her fate will be the same. She nods. "I appreciate that. It's been so long since anyone listened, truly listened." Well, at least the woman didn't attack you. That's good, right? You ask... [["How are you feeling?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"Let me make one thing very clear: I need only one thing from you. And that is the truth about your husband's death. How difficult you make this depends entirely on you." You grab the only chair in the cell and bring it in front of the woman, promptly sitting down without your gaze leaving her eyes. She looks startled, but determined. Clearly not a tough nut to crack. "The truth? The truth is that I'm sitting naked in a cell, freezing, while you sit comfortably in your thick robes. Like you're better than me." she sneers, defiant. At that moment you realize that words alone won't break her. Fuck. If it comes to it, you can be tough on her, sure. After all, wasn't this what Tryton wanted you to learn? And yet, when it comes down to it, you now hesitate to use the power you wield over this woman. You must do something... [[Tell her who you really are. Why you're actually here.]] [[Try striking her with your fist. Make her fear you.|Strike her. Make her fear you.]] [[Try intimidating her without using force.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">With a sigh, you lean back. You don't want to torture this woman or scream at her. No, the best approach is to tell her the truth. Make her see that you're just like her. "Look... I think we got off on the wrong foot here. I'll be honest with you. I really do not work for Tryton. He has something I need. Information, specifically." You can tell that you have the woman's full attention. Nervously, you glance behind you, expecting Tryton to enter the cell at any moment. "We have a deal, him and I. No reason why you and I can't strike a deal, too, hmm?" The woman shifts to a more comfortable sitting position on the cold stone floor. Scratching her leg, she says: "Go on..." Good. Maybe you'll be able to reason with her. "I just need you to tell me what happened to your husband. That's all." You explain. "In return, I can open the locks to your collar and leave the door unlocked when I get out of here. You can slip out. Just don't kill Tryton on your way out: I need him alive." The woman nods at first, but then she scoffs at your plan. "Tryton is going to know you let me go, isn't he? That's a dumb plan, honestly. No. But I have a better idea." She leans closer to you, as far as her chain allows. "You unlock me, hand me the keys and I'll smack you gently in the head. Just enough to leave a mark. Then, I'll slip out. When Tryton finds you, you'll just explain that you underestimated me. That I attacked you." Hmm. Her plan sounds better, but also bad. At this moment you're not sure if you can trust her or not. "And what stops you from slicing my throat when I lie here, unconscious?" You ask her. This is a bad idea. The woman just shrugs. "Nothing, I suppose. Except my honest word, and may the God of Mercy smite me where I stand if I don't keep my word." She says. [[Fine. You agree to her idea.]] [[No way. You're not letting her smack you in the head.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">Her gaze meets yours and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "Better, thanks to you. The collar... it made a bigger difference than I thought it would." You're pleased to see the change. "I'm glad to hear that. But I want to do more. Is there anything else you need? Anything that can make your time here a little more bearable? While we sort this mess?" She hesitates for a moment, then speaks, her voice tentative. "There's one thing. It's a small request, but it means a lot to me. When I was arrested, they took everything from me. Among those things was a locket. A small silver locket, with a drawing of my children inside. It's the only memory I have left of them." Huh, yeah that could be the way to earn her trust. To promise her to look into the matter. "I can see why that would be important to you. I'll do everything I can to find it and return it to you." You lie. But when her eyes shine with gratitude, you feel a bit hurt for doing so. "Thank you!. That locket is all I have left of Eirik and Freya. It would mean the world to me to have it back." You place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, trying to hide the fact that you're betraying her. "I promise I'll look into it." The woman nods, clearly placing her hopes and trust in you. [[Now is the time to ask her about her husband.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"I need to understand what happened. The truth about why you're here. Can you tell me?" Your voice is gentle, but firm. You will not take no for an answer. She seems to hesitate, but a moment later relaxes her shoulders. With a deep breath, she braces herself, then says: "What do you want to know?" Good. She's willing to talk about it. "Let's start from the beginning. How did your husband's drinking affect you?" Your question will hopefully lead you to the truth. Again she hesitates, like she's having an inner conflict. Her words are halting, but she finally says: "He was angry. All the time. I tried to help, but nothing worked." It feels like you're on to something now. "Can you tell me about the night he died?" You ask softly, like you're a hunter trying your best not to scare away your prey. But her eyes fill with tears. "I... I can't. It's too painful." Damn. You reach out, touching her hand lightly. "I know it hurts, but I need to understand what happened. Take your time." She nods, clearing the tears from her face and takes another deep breath. "He... He came home late, as usual. He was drunk, and we argued. I don't remember all the details. It was a blur." You remain silent as she adds: "It wasn't supposed to happen..." You keep your gaze steady and ask: [["What wasn't supposed to happen?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">Her hands tremble as she grips the stone wall, her eyes locked on the floor. The silence stretches between you, heavy and thick with unspoken pain. But you decide to remain patient, your gaze steady and encouraging. Finally, she breaks the silence. "I didn't mean for it to end like this. I just... I wanted him to stop hurting me." Well, that right there already sounds like a confession. With a tone that you hope is soothing, you say: "I understand. But I need to know the details to help you. Can you tell me what happened that night, step by step?" The woman sitting on the hard stone floor of the cell before you cries, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He came home late. He was stumbling, slurring his words. We argued, as usual. I was tired of the fights, of the anger. I just wanted peace..." Without interrupting, you let her continue. Her voice quivers as she adds: "He pushed me. I fell against the table. I was scared... I tried to get away, but he grabbed me. I... I was afraid he'd hurt me worse." With a cool and measured tone, you ask: "And then what happened?" Her face is a mask of torment. "I... There was a knife on the table. I picked it up to defend myself. But in the struggle... I don't remember everything clearly. It was a blur of fear and anger." She whimpers, and her pain becomes yours for a moment as you look down on her. She's buried her face in her hands. All she has left now are shame and regret. [["Can you tell me where he was injured?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">You ask her where he was injured, trying to piece together the scene. Her breath cames in ragged bursts. "He... he was hurt in the chest. I didn't mean to. I just wanted him to stop. I thought I'd just scare him, but it went too far." This should be enough for Tryton. The woman clearly killed her husband. In self-defense, if it matters for a court. Which it won't. "Where did you go afterward? What did you do with him?" you ask, curious at how this story ends. She doesn't meet your gaze, her voice breaking. "I didn't know what to do. I panicked. I wrapped him in a blanket and... I buried him in the garden. Under the old oak tree. I thought if I hid him, no one would find out." Well, that should confirm it if anyone wants to check. "I know this was difficult. But your story is important. It helps me understand the truth of what happened." With those words, you rise up, heading towards the door. From behind you, you can hear her shuffling to her feet. A mix of relief and fear can be heard from her voice, when she asks: "What will happen now?" You turn to face her, halfway to the door. "We'll need to find the body to corroborate your story. I'll do everything I can to ensure that you're treated fairly and that the truth comes out. You're not alone in this, I promise." The woman looks broken as she slides back down onto the cold stone floor, averting her gaze. Exhausted, she whispers: "Thank you. I just want... I just want this to be over." [[With a final nod, you leave her alone in her cell.|close the door]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_downbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL_CORRIDOR.png">You leave the woman alone in her cell, closing the door behind you and locking it firmly. You wonder if Tryton will consider what you did as a success, or a failure. You cannot see him though, when you glance around the corridor. Probably went upstairs, back to the warmer parts of this Doom Clock... The walk back is short, and when you arrive, Tryton is back in the comfortable chair in front of the fire, sipping on a fresh cup of tea. He sees the look on your face. "Well?" You sigh loudly when you slumb down into the chair in front of him. <<if $ch4_woman_confession is false>>"I couldn't do it. Stubborn cow didn't confess..."<<else>><<if $ch4_woman_fear > 0>>"It wasn't easy... But she confessed. With enough details."<<else>>"I got her to trust me. She confessed, in great detail too."<</if>><</if>> Tryton nods at your words. "And how did that make you feel?" What? How it... What the hell is he asking you a question like that for? "What does that have to do with anything?" you retort, dismissing his question. Tryton's eyes narrow a bit, but he looks at you like you're an oddity. Like you're a rare creature he wants to add to his collection. [[It sends a cold shiver down your spine, but strangely your heart beats faster.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear + 2>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">Your fist comes out of nowhere, hitting her straight in the nose. Her head bounces into the wall behind her from the impact, sending her tumbling to the hard stone floor. "Bitch! You broke my fucking nose!" she gasps, blood flowing freely into her hands as she tries to suppress the bleeding. "I'll make sure a broken nose is the least of your worries if you don't start talking, cunt." You growl, pinning her with your gaze. She maintains your gaze for a moment, until she caves, averting her eyes. Good. Maybe she realizes her position. "I need to understand what happened. The truth about why you're here. You will tell me. Understand?" Your voice is stern, the hint of a threat in your words. You will not take no for an answer. She seems to hesitate, but a moment later takes a deep breath and says: "What do you want to know?" Good. She's finally willing to talk about it. [["Let's start from the beginning. Tell me about your husband."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">The woman slowly opens up to you, out of fear. "Not much to say, really. Erik. That was his name. A kind man. Worked as a blacksmith. We didn't have much, but we were happy. We had two children, a boy named Eirik and a girl named Freya. They were my world." "It sounds like you had a loving family. Where are they now?" You ask, showing her that you're not going to treat her badly as long as she keeps talking. She finally gets her bleeding nose under control. "Taken by the plague. It swept through our village like a dark cloud, taking many lives. My children too. Erik and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. They were gone within a week." A heavy silence falls over the cell. "I'm sorry for your loss." You finally say. The woman continues: "After they died, everything changed. Erik and I tried to hold on, but we were never the same. He turned to drink, and I buried myself in the garden. It was the only thing that brought me any solace." Right. A tale as long as time itself. A man drinking his sorrows away, too weak to face reality. While his wife tries to hold them together, a will of iron in the face of disaster, knowing there's a future even in the darkest of hours. You ask her... [["How'd he die? Drank himself to death?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_cold_taru to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">She snorts, instantly regretting it as blood gushes from her nose. Cursing, she applies new pressure to her wound. "As if it was so easy." She begins. "He came home one night. Angry. Drunk as usual, and we argued. For the last time." she admits. Clearly, she has more to say though. A moment later, she adds: "He pushed me. I fell against the table. I tried to get away, but he grabbed me. Next thing I know, he's standing there with a knife in his chest." She looks angry, but also guilty when she admits it. "Wasn't supposed to go that way..." At least she shows regret, beneath the anger. Do you feel powerful now, having extracted the truth? No, indeed you do not. You feel disgust, for being here, for lowering yourself to Tryton's level. But you remind yourself that you're not doing this for him. You're doing this for yourself. To fight The Fathomless Hunger. If hurting others has even the smallest chance of helping you save your soul, then you're willing to take it. Nothing will stand in the way. Certainly not morals. "It sounds like self-defense to me. Where did you go afterward? What did you do with him?" you ask, genuinely curious. She doesn't meet your gaze. "I wrapped him in a blanket and... I buried him in the garden. Under the old oak tree..." Well, that should confirm it if anyone wants to check. "Good. I'm glad you saw reason and shared your story. Of course, it will have to be verified. Just to make sure." With those words, you rise up, heading towards the door. From behind you, you can hear her chains rattling. A mix of frustration and fear can be heard from her voice, when she asks: "What will happen now?" You turn to face her, halfway to the door. "We'll need to find the body to corroborate your story. Then, we'll see." The woman looks broken as she slides back down onto the cold stone floor, averting her gaze. Exhausted, she whispers: "Should've known you're just like the others..." [[Without a word, you leave her alone in her cell|close the door]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_knock_out_deal to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">After a moment's hesitation, you nod your head. "Fine, we do it your way." Her eyes light up with delight. "Perfect. Now, what did you want to know?" "Start from the beginning. Tell me about your husband." The woman slowly opens up to you. "Not much to say, really. Erik. That was his name. A kind man. Worked as a blacksmith. We didn't have much, but we were happy. We had two children, a boy named Eirik and a girl named Freya. They were my world." "It sounds like you had a loving family. Where are they now?" You ask, happy that she's sharing. "Taken by the plague. It swept through our village like a dark cloud, taking many lives. My children too. Erik and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. They were gone within a week." A heavy silence falls over the cell. "I'm sorry for your loss." You finally say. The woman continues: "After they died, everything changed. Erik and I tried to hold on, but we were never the same. He turned to drink, and I buried myself in the garden. It was the only thing that brought me any solace." Right. A tale as long as time itself. A man drinking his sorrows away, too weak to face reality. While his wife tries to hold them together, a will of iron in the face of disaster, knowing there's a future even in the darkest of hours. You ask her... [["What happened then?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_knock_out_deal to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">With a laugh, you shake your head. "Sorry, but that's a hard no. We're not doing this your way, sorry." But the woman is stubborn. "Really? Well, it's your neck you're risking, not mine. Fine. We'll do it your way. What did you want to know?" "Start from the beginning. Tell me about your husband." The woman slowly opens up to you. "Not much to say, really. Erik. That was his name. A kind man. Worked as a blacksmith. We didn't have much, but we were happy. We had two children, a boy named Eirik and a girl named Freya. They were my world." "It sounds like you had a loving family. Where are they now?" You ask, happy that she's sharing. "Taken by the plague. It swept through our village like a dark cloud, taking many lives. My children too. Erik and I did everything we could, but it wasn't enough. They were gone within a week." A heavy silence falls over the cell. "I'm sorry for your loss." You finally say. The woman continues: "After they died, everything changed. Erik and I tried to hold on, but we were never the same. He turned to drink, and I buried myself in the garden. It was the only thing that brought me any solace." Right. A tale as long as time itself. A man drinking his sorrows away, too weak to face reality. While his wife tries to hold them together, a will of iron in the face of disaster, knowing there's a future even in the darkest of hours. You ask her... [["What happened then?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">The woman continues her story. "He came home one night. Angry. Drunk as usual, and we argued. For the last time." she admits. Clearly, she has more to say though. A moment later, she adds: "He pushed me. I fell against the table. I tried to get away, but he grabbed me. Next thing I know, he's standing there with a knife in his chest." She looks angry, but also guilty when she admits it. "Wasn't supposed to go that way..." At least she shows regret, beneath the anger. Well, there you have it. The truth. "It sounds like self-defense to me. Where did you go afterward? What did you do with him?" you ask, genuinely curious. She doesn't meet your gaze. "I wrapped him in a blanket and... I buried him in the garden. Under the old oak tree..." Well, that should confirm it if anyone wants to check. "I know this was difficult. But thank you for sharing." With those words, you rise up, heading towards the door. From behind you, you can hear her shuffling to her feet. A mix of relief and fear can be heard from her voice, when she asks: "Hey! What about our deal!?" You turn to face her, halfway to the door. Here she is, helplessly bound by a collar on her neck to a chain in the wall. How easy it would be to just walk away... [[Ignore the deal. Leave her.]] [[Honor the deal. Unlock her collar and leave the door open.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">"I got all I came for." you tell her, and with those words head out. Her curses echo in your ear when you leave her cell. [[Lock the door to her cell.|close the door]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to true>> <<set $ch4_dead_tryton to true>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">She told you what happened. Confessed to murdering her husband. Now it's your turn to honor the deal. What good are you if your word can't be trusted? With a nod, you approach her, kneeling down in front of her. "Just remember: Don't do anything stupid. And you must leave Tryton alive. I need him." You remind her. She nods, eyes shining. "I promise, I'll be nice!" She is eager to get the weight of the metal away from her neck, this much is clear. "Good..." You reply, reaching into your robe and producing the small set of keys. Then, you move closer, your hands gentle as you examine the lock on the iron collar. "Hold still for a moment." The woman tilts her head slightly, allowing you better access. The cold metal clinks as you work the key into the lock. After a few moments of precise maneuvering, the collar snaps open and falls away, clattering to the stone floor. The woman instinctively reaches up to her neck, touching the now bare skin. Her eyes fill with tears of relief. "Thank you. You're truly something, you know that?" <<if $ch4_knock_out_deal is true>>"Don't mention it. And now you...?"<<else>>"Don't mention it. Now just wait a while until I'm gone..."<</if>> you say to her. No sooner have the words left your mouth when she reaches up and pulls your head first into the stone wall behind her. The world around you instantly turns black. [[...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_fear to $ch4_woman_fear + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">You could use force to get a confession from her, but you do not feel comfortable with that as a first option. Instead, you decide it's best to intimidate her in other ways. With that in mind, you get up and stand menacingly over her, gazing down at her. "Like I'm better than you? A stinking pile of Flugandi Hvalr dung is better than you. You're nothing in here. Less than nothing." Your words do not have the desired effect though, as she simply shakes her head. Frustrated, you reach for your dagger. Its runes glow in the dimly lit cell, casting a demonic fire on the woman's face. She stares at the dagger, curious but not frightened. "There's a soul trapped here, eager for other souls to join it." you explain to the woman, telling only half the truth. "Tell me what happened to your husband, and I'll consider not feeding the soul within the dagger." You threaten. But to your surprise, the woman barks into laughter. "Really? You know, I don't really believe in souls. You've got to do better than that." she laughs in your face. "Besides, ain't no way Tryton would allow you to kill a prisoner. Just fuck off already. Leave me alone." Slowly, you hide the dagger once more in the robes. She's a tough nut to crack. Probably not worth pushing things. Although breaking her nose would probably make her more talkative... Right now, you fail to see another option... [[This is pointless. Return to Tryton.]] [[Try striking her with your fist. Make her fear you.|Strike her. Make her fear you.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_woman_confession to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CELL.png">You're not in the mood to torture somehow for information today. "Have it your way. I'm sure Tryton will be delighted doing... Whatever it is he plans to do to you." You tell the woman, and turn to leave her. "That's right, go suck his cock, cunt!" She shouts at you when you turn your back. For a tiny moment, you consider stabbing the infernal dagger in her heart, just to see the smirk on her face fade. Somehow, you keep your cool though. [[Without another word, you leave her alone in her cell.|close the door]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">"Hmph. It looks like you still have a long way to go, if you wish to confront The Abyss as an equal..." he begins and puts down his cup of tea. Then he slowly stands up, towering over you. He exudes an aura of undeniable authority and command. It's an almost palpable presence that fills the space around him, making the air seem thicker and the room smaller. This is a new side to him you haven't seen before. There's an intensity to him, a quiet, simmering power that demands respect without a single word spoken. "I already got a full confession from the woman. This was a test. Not whether you would manage to extract the truth from her. No. It was to evaluate your mental prowess. Your intrinsic authority." He comes closer, leaning a hand on your chair's headrest, inches from your shoulder. It's like his hand radiates warmth... The atmosphere around Tryton at this moment hums with an unspoken warning, a hint of what he is capable of. Of his dominance. It's not fear he instills, but a profound respect tinged with a hint of awe, leaving you with the inescapable sensation that you are in the presence of someone formidable, someone not to be trifled with. There's something about him that demands your respect. It's not just the power in his stance or the quiet authority in the way he carries himself... I's the way he looks at you, as if peeling back the layers of yourself, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The weight of his gaze is almost physical, pressing down on you, making you feel small and insignificant under his scrutiny. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your own fragility in the face of such overwhelming dominance. You feel as if you're standing on the edge of a precipice, with his eyes the only thing keeping you from tumbling into an unknown darkness. There's a cold sweat forming on your brow, and you resist the urge to shift in your seat, knowing instinctively that any sign of discomfort would be like blood in the water. In this silent exchange, every second stretches into an eternity. His mere presence fills the room, and despite the lack of physical threat, you are acutely aware of the power dynamics at play. It's not fear, exactly, but an overwhelming sense of being judged, measured, and found wanting. You hold your breath, waiting for him to break the silence, but he remains silent, letting the weight of his stare speak volumes. You realize, with a sinking feeling, that whatever comes next is entirely out of your control. "And you were distinctly found lacking..." he concludes, pinning you with his gaze. His eyes are like twin obsidian pools, drawing you in. Your breath quickens from his attention, and your throat is suddenly dry. It's like you've been spellbound: You can't gather your thoughts long enough to form a coherent response. Finally, you manage to... [[Say "I'm sorry..."]] [[Look the other way.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Meakly, you manage to whimper that you're sorry. Sorry for disappointing him. Sorry for being a failure. Sorry for being so weak... The more you think about it, the smaller you feel in his presence. Slowly, clarity returns to you. Did you just fail a silent test? Uncertainty gnaws at you when Tryton stands up and removes his hand from your chair. Suddenly, you feel like you can breathe again. "I can teach you complete domination. First, I will show it to you. Open your eyes to what it means. But I demand full obedience. Do I make myself clear?" [[His words echo in your head...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Somehow, you find the strength to look the other way. Or is it a weakness? Did you just fail a silent test? Uncertainty gnaws at you when Tryton stands up and removes his hand from your chair. Suddenly, you feel like you can breathe again. "I can teach you complete domination. First, I will show it to you. Open your eyes to what it means. But I demand full obedience. Do I make myself clear?" [[His words echo in your head...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">His offer hangs in the air, heavy and potent, as if the very words themselves are laden with the promise of something beyond comprehension. The room, already charged with his presence, seems to shrink further, the walls closing in as the weight of his proposition settles over you. Your skin prickles, a cold shiver running down your spine as the gravity of his words sinks in. Complete dominance. It's an intoxicating idea, one that pulls at your darkest curiosities. A necessity too, if you wish to face an entity like The Fathomless Hunger. Yet, the demand for full obedience and unwavering attention sends a jolt of unease through your core. You feel a strange mix of emotions swirling within you: a heady blend of fear, excitement, and morbid curiosity. The prospect of yielding completely to his will is both thrilling and terrifying. There's a part of you that recoils at the thought of surrendering your autonomy. But another part, perhaps more primal, is drawn to the sheer magnetism of his promise, the allure of tapping into something far greater than yourself. There's an unspoken promise that he will use you as he wants, for he will be in control, and you will be but a pawn for him to play with. The intensity of his gaze feels like a physical weight, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. Your heart races at what feels like a moment of reckoning, a pivotal point where you must decide whether to give in, or refuse. You find yourself saying... [["My obedience is already bought and sold to an archdemon..."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">In stunned terror, the words come out before you know it, revealing your pact with Piru, your pledge. Tryton stares at you, but somehow he looks even more curious than before. Like you're not only a rare creature to add to his collection. No, you're a unique creature. One he simply must have. "Truly? Perhaps I can help you with that as well. Break those infernal shackles? All you need to do is submit..." he holds out his hand, offering to pull you up from the chair. An offer that comes with the promise of power, of control over The Abyss and even a way to fight Piru's influence. It's a tempting offer to accept, but the price he demands is just as steep as Piru's. <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>And the priest's at the temple...<</if>> Your whole body trembles as you... [[Ask him what exactly he plans to do...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">"How, exactly, will you show me total dominance? What will you do... To me?" The words come out cautiously, as a whisper. Why, and how, is he making you feel this way? Tryton smiles at your question. "First, I will ask you to remove your borrowed robes. And everything you have underneath. I will enjoy the sight of your naked body. The fullness of your breasts, the curves of your hips. The sweet mound between your legs." His words are seductive, luring you in, even though he describes in great detail how he sees you. Like a priced possession to be viewed, the pleasure derived from it is the beauty of the object itself - you. But Tryton is not done... "Then, I will bind your wrists. Your ankles. Your arms and your legs. I will keep binding you in ropes until your whole body trembles from my touch. From the scent of the rope. From the pressure it exerts on you. Until your only thoughts are of me, and the rope, and the things I can do to you as you become increasingly immobile. Until you become mine, with no possibility to escape." The picture he paints... It makes your head spin as you imagine it. A part of you desires this, deeply... But a voice of caution reminds you that he is a stranger. To agree is to show a deep trust in him. "And... How... How does this help me? To learn to become dominant, to fight the influence of The Fathomless Hunger?" You ask, confused. And yet, you can already imagine the feeling of removing your clothes in front of him.... The touch of the rope on your skin... How... Is this what it means to exert complete dominance over someone else? To make them tremble and shake with just your words? At your question, Tryton once again smiles. "This is a test of trust. And a demonstration, if you will. If you wish, you can see it as a transaction. Do this for me, and in return, I give my promise that I will help you. Or you can submit willingly, because you're curious. Regardless of how you choose to view this, you will be a melting puddle on the floor before I'm done, begging me for more. This I guarantee." He sounds so sure of himself, so confident and assertive. With a lot of effort, you manage to ask... [["And if refuse, you won't help me?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">As soon as you ask the question, Tryton nods. "Correct. If we are to work together, and even enter The Abyss itself together in search of answers, then I must know I can trust you. And you can trust me. By submitting yourself to me, you show that you trust me completely. And I in turn can trust you, for you will be putting yourself entirely in my hands." he pauses for a tiny moment, before he adds: "Besides, I know you will enjoy it. I can see it in your eyes." Tryton smiles, like he knows your deepest and darkest desires. And in truth, you're fascinated, but terrified, at the same time. Finally, you... [[Accept his hand and say: "I'm yours... Show me everything..."]] [[Ask: "Surely we can show trust in some other way?"]] [[Gather every inch of willpower left in you and push his hand away.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_spicy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">With resignation, you grab his hand, allowing him to pull you up from the chair. Briefly, your knee brushes against his leg and you find yourself gazing up into the tall man's eyes, unsure of what you just agreed to. Well, at least in the beginning you have a pretty good idea, since he gave you a pretty detailed and vivid image of what he intends to do... "Excellent. You can start by leaving your dagger here." Tryton says as he lets go of your hand, and gestures to your clothes drying near the fireplace. Of course. This is about trust. And this is just the beginning. The tip of the iceberg. Dipping the first toe into a cool lake, before taking the plunge. [[Submissively obey - leave your dagger here.]] [[You're having second thoughts about this... Refuse.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">"As much as I appreciate your 'offer', I must decline..." The words are steel, your decision final. Somehow, you found the strength to say no, despite a burning desire to do otherwise. Whoever he thinks he is, or however he thinks he can help you, none of it matters. You're already bound to a demon and shackled to the abyss, you won't be made yet another plaything. Simply put: You do not trust him. Do you detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes? Disapproval? "Others pay for the privilege to surrender to me, you know. But very well. Together we could've achieved so much. Delved deep into the secrets of The Void. If only there was trust between us. Which I see now there is not. Well. I hope your demonic patron offers you the salvation you seek. Now... I think it's best if you left me to my research." he concludes, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. He turns his back and walks away... With Tryton gone, you slip back into your soaking-wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Your question is met with amusement. "Possibly, but I see no approach faster and better than this. Besides, I very much prefer to do it this way. My offer is final: Take it or leave it." his gaze is hard, his voice unflinching. He won't back down. Instead, he still extends his hand to you, patiently waiting for you to take it... Will you put your trust in him, and let him tie you up, trusting he won't harm you? Or will you stop it here and seek answers elsewhere? His offer is tempting though, stirring something deep within you. A desire to just let everything go, to stop thinking for a moment and just surrender completely... [[Accept his hand and say: "I'm yours... Show me everything..."]] [[Gather every inch of willpower left in you and push his hand away.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">With some hesitation, you do as he instructs, leaving your infernal bone dagger with the rest of your clothes. Now you're only wearing the robes you've borrowed from Tryton. "Good." he comments, then adds: "For the sake of complete trust, let's establish a rule. If you wish to stop, for any reason, simply say the safeword 'Colematoin'. I will immediately stop my demonstration. But, I will expect you to leave the Doom Clock and never come back if you do. Do you understand?" When you nod, your full attention on the enigmatic and tall man, you realize you probably will not be using the safeword... You want whatever is about to happen next. "Follow me." Tryton then instructs after leaving your dagger with your other clothes. Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, deafeningly loud in your ears. In that instance, you realize you're not only doing this because you need or want his help. No, you're doing this because the thought excites you. The thought of him asserting his will on you brings a strange warmth in your chest... [[Obediently follow Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">You attempt to take a step back, to create some distance between you and Tryton, but in a flash he grabs your shoulder. He's impossibly fast as he spins you around, then expertly finds his way inside of your robes, and pulls out your dagger. "Hey!" you manage to protest, but then you're pushed back down onto the chair, this time face first. In an instant, Tryton has immobilized you completely, and pins you to the chair. Despite your best efforts of thrashing and twisting. Your screams are muffled by the soft cushioning of the chair, where Tryton now forcefully pins your face. "As I said, I will demonstrate complete dominance. How does it feel, to be helpless?" he says, calmly behind you, a firm grip of your wrists behind your back. "But, for the sake of complete trust, let's establish a rule. If you wish to stop, simply say the safeword 'Colematoin'. I will immediately stop my demonstration. But, I will expect you to leave the Doom Clock and never come back if you do. Do you understand?" With those words, he painfully pulls your hair back, allowing you to finally breathe a deep breath of the cool air of the room. The way he rendered you helpless was, in a strange way, very hot. And, he is in complete control already and could easily kill you now if he wanted. But he doesn't. Maybe you can trust him after all, and surrender yourself to his will? Or, you can get out while you have the chance. All you need to do is say the safeword 'Colematoin'. Odd choice anyway... [[Scream: "Colematoin!"]] [[Submissively say: "I understand."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Whoever he thinks he is, or however he thinks he can help you, none of it matters. You're already bound to a demon and shackled to the abyss, you won't be made yet another plaything. As soon as you say the safeword, Tryton releases his grip on you, true to his word. Then he leaves your dagger on the small table beside your chair and takes a step back. Your legs are shaking when you turn around and stand up, quickly grabbing your dagger. Do you detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes? Disapproval? "Others pay for the privilege to surrender to me, you know. But very well. Together we could've achieved so much. Delved deep into the secrets of The Void. If only there was trust between us. Which I see now there is not. Well. I hope your demonic patron offers you the salvation you seek. Now... I think it's best if you left me to my research." he concludes, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. He turns his back and walks away... For a moment you stare after him, breathing hard, trying to compose yourself. After a while, you're calm enough to think clearly again. It's best this way. The path down whatever he had planned is not for you. With Tryton gone, you slip back into your soaking-wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">As soon as you say the words, his grip on you loosens and he allows you to stand back up. This you barely manage, because for some reason your legs are suddenly shaking from the display of power, and the feeling of utter vulnerability you just felt. And still you chose to not say the safeword, but rather dig yourself deeper into everything Tryton has planned. "Good. Follow me." he instructs after leaving your dagger with your other clothes. Without your dagger, you're only wearing the borrowed robes Tryton gave you. Your heart is beating like a drum in your chest, deafeningly loud in your ears. In that instance, you realize you're not only doing this because you need or want his help. No, you're doing this because the thought excites you. The thought of him asserting his will on you brings a strange warmth in your chest... [[Obediently follow Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He leads you through the dimly lit interiors of the Doom Clock once again, this time turning right through a black wooden door. Inside is a pitch-black room. At first, you cannot see a thing. Tryton flicks a switch near the entrance, which you recognize as a whale oil contraption. The switch is connected to an intricate maze of pipes, and controls tiny valves at the end of each pipe. Upon the flick of the switch, sparks light the room for a brief moment all around the room, at the end of each pipe. Then, the gas of the whale oil seeping from the pipes ignites, illuminating the room in a warm glow from dozens of pipes around the room. You've only seen these contraptions in a handful of filthy rich merchants in Valkama, and never in use. The spectacle leaves you stunned, but you have no choice but to snap out of it when Tryton calmly appears before you and beckons you to follow him deeper into the now well-lit room. You can't help but gaze up at the dancing fires coming from the pipes, their flickering a mesmerizing display of engineering and ingenuity. You're so caught up in the moment that you almost walk into Tryton when he suddenly stops in the middle of the room. It is then you notice the large, thick, woolen mat on the floor in front of you. And from the ceiling, multiple rings of steel, in different sizes, hang suspected in the air. Next to the mat is a rack with ropes, all neatly bundled. "My sanctum of exquisite art." Tryton explains. A second glance around the room adds to your confusion, and you comment: "I see no art..." Tryton turns to face you, once again towering over you. "You are the art, Taru. Or rather, you will be." he explains, gesturing towards the mat, the rings in the ceiling and the ropes. Somehow, you already knew this, knew where this was going and what he wanted, but still you find yourself staring into his dark blue eyes, so dark that they're almost black. The dancing fire of the whale oil reminds you of the northern lights against the darkness of the night sky. "Feel free to put up a fight. For some, it deepens the experience. As long as you do not say the safeword, I will continue and put you in your place. Now, remove your robe, Taru." Tryton demands, gesturing on the floor next to the mat. He wants you to simply let it fall to the ground. Underneath you're wearing nothing but half-wet underwear and a half-wet bra, which will offer little to no protection of your modesty. This is what you signed up for, isn't it? Why else would you be here? You're curious, aren't you, to see where this leads? Besides, you need his help... Surely you won't say no now? [[Do as he says - remove your robes.]] [[You've had second thoughts. Say the safeword 'Colematoin'.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_tease">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Now was the time to walk away. To say the safeword. To not see where this leads. But you cannot stop yourself. Your hands slowly unclasp the belt of the robes, then one-by-one open the decorated buttons. Tryton is watching your every move, his gaze demanding your obedience. The robes fall softly to the floor with a final shrug of your shoulders and a push of your hands. The fabric of the robes caresses your body a final time as it falls, touching your back, your behind and your thighs, before settling in a neat pile around your ankles. "Your bra and underwear too, Taru." he demands, his will is yours to obey without question. In the bliss of the moment, of surrendering to Tryton, you discard all caution. Finally, you're free, freer than you've been in a long time. Free to do as you want. And what you want is to do what he tells you to do, without hesitation... [[Comply - strip completely naked.]] [[Snap out of it and refuse, saying the safeword.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">Whoever he thinks he is, or however he thinks he can help you, none of it matters. You're already bound to a demon and shackled to the abyss, you won't be made yet another plaything. "Colematoin..." you whisper, realizing this is too much. Do you detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes? Disapproval? "Others pay for the privilege to become my art, you know. But very well. Together we could've achieved so much. Delved deep into the secrets of The Void. If only there was trust between us. Which I see now there is not. Well. I hope your demonic patron offers you the salvation you seek. Now... I think it's best if you left me to my research." he concludes, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. But you've made up your mind. Tryton patiently waits for you to leave, which you do with a fast breath. You try to compose yourself as you rush through the rooms of the Doom Clock. After a while, you're calm enough to think clearly again. It's best this way. The path down whatever he had planned is not for you. With Tryton nowhere to be seen and you back in the room with the fireplace, you slip back into your soaking-wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Your breath catches in your throat when you comply with his request. No, demand. You have no intentions of using the safeword when you reach behind your back, unclasping the hook of your bra. Then, with a single motion, you loosen it and let it fall on the robes. The nipples on your perky breasts react to Tryton's gaze by hardening, like they too want whatever is coming next. But you're not done yet. Your underwear stands between you and complete nakedness, complete surrender to Tryton. In a grand gesture of trust, you choose to see things through as you pull them down, awkwardly kneeling for a short moment as they refuse to fall smoothly down your legs. When you stand back up, Tryton's hand reaches out to gently grab your neck. Not with force or pressure, but firmly. His touch on your naked skin is warm, sending waves of nervous electricity throughout your body. You avert your eyes, no longer daring to look up. You're covering your breasts with your left arm, and your right hand is covering your exposed pussy from Tryton's eyes. But he doesn't seem to mind. Because he knows he'll soon see it all, as long and as close as he wants, doesn't he? "Crawl to the mat, submissive. Lie on your back." he instructs, gently guiding you down onto your knees with the strength of his arm on the back of your neck. Two instincts fight for dominance in you. One that simply wants to lower yourself all the way to the floor, to surrender to Tryton. And one that wants to put up a fight, see if he's serious about being dominant - but you have no intention of using the safeword. Not yet, at least. [[Put up a fight.]] [[Submissively crawl to the mat.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">The spell of the moment breaks when you snap out of it. Whoever he thinks he is, or however he thinks he can help you, none of it matters. You're already bound to a demon and shackled to the abyss, you won't be made yet another plaything. "Colematoin..." you whisper, realizing this is too much. Hastily, you pull up the robes again. Do you detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes? Disapproval? "Others pay for the privilege to become my art, you know. But very well. Together we could've achieved so much. Delved deep into the secrets of The Void. If only there was trust between us. Which I see now there is not. Well. I hope your demonic patron offers you the salvation you seek. Now... I think it's best if you left me to my research." he concludes, dismissing you with a wave of his hand. But you've made up your mind. Tryton patiently waits for you to leave, which you do with a fast breath. You try to compose yourself as you rush through the rooms of the Doom Clock. After a while, you're calm enough to think clearly again. It's best this way. The path down whatever he had planned is not for you. With Tryton nowhere to be seen and you back in the room with the fireplace, you slip back into your soaking-wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When you defiantly look up, meeting Tryton's gaze, he knows you're planning mischief. And the looks he gives you, it's like he seems to welcome your rebellion. Like he's encouraging you to try to defy him. Then, you pull away, escaping Tryton's grip around your neck. Simultaneously, you attempt to gain distance between him and you, pushing Tryton away. But he's fast. Incredibly fast. Before you know it, he's closed the distance between you. And to your surprise, he doesn't pull you back, but rather pushes you further away. An instant later you realize why when you feel his strategic foot behind your leg. Off-balance, you fall backward, flailing with your arms. And yet somehow, Tryton dashes forward and manages to catch you. You let out a desperate yelp when he grabs your arms, then unceremoniously carries you to the mat, holding your arms locked just under your shoulders. His strength and speed are formidable, and you realize that you're no match for him in either. A deep feeling of helplessness and vulnerability washes over you when you realize you can fight, but never win, in this room, in whatever happens next... Still, the safeword is not something you're going to use. No, you're here to see things through to the end. It's getting exciting, filling your head with a rush of adrenaline. You're kicking and thrashing in his arms, but he ignores you. Then, the two of you reach the mat, and he expertly turns you around and pushes you down on the mat. You're now pinned down by his weight, lying on your back on the mat, wearing not an inch of clothing. His elbow on your chest builds pressure on your lungs, and every breath is a fight. [[Tryton grabs a rope...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">His will is iron, and it excites you, awakening a fire within you. A surge of adrenaline fills you when you close your eyes, for but a moment, and slowly lower yourself down on all fours at Tryton's feet. Your face is but inches from his shoes, made from black polished leather you now notice. Then, with an encouraging gentle kick from Tryton, you begin your crawl away from all your clothes onto the mat. The woolen mat feels soft and warm against your hands and naked knees when you position yourself in the middle. Then, you remember Tryton's instructions, and turn onto your back. Still, you're trying to hide your breasts and exposed pussy from Tryton's gaze with your hands. He comes next to you, lowering himself down to your level, and places his elbow on your chest. It builds pressure on your lungs, and every breath becomes a fight. But it's a gentle pressure, and his calm look soothes your nerves. He doesn't mean you harm. He's simply asserting himself, making sure you know your place. And indeed you do. [[Tryton grabs a rope...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">"I will take your freedom, and you will enjoy it." Tryton says calmly as he grabs one of the bundles of rope from his rack, while pinning you down with his weight. For a moment, you try to escape, but quickly you realize that there's nothing you can do. He is so strong, firmly controlling your movement... With one hand, he expertly unfolds the full length of the rope, then grabs the middle of it. Then, he folds it, doubling the width. "Your wrist." he simply says, demanding that you offer your freedom willingly. The faint smell of the rope reaches your nostrils: A hint of earthy hay, and some sort of oil. A well-maintained rope indeed. At that moment you wonder how many women have been tied by Tryton in this manner. And what were they thinking, lying on their backs on his mat without any clothes, when he asked for their wrists? Meekly, you comply. You hold up your right hand like a flag of surrender, accepting Tryton's dominance. His weight keeps you pinned down throughout the procedure as he wraps the bight of the rope two times around your wrist. Mesmerized, you watch him work, his fingers moving the rope with just one single hand. He takes the bight, turning it at a right angle over the initial two wraps. Then, with a single finger between the rope and your skin, he pulls the bight through. When he drags the rope across your skin, you notice the contrast between the smooth touch of his hands and the roughness of the rope. It sends a shiver down your spine, awakening your senses. The slight friction makes you hyper-aware of your own body, the sensation both grounding and slightly ticklish. [[Tryton calmly continues.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He takes the remaining length of the rope, creating a simple loop. Then, he pulls the bight through the loop, before hooking his finger between your skin and the rope again, pulling it through the two initial wraps again. Finally, he pushes the bight through the simple loop a second time, before forcefully pulling down on the loose end of the rope. What appeared to be a loose knot suddenly tightens to a solid clump, fitting snugly around your wrist. The rough rope almost digs into your skin, but not quite. Tight, but not too tight. As if to demonstrate the power of the rope, Tryton takes the loose end and quickly ties it to one of the rings that hang in the air above you. The pressure of his body weighing down on you is gone when he does this, since he needs to reach up to grab the ring. You're beginning to feel delirious and disoriented. The whole process of tying the rope around your wrist was almost sensual, disarming you completely. You have a moment to catch your breath, as Tryton grabs another bundle of rope... [[Do nothing. You like where this is going...]] [[You want to spice things up. Attempt to escape.]] [[Say the safeword. This is too much.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Tryton calmly finishes his knot, then holds out his hand. "Your left wrist, pup." he instructs. Something within you purrs silently when you submissively present your left wrist to Tryton. Tryton takes your wrist, and as if to make a point to remind you of your position, puts his foot on your naked chest. He applies only a little bit of pressure, forcing you to stay down, reminding you of your place. Then, he begins to tie a similar knot on your left wrist as he did with your right. You realize you cannot escape even if you wanted to, and soon your left wrist is helplessly bound, just like your right. He ties the loose end to another ring. What happens next takes you by surprise. [[Tryton pulls on one of the other rings hanging from the ceiling.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/FIREPLACE_DOOMCLOCK.png">The spell of the moment breaks when you snap out of it. Whoever he thinks he is, or however he thinks he can help you, none of it matters. You're already bound to a demon and shackled to the abyss, you won't be made yet another plaything. "Colematoin..." you whisper, realizing this is too much. You're on your back, your right wrist already tied to one of the rings above you. You glance up at Tryton... Do you detect a hint of disappointment in his eyes? Disapproval? "Others pay for the privilege to become my art, you know. But very well. Together we could've achieved so much. Delved deep into the secrets of The Void. If only there was trust between us. Which I see now there is not. Well. I hope your demonic patron offers you the salvation you seek. Now... I think it's best if you left me to my research." he concludes, untying the rope around your wrists. Hastily, you scramble to your feet, putting on your clothes. Tryton dismisses you with a wave of his hand. Both you and he have made up your minds. Tryton patiently waits for you to leave, which you do with a fast breath. You try to compose yourself as you rush through the rooms of the Doom Clock. After a while, you're calm enough to think clearly again. It's best this way. The path down whatever he had planned is not for you. With Tryton nowhere to be seen and you back in the room with the fireplace, you slip back into your soaking-wet clothes. They'll dry eventually... Then, you place the borrowed black robes on the chair. The way out of the Doom Clock is of course through the same passage that chilled your very bones... Fine. You'll leave. You did not like what you heard here. [[Head back into the gardens.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When you pull the rope, nothing happens. The knot is solid, the rope far too strong. But you should be able to untie yourself with your left hand. This you now attempt, while Tryton is busy tying the loose end of the rope in the ring. But as soon as you do, Tryton notices. As you expected... He did say you're free to fight, after all, so he is expecting some sort of resistance. His hand lashes out, grabbing your left wrist, preventing you before you even touch the knot. "Feeling bold, pup?" he asks. When you attempt to scramble to your feet, Tryton prevents you by forcefully pushing you back down with his foot on your naked chest, knocking you down. Your left hand is also trapped in his hands, and he now begins to tie a similar knot on your left wrist as he did with your right. Despite your best efforts, you cannot escape, and soon your left wrist is helplessly bound, just like your right. He ties the loose end to another ring. What happens next takes you by surprise. [[Tryton pulls on one of the other rings hanging from the ceiling.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When he does, the rings that are tied to the ropes of your wrists rise fast, pulling you off your feet. In surprised shock, you stare with wide eyes as you're lifted into the air, desperately clinging onto the ropes tied to your wrist. Tryton ignores your cry for help and grabs your right leg, where he begins to tie another knot. He's behind you now, and you cannot see what he's doing. Your fight-or-flight reaction kicks in, making your heart beat faster. This strange position brings with it a feeling of being incredibly vulnerable. A vulnerability that is almost overwhelming, like standing on the edge of an emotional precipice. Suddenly, you're yanked about a bit by Tryton, and for a moment, you're caught off guard. The abrupt movement jolts you, causing a brief surge of adrenaline. It's not painful, but it disrupts your thoughts. As you regain your composure, you realize Tryton has pushed your right ankle close to your right thigh, and now wraps the working end of his rope around your thigh, as far up as he can get. The roughness of the rope slides over your naked skin, just at the top of your leg. You shiver with a mix of anticipation and anxiety when he spirals the rope around your leg two more times, lightly tugging it to make sure it's tight. [[Somehow, you're paralyzed as you hang there, simply letting him continue...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He spreads your legs now, and suddenly you're extremely aware of your own nakedness. And how the touch of the rope and assertive dominance have awakened your arousal, which has made your pussy soaking wet. Surely Tryton cannot help but notice that you're so horny that you're literally dripping onto his mat? "You're really enjoying yourself, aren't you?" He comments, keeping his attention on the ropes. His hands move to the inside of your leg as he slants the top wrap of rope down so that it intersect with the wrap in the middle. Your cheeks blush crimson at this comment. He maintains a steady tension throughout, ensuring your ankle remains snugly touching the back of your upper thigh. He does something, but you cannot tell what it is until he's done. The working end of the rope has been tied to the wraps around your thigh, preventing it from slipping open. Then, disappointingly, he closes your legs and works on the outside of your right leg, doing something similar there. The bondage is complete and absolute by the time he's done, and you can feel that you cannot move your right leg an inch with this tie. [[As a reward for your patience, Tryton lowers you back down...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When you've demonstrated submission, without thrashing against his leg tie, he seems to reward you by pulling on one of the rings again. This time, you're lowered back down onto the mat until you're on your back again. Your arms are still stretched above you, tied to the rings as they are, and your right leg is now immobilized by the rope wrapped around it, pinning your ankle to your thigh. As you expected, he now begins to work your left leg, creating a similar tie there. As you stretch and smooth your cramped muscles on the knot on your leg, you can't help but feel a mix of relief and discomfort. The ache in your muscles is a reminder of the tension you've been carrying, the tension of constantly being on edge, constantly looking over your shoulder. How your world was turned upside-down in an instant, so very recently. At first, your breath becomes shallow with confusion. But as you surrender to the ropes, you begin to relax into it. The confusion melts away, replaced by an odd sense of comfort and security. As you gently work the rope into your skin, feeling knots dig into your muscles, a sense of release begins to wash over you. There's a satisfying sensation as the tightness gradually becomes familiar, comfortable even. The pressure of a rope envelops you, pressing into every part of your skin. It's like a warm, gentle cocoon, compressing your body with a firm but tender hold. [[Tryton is done with your left leg too...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Tryton now helps you up to a kneeling position, where you barely maintain your balance. Your bound legs offer little help keeping you straight. Then, he slowly unties the ropes from the rings, bringing a massive sense of relief when your arms are finally lowered down. He allows your arms to be free, for a moment, hanging to either side. The knots around your wrists are still there, naturally, but you have complete freedom of movement again. Every thought to escape disappears when Tryton digs his hands into aching muscles. He begins by massaging your neck, moving to your shoulders, then back up to your scalp. His fingers in your hair force you to relax as he continues his massage. Then, he places a gentle, but firm, hand on your throat. Just to remind you where you are. What you are to him at this moment. While he gently chokes you, he continues massaging your back, loosening a built-up tension you didn't know you had. Then, all too soon, he removes his hands from your throat and muscles, and slowly pulls both of your hands behind your back. "Your submissiveness pleases me..." Tryton comments. And without protesting, you let him continue. You didn't realize it at first, but you've closed your eyes, completely surrendering yourself to the sensation of his touch. He begins to work on the ropes again, untying the knots on your left wrist, only to replace it by tying it firmly to the same rope as your right wrist. He has brought your arms up, crossed behind your back, touching your shoulder blades. [[Tryton takes the rope and wraps it around your chest, just above your breasts.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">The pressure of the rope just above your breasts reminds you once again that you're not wearing any clothes, but you realize that you don't mind. You're too grounded in the moment, hyper-aware of the rope on your skin, and how it makes you feel. Tryton attaches the rope once to the rope behind your back, then brings the working end another time around your chest, just above the first wrap. He takes his time, finishing the knots, sometimes lightly touching your skin with his hands, sometimes dragging the rough rope across your skin as he creates more knots. As you melt into the situation, your breaths become deeper and slower, almost meditative. The steady rhythm of your breathing grounds you in the moment, bringing a sense of calm that washes over you. It's as if each inhale fills you with a gentle warmth, and each exhale releases the lingering tension from your body. You find yourself no longer thinking about anything except the present, the world outside fading into a distant hum. The stress of everything that's happened, with all the worries, seems to dissolve away, leaving you in a state of peaceful stillness. You're already completely vulnerable and bound, with your arms tied behind your back, and each of your legs tied by their ankles to your thighs with multiple wraps of rope. In this bondage, with movement literally impossible, you have to surrender to the sensation completely. There's no escape, no room for distraction or avoidance. The intensity of the moment is all-encompassing, demanding your full attention and presence. You physically have no choice but to yield to the ropes, to Tryton, which is somehow profoundly intimate. It's an incredibly intense experience, as if every barrier you've built around yourself has been momentarily stripped away, leaving you exposed yet somehow safe in the cocoon of the ropes. [[Tryton pushes your head down, bending you forward a tiny bit.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When he grabs your hair and pushes it further, you realize that it's in the way of what he plans to do next. Willingly and submissively, you bend over and keep your head down as far as you can go without falling down, tied by your legs as you are. Then, Tryton takes another bundle of rope and sits down behind you, tying the new rope to the existing rope that keeps your arms tied behind your back. "You look stunning, Taru." he pulls you back up, allowing you to relax into your kneeling position once more. He brings the working end of the rope around you, this time just below your breasts. When he does, he gently lifts your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve and demand for a short moment. Your breath catches in your throat when he brings the rope another time around you, once again just below your breasts. His breath is in your ear as he leans over you, tying the new rope just below your left armpit into a secure knot. Then, he brings the rope behind you, before doing a similar knot just below your right armpit. The pressure of the ropes becomes more than just a physical sensation; they feel like a protective shield, wrapped around you with an unspoken promise of safety. You let yourself sink into the embrace, feeling the rise and fall of your breath gradually deepen even further. The comforting weight of the ropes grounds you, anchoring you in the present moment. As you breathe out, a sigh of contentment escapes your lips, and you realize just how much you needed this simple, profound connection. [[Tryton takes his time, finishing the knots behind your back...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Throughout this, you remain sitting on your knees, without moving a muscle. Tryton can do anything he wants with you, you realize, as you let yourself surrender completely to his will. Every thought of fighting has disappeared from your head as a tranquil peace washes over you. Tryton brings a new bundle of rope and kneels down behind you once more. The intimacy of not seeing him adds to the tingling sensation of helplessness as he continues his work of art. This latest rope is attached to the rest of the ropes behind your back. Then, he stands up, once again using the rings hanging from the ceiling. You glance up, seeing him tie it firmly onto one of the rings, wrapping it around the metal. He ignores your look as he brings back down the working end of his rope, pulling it through the ropes pinned to your body. He then pulls harder, forcing you to bend down again as he tightens the rope. Suddenly, you're suspended by the rope behind your back, up towards one of the rings in the ceiling, by this new rope. You can no longer fall, as Tryton secures the rope by wrapping it a few times around itself, before finishing with yet another knot. The constant pull upward suddenly deepens your sense of vulnerability. [[Tryton brings yet another rope...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He seems to have an endless supply of ropes, and this newest one he wraps around your waist. Then, he comes to stand before you, admiring your naked body, exposed and helplessly available for his gaze as it is. But he gives you no relief, no signs of finally exploring your ever-deepening wetness, or caressing your neglected breasts, or sucking on your anticipating nipples. He clearly sees your struggle, your desires, because he comments: "Aroused already, sub? I haven't even touched you..." And he doesn't do it yet either, instead he continues working on the rope around your waist. Satisfied with how it digs into you, he pulls it up through the lower wraps of ropes just below your breasts. He brings the rope up between them, lightly touching them on his way up. Then he pulls the new rope further up, through the wraps of rope just above your breasts. The new rope is now attached firmly around your waist, and pulled up through the two wraps of rope below and above your breasts, going up between them. Tryton stands up, bringing the rope past your left shoulder all the way down your back, to the increasingly complex web of ropes behind your back. He ensures a tight and snug fit, then attaches it to a few key locations behind your back. Then he returns to your front, forcing you to straighten yourself by firmly grabbing your throat and pushing you up. The pressure of his hands on your throat instantly makes you do as he wants, as you look up towards the ceiling, exposing your front side to him completely. [[Tryton secure the rope to the front wraps...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">As you expected, he brings the working end of his rope back into the wraps around your chest, securing it both above your breasts and below. Then, for the first time, your left nipple feels the rough pressure of the rope as he wraps the working end around you. The pressure digs into your left breast, securely pressing it in place, while the roughness of the rope plays with your sensitive nipple. It is only your left nipple that gets this royal treatment, however, for he soon finishes this rope, attaching it securely to your body. Sitting here is one of the most deliriously submissive feelings you have ever discovered. The sensation of being held so tightly, unable to move or control the situation, is both exhilarating and terrifying. There's a strange liberation in this submission, in relinquishing all control and simply existing in the embrace of the ropes. The lines between what feels good and bad blur; the intensity of the experience transcends simple categories of pleasure and discomfort. It's a heady mix, leaving you unsure where one ends and the other begins, as the ropes dig into your skin. Every movement you manage is difficult, and the constant pressure of the ropes sends waves of rough pleasure throughout your body. Tryton soon returns with a new rope, and pulls your legs behind you. Your carefully maintained balance is disrupted as you fall forward, caught by the ropes attached firmly around your body and the ring in the ceiling. You hover, suspended in the air, hair hanging in a loose mess before you, just inches from the mat. [[Tryton grabs your legs...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Tryton's experienced hands grab your legs, bringing them away from the floor. Only your knees brush against the soft woolen mat now. He secures a new rope on the ropes of your left leg, then a second rope to the ropes on your right leg. It feels like you have a fever, a fire burning you from within, when he secures the ropes onto your body, then brings them back down to your legs and wraps them a few more times around your thighs and ankles. If there was a chance to move your legs before, then now there certainly is not. He has wrapped ropes at least eight times around the full length of both of your legs, pinning their ankles to your thighs. But your legs are not tied to each other, which becomes evidently clear when he pulls on the new rope attached to your right leg. When he does, you're lifted far above the floor, your legs pointing towards the ceiling at a small angle, while your head is pointing down towards the mat. The angle is not steep enough to make blood rush into your head, but you're once again reminded of just how vulnerable you are. You're completely in Tryton's hands... In this state, you feel extremely connected to the present, as if the outside world has completely ceased to exist. The past and future are irrelevant; all that matters is this singular, overpowering sensation. It's a profound connection, not just to the physical sensation but to the emotional and psychological space you're inhabiting. You are utterly present, immersed in the now, every fiber of your being engaged in this exquisite, intimate surrender. [[Tryton secures your right leg to a ring in the ceiling...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">The exquisite helplessness that comes from the simple tie leaves you breathless, shaking for more. He has you suspended in the air by ropes wrapped all around your body. Your arms are firmly tied behind your back, unable to move an inch. And now your right leg is suspended in the air too, tied to a ring above you. Soon, your left leg gets the same treatment. When Tryton separates your legs and opens you wide, you can't help but moan softly. Your exposed pussy can feel the warmth of his body, so close as he stands between your legs. You twist, slowly, grinding yourself into the ropes as you try to bring yourself closer to him in a desperate attempt to make him see how much you need his attention somewhere else than the ropes. Somewhere far more rewarding, for you and him. "I love how you willingly spread your legs for me..." Tryton comments, when he sees your increasing effort to get his attention. Again you find yourself blushing, cheeks burning hot with a strange mix of feelings. But he ignores you as he simply attaches your left leg to a third ring, firmly spreading your legs apart. In your suspended state, head facing down towards the mat, and your legs pointing at a small angle upward, you feel completely secure, completely comfortable and completely helpless. A subtle tension has built up within you throughout this experience, but now it fades away. In this state, every second stretches out, heightening your awareness of each breath, each beat of your heart. You're acutely attuned to the moment, feeling everything. And you want more. You want him to finish what he started. To assert his dominance over you completely, by taking you by force right here and now. The thoughts are confusing, delirious, and raw, and your brain feels like a scrambled mess. But still, you... [[Remaing silent...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_fucked_by_tryton to true>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">Your words are a mere whisper: "Relief, please... Fuck me, Sir..." For some reason you add the sir at the end, feeling an overwhelming sense of authority radiating from Tryton in this very moment. You cannot see his look, facing down as you are with your hair blocking your view. But surely he smiles, having broken you so, with just a bit of rope and his touch? Never in your wildest dreams did you expect to find yourself in this situation, with Tryton. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>With Piru, sure, this would probably be just a normal day in his realm...<</if>> "You've been such a good girl, Taru, I believe you've earned your reward." he comments, slowly tracing his fingers across your body, starting in your hair, circling the knots of the ropes on your back, all the way past your ass cheeks until he finds your warm, wet and welcoming pussy. When his fingers carefully test the waters, you instantly whimper, unable to control yourself. You just want to scream to him: "fuck me now, I don't care how rough you are!" but you control yourself, eagerly spreading your legs apart as wide as your bondage allows. A single finger slides in, effortlessly, your wetness offering no resistance whatsoever. "You're a horny little slut, aren't you?" Tryton comments, and when you realize he's waiting for you to confirm it, you whimper: "Yes, sir, I'm a horny slut... Your horny slut..." He is clearly pleased with your answer, because he rewards you by slowly sliding and out of your pussy with his finger, while his other hand finds your clitoris. You're moaning and biting your lip as he continues, surrendering yourself completely to him and his touch. Soon, he increases his pace, sliding a second finger into your impossibly horny and wet pussy. It too slides in effortlessly, and his fingers on your clitoris are rhythmically sending wave after wave of pleasure into every inch of your body. At this moment, you forget about your constraints, about the ropes, about the room. It is only you and pleasure, and it embraces you from all sides. [[You cum loudly, screaming into the room!]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">You're taking it all in, swinging slowly from the ropes in an uncontrolled manner. How you relinquished control, how Tryton simply took your freedom, and now enjoys watching your helplessly bound and naked body struggling in the ropes. Slowly, your head is filling with blood and you can feel the pressure getting uncomfortable, but still you tremble from the pressure of the ropes as they cling onto you, hugging you, wrapping you in their embrace. Tryton slowly moves around you, sometimes standing still, sometimes kneeling down, clearly enjoying the sight of your immobilized womanly beauty. His hands reach out to pull on the ropes, caressing your skin, even digging into your hair. Beneath his touch, you're like a desperate creature, unable to prevent his exploring. His hands even digging into you and eventually find their way to your breasts, where they almost touch them, so close... But then he moves on, smoothly patting you everywhere else except where you want him the most... Surely he must know what he's doing to you, how horny you are, how his show of dominance makes you feel? Tryton continues for a while until he asks: "Would you like to be free, pet? Or do you want relief...?" His straightforward question hangs in the air. Indeed, it is beginning to be uncomfortable, but you feel an impossibly strong built-up sexual tension that demands satisfaction, demands release... With a whisper, you... [[Beg him to fuck you...]] [[Tell him you want to be free...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_fucked_by_tryton to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">With a whisper, you tell him: "Please, sir, lower me down and set me free..." And to your surprise, he complies, lowering you down on the mat. [[Tryton begins untying you.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">The burst of relief floods your nerves and your muscles spasm uncontrollably from the roaring orgasm, simply from Tryton's fingers. But he doesn't stop. Instead, he slides in a third finger, widening you even more. Your orgasm extends, like an ocean wave that just increases in size as it gets closer to the shore. Your mind is on nothing but your pussy, and the release you get from pushing yourself deeper onto his fingers as he fucks you. There's nothing you can do to prevent him either, in the bound position you find yourself, and the feeling strangely enhances your horniness even further. Just when you think you can't take any more, he stops, but only for a tiny moment. You can feel him throwing his robes away, and in a single smooth motion grabs you by your waist, and forces himself inside of you with his cock. The need to prepare your pussy with three fingers becomes clear now that he's inside of you, the thickness and length of his shaft penetrates you, and he takes you roughly. Helplessly, you allow it, willingly letting him ravage you and satisfy himself on you as you continue feasting on the delicious orgasms that keep rocking your body with every thrust he makes. You lose all sense of time when Tryton fucks you. In a crescendo, you cum a final time, just when you feel him reaching his own orgasm. He grunts, thrusting into you firmly, pressing your suspended body against him. You can't help but feel that it was over far too soon, when you feel his member bursting, spilling his seeds inside of you. Slowly, he pulls away, catching his breath. You're raw and sweating, with your muscles spasming, when he's done. Tryton takes a moment to compose himself, even puts his robes back on, in no hurry to lower you down or remove the ropes. Not that you mind, you're completely spent and it actually feels nice to just hang here, without a care in the world... Eventually, he lowers you down on the mat. [[Tryton begins untying you.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_spicy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">The soft wool of the mat greets you, face first, as Tryton carefully lowers you down. Then your breasts, belly and thighs follow, finally accompanied by your knees. The world is spinning, but you quickly realize it's only in your head, as you remain firmly tied onto the mat. Then, the tension of the ropes keeping you suspended disappears completely from all three points, allowing you to fully breathe out and relax. Meanwhile, Tryton begins opening the knots, pulling the rope against your skin in reverse order to what he did when tying you up. Slowly, you regain some measure of freedom of movement when the ropes disappear, one by one. As the ropes disappear, it's as if the world around you begins to dissolve, the intensity of the moment gradually fading. You've been so deeply absorbed, so utterly connected to Tryton's touch and the rope, that the boundaries of your physical self seemed to have blurred. But now, when you regain your freedom, something shifts. Your limbs begin to stir. The heavy, almost numb sensation starts to lift, as though a veil is being pulled away. There's a strange, almost disorienting lightness that follows - an unfamiliar buoyancy that creeps into your muscles and joints. You feel it first in your fingers, a tingling warmth that spreads like a slow, gentle tide. Your arms follow, then your legs, as the sensation blossoms into a full-body awareness. It's an intoxicating buzz, this return to yourself. A wave of euphoria washes over you, the kind that leaves you feeling like you've been hit with a surge of pure, undiluted joy. The emotions that had held you captive, intense and consuming, now seem to release all at once, leaving you almost giddy in their wake. There's a lightness in your chest, an expansive feeling that you're not just happy - you're blissed out, floating in a cloud of warm, radiant contentment. For a moment, you're not entirely sure if you're still lying on the solid floor and the soft mat, or if you've somehow lifted off, carried by this overwhelming rush. It's like being high, but not in the way of substances - this is a natural high, one crafted purely by the culmination of emotions, of being so deeply connected to something beyond yourself. It's a rare, strange kind of ecstasy, where even the dimly lit room you find yourself in seems brighter, and lighter, and everything is bathed in a soft, golden glow. [[Tryton removes the final rope.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">When the final rope is removed, you regain control of your arms, and it feels very strange to suddenly be able to move them and your hands. To touch the mat. Your throat is dry when you push yourself up to a sitting position, and your arms and legs are shaking. Tryton helpfully brings your clothes to you, letting you dress yourself slowly, at your own pace. "Relax, Taru. You did well, perfect even. I'll bring some water." Tryton says, and leaves the room. Eventually, you manage to pull up your underwear and hook your bra, then wrap the black robes you've borrowed around you. But your legs refuse to buckle, as if you've lost the ability to walk. It's then that Tryton returns, handing you a pewter mug of water. When you tentatively accept it, you almost drop it, for your hands are weak and still shaking uncontrollably. Tryton sits down next to you on the mat, patiently waiting as you sip on your water. The look he's giving you is kind, warm. "How do you feel?" he queries, carefully studying your expression. You take another mouthful of water, allowing you some time to think... [[You feel extremely good. You enjoyed this.|feel good]] [[You feel good, but you do not want to experience this again.|feel good]] [[You're unsure what you're feeling.|feel bad]] [[You feel this was necessary to demonstrate trust between you - but that's it.|feel bad]] [[You don't feel good at all. This was a mistake.|feel bad]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He nods at your words. "Good, I'm glad you showed me that you trust me. With your life, in a way. Now, I feel I can do the same." Tryton says. Suddenly, you feel floodgates opening from within you and you burst out crying. You have no idea why, but you can't stop the tears from falling. Tryton calmly places an arm around you, hugging you tightly, waiting for you to work through whatever it is you're feeling. You find yourself asking... [["Is this normal?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">He nods at your words. "I understand. But I'm glad you showed me that you trust me. With your life, in a way. Now, I feel I can do the same." Tryton says. Suddenly, you feel floodgates opening from within you and you burst out crying. You have no idea why, but you can't stop the tears from falling. Tryton calmly places an arm around you, hugging you tightly, waiting for you to work through whatever it is you're feeling. You find yourself asking... [["Is this normal?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_downbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">When you arrive at the kitchen, you notice that Tryton's servant is already there, preparing a stew. You sit across from Tryton at the small, sturdy wooden table, the warmth of the fire from the servant's cooking seeping into your skin, mingling with the residual heat from your intimate moment with Tryton earlier. The room smells of spiced broth and meat, an oddly comforting scent in the midst of this strange, unsettling place. Soon, Tryton's servant places a steaming bowl of stew in front of you and Tryton, the rich aroma wafting up as she steps back silently. Then she backs away, leaving the two of you alone. You can't help but notice Tryton's watchful gaze as he takes a sip from his bowl, his eyes never leaving yours. As you pick up your spoon, your hands still trembling slightly, you find yourself keenly aware of his presence. His every movement deliberate, every glance meaningful. You take a first careful taste of the stew. The meal is simple yet hearty, a stark contrast to the intensity that still lingers in the air between you. A moment later, Tryton asks: "Do you know what emergence is?" His question sounds unfamiliar to you. As in, something appearing? "Emergence? No, doesn't ring a bell." you admit, still focusing entirely on your stew. Tryton does the same, enjoying the rich broth. Then, he explains: "Emergence is a philosophic theory proposed by some scholars. How something seemingly simple, trivial even, can in sufficient numbers achieve a new level of consciousness, awareness or complexity." His explanation demands an example, you feel, and luckily he adds: "Think of a nest of ants. Individually, they aren't impressive, capable of anything at all really. But when you have countless of them in a nest, they form a functioning whole that is much bigger than the individual ant." "It isn't far from us humans in Valkama, isn't it? We are but cogs in the bigger entity that is civilization, society and the history of humankind. Together, we have achieved greatness such as engineering, the arts, and much more." Alright, sure, you get it now. "Ok, so many simple things forming something more complex. What's that got to do with anything?" [[Tryton explains.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">"Well, some radical scholars claim that you and I, and every other creature alive, are also a result of emergence." he begins. Silently, you raise an eyebrow. "They claim we're made out of tiny grains of cosmic dust, each with a unique role to fill - like ants in a nest. Some are warriors, some are workers. So it is with the grains of dust filling us, flowing through our blood. Tiny building blocks that make us who we are." The thought sounds ridiculous. You can clearly see that you aren't built from tiny dust particles. "Sounds like horseshit to me." you conclude, chewing on another mouthful of stew. "Indeed, it sounds wild. Well, there's no evidence for such a thing, and as such we can safely dismiss it as wild speculation." Tryton still hasn't explained what any of this is relevant to your discussion about The Abyss. But finally, he explains: "There is, however, some evidence to suggest that The Abyss is a result of emergence. If you can call the research of an ancient civilization as evidence, that is." he begins. "According to the texts here at the Doom Clock, creation itself is formed of matter and antimatter. The antimatter represented the discarded building blocks of creation - byproducts of the Gods' relentless forging of reality." "Alone, the grains of antimatter, a sort of dark energy in contrast to the visible light energy you and I can see, are nothing. Their influence negligible. But as time passed, they were drawn together, forming concentrated pockets all across the cosmos. From within those pockets, with enough time, nascent awarenesses were born. There are countless entities like Astorolus, alive even though they shouldn't be." [[You can't help but stare at Tryton as he paints a bleak image of the universe.]]

<<silently>> <<$ch4_tryton_helps_with_piru to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">You've come to the conclusion that Tryton is an expert when it comes to the abyss, and probably nothing more. You might have better chances of breaking the pledge with Piru another way. The two of you spend a moment discussing The Abyss, before you deem your own clothes dry enough to comfortably change into. Then, you leave the Doom Clock, promising to return when you're ready to learn more. [[Leave the Doom Clock.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">"Back to your mother again... She tried to eradicate the cult, the same that kidnapped you, from the city? The fanatics that worship The Abyss for the wrong reasons?" you nod, confirming that he understood correctly. "And then she just... Swam into the ocean, and was killed by sharks? It doesn't make any sense." he concludes, scratching his head. Well, it's an odd story, but the demon was under oath to tell nothing but the truth regarding the pledge... Or was he? Maybe you should've listened to your mother a bit more when she was still alive... Is there a possibility the demon hasn't been telling you the whole truth? "It sounds like she killed herself. I'm just curious why she would do such a thing. Did something compel her? Force her?" he asks, not to you, but to himself. "If she was at war with the cult... What if they harnessed the power of The Abyss, and fed her soul to it? A husk of her former self, she might've chosen to end things on her own terms after that?" To you it sounds like wild speculation, but oddly specific. "It sounds like you've seen it before... Husks." "Having your soul consumed doesn't necessarily mean your body dies. But what's left is just a shell of your former self." Tryton explains, then adds: "That gives me an idea though... If your mother's soul has been consumed by Astorolus, then we should be able to sense a trace of her in the void. We cannot help her, sadly. Once you cross that threshold there's no going back. But... We could confirm her fate, if you wish." His words sink in, hooking into strong emotions you didn't know you still had in you. To be able to sense your mother, a final time, just for a fleeting moment... The thought leaves you breathless, feeling like a lost child in the cruel world again. A feeling you shrugged away years ago, out of necessity. To survive, physically and mentally, the pain of the loss. But it all comes creeping back in now, an old wound opened. [[You'd like that. A final connection with your mother.]] [[Some things are better to avoid revisiting...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_mother_not_in_abyss to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">Tryton nods, then offers his hand to you. "I won't let your mind wander into the void: You're not strong enough. Take my hand and think about your mother. Let the memory of her fill you. I will traverse the void, see if I can find her soul." Tryton explains. Tentatively, you place your hand into Tryton's over the kitchen table. He squeezes gently, then closes his eyes. Memories of your mother, Tyrni, begin drifting into your mind like ghosts from a distance past. The years have dulled their edges. Some of the details have faded, but certain moments stand out with an almost painful clarity. Valkama - bustling, chaotic, alive - was your playground. The city's narrow streets, winding alleys, and towering stone buildings were a labyrinth you and your mother navigated together. You remember the way her hand felt in yours, strong and warm, guiding you through the thick crowds of people. Valkama was a city of millions, yet when you were with her, the world seemed small, almost intimate. A memory floats to the surface. You were young, perhaps six or seven, your small hand gripping hers as she led you through the marketplace. The scent of spiced meats, fresh bread, and the sharp tang of the sea mixed with the earthy smell of wet stone. It had just rained, and the cobblestones were slick underfoot. You recall the vibrant colors of the stalls, the shouts of vendors hawking their wares, the jostling crowds. But what you remember most was the way your mother laughed as she bought you a candied apple. It was a rare treat, the glossy red coating catching the light as she handed it to you. The sweetness exploded on your tongue, and for a moment, everything else faded away. But those moments of joy were often followed by long stretches of absence. Tyrni would disappear for days, without explanation. You learned quickly not to ask where she went, for she never answered your questions when you asked. Her return was always met with a tight hug and a tired smile, but the shadows under her eyes grew darker with each absence. You could see something weighed heavily on her, a burden she never shared, not even with you. There were times when you caught a glimpse of something darker. A flash of fear in her eyes, quickly masked, or the way her hands would tremble slightly after one of her long absences. You didn't understand it as a child, but now you know what it was that tired her so - her eternal battle with the cult, and probably her pledge to Piru as well. You remember the nights when she would sit by the window, staring out into the darkness, her face a mask of quiet contemplation. The room would be lit by a single candle, its flame flickering in the draft that slipped through the cracked windowpanes. You would sit beside her, wordlessly, sensing that she was somewhere else entirely, lost in thoughts you could never reach. There were whispers about her, too - neighbors and passersby muttering about the woman with the dark eyes and the strange aura. Some called her a mystic, others a witch. You didn't understand what they meant back then, but you knew your mother was different. She had a presence that was both comforting and unsettling. When she spoke to you of the world, it was with a knowledge that seemed to come from somewhere deep and ancient, as if she carried the weight of countless lives within her. "Good. I have enough to go on. Let me see..." Tryton says, interrupting your thoughts. [[Quietly observe Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">"I think it's best we avoid that. It's too painful..." you conclude, hardening yourself once more. The two of you spend a moment discussing The Abyss, before you deem your own clothes dry enough to comfortably change into. Then, you leave the Doom Clock, promising to return when you're ready to learn more. [[Leave the Doom Clock.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/CORRIDOR_TOMB.png">The way through the darkness of the tunnel and crypt doesn't feel nearly as oppressing this time. When you reach the massive stone that blocks the entrance, and place your hand upon its rough surface, it comes alive. Slowly, it rolls to the side, revealing the way back into the garden. Finally, you've made it out into the still-rainy Inner Gardens of Valkama. But you do not dare to stay here. Wordlessly, you make your way through the gardens, away from the Doom Clock. With luck, divine intervention or skill, or a combination of all three, you make it to the edge of the gardens without encountering any guard patrols. The single guard positioned at the entrance doesn't seem to be paying attention when you slip past him, or it... As blind as they are deaf? Well, no matter. Even in this rain, people are still filling the streets of Valkama, but you are not planning to walk amongst the common folk. No, you have your grappling hook. And so you find yourself once again back on the familiar rooftops, your highway to anywhere. No crowds here. [[Head back to your new hideout.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_astorolus">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">At first, nothing seems to happen. He's holding your hands, his warmth seeping into your fingers. His eyes are closed and he's breathing calmly, without saying a word. Eventually, a sudden creeping chill seems to seep from his skin. His hands, clasping yours, become icy and firm, their grip steady but growing colder by the second, as if the warmth of life has slowly been drained from them. Tryton's face shifts subtly. His calm expression deepens into something more profound, more unsettling. The lines of his face harden, and his brow furrows, not with strain, but with a focus so intense it seems to pull the very air toward him. His lips press together in a thin line, and a faint shadow passes over his features, as though something unseen, something vast and unfathomable, is stirring just beneath the surface of his skin. The air around him changes, becoming darker, more oppressive. It feels as if the very room is bent inward, drawn toward the void that Tryton is now connected to. The air thickens, carrying a weight that presses down on your chest, making each breath feel heavier, more labored. His presence feels like a riptide, threatening to drag you into depths you cannot fathom. The cold intensifies, spreading from his hands to your arms, seeping into your bones. It's a cold that feels ancient, not just the absence of heat, but the presence of something far more chilling. You've felt this before. The unmistakable presence of Astorolus, The Fathomless Hunger. Tryton's face is distorted, and there's a tightening around his eyes, a twitch at the corner of his mouth, betraying the strain of his search. His breathing slows, becoming shallow, as if he's delving deeper into the Abyss with each passing moment, his soul stretching out, seeking your mother's tormented and consumed soul. Minutes tick by, each one heavier than the last. The room around you fades, leaving only the cold, the darkness, and the distant, hollow echo of Tryton's presence as he wanders the Abyss, searching for something that evades his grasp. You can feel his frustration, his desperation, in the way his grip on your hands tightens ever so slightly, the only sign that somewhere deep within, Tryton is struggling against the vast, indifferent void. [[Tryton painfully pulls your hands forward!|He pulls your hands.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_downbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">You're shocked by the sudden pull. For a moment, it feels like you're about to be drawn into the freezing void that has stirred awake within Tryton. But then he gasps and opens his eyes, panting for air. The warmth of the room returns in an instant, but Tryton's skin remains cold. Slowly, he lets go of your hands and takes a moment to compose himself. There are deep red marks on your wrists, where his hands touched yours. He must've paid a visit to the void before, because his servant quickly enters the room, throwing a thick blanket around him as he sits on the chair by the kitchen table, gasping for air like a fish out of water. Clearly, he's in no condition to answer any questions just yet, so you let him slowly calm down. Eventually, his usual calm returns, but he wraps the blanket around him tightly. "Well, one thing's for sure. Your mother's soul is not in the void." He finally says, sounding thoroughly confident in his assessment. "It's... Not? How can you be sure..?" Tryton shakes his head, tired to his very core. "I searched far and wide, Taru. Further than I've ever dared venture. She's not there, I'm certain of it." Then he coughs, like his throat is dry. Once again, his servant is by his side, offering what you realize is a mug of hot mulled wine. The strong spirits fill the room as he imbibes the content. You're more confused than before, however. What does it mean, that your mother's soul isn't the abyss? What's for sure is that she didn't die at the hands of the cultists. Or at least, they didn't manage to trap her soul. You ask Tryton... [[What does it mean?]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/KITCHEN.png">Your question is met by a shrug, and a loud slurping sound as Tryton drinks the hot mulled wine, hugging the mug tightly in both hands. "It means... That I have no idea what happened to your mother. But if you get a chance, I'd ask that infernal patron of yours. He must know more than he's telling you." Tryton says, exhaustion in his voice. His servant helps him up from the chair. "Excuse me, Taru, but I need to insist we continue these discussions another day. You know the way out..." he says as he stands up, dismissing you with a tired wave of his hand. Right. Well, you'll return when you're ready for your first lessons, and when he's had a chance to recover from the ordeal. You wait a while longer, alone in the kitchen, until your own clothes are dry enough to comfortably change into. You double-check that all your possessions are with you. And then you... [[Leave the Doom Clock.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/ROPE_ROOM.png">A strange sensation of being cold creeps in, like the warmth of the room has disappeared. "Quite. What you experienced is a very strong emotional high. What you're feeling now is the drop, the high slowly fading away, leaving behind emptiness." Tryton explains, his arm tightly pressed around you. "You're going to be fine. I promise. I'm here for you, whatever you need." he continues, his voice soothing. Your first and foremost feeling right now is confusion. You find yourself unable to connect your feelings to what just happened. You also feel a strange sadness, but due to your confusion you can't seem to put a pin on why you're feeling sad. And to top it all off, you feel small and vulnerable, even when you're no longer bound by ropes. These emotions you explain, to the best of your ability, to Tryton, who nods understandingly, offering his reassurances. ... Very slowly, surely half an hour later, you finally feel strong enough to take a deep breath and attempt to stand up. Tryton helps you, but you wave his hands away. You've got this. "Well... Shall we get to work?" you announce, not quite feeling ready to tackle something as complex as The Abyss and all of the other parts of your life that have gone to shit. "If you're feeling ready, sure. Let's discuss this over a hot meal, shall we?" He gestures for you to follow, and on your way out, he flicks the switch connected to the valves, casting the room back into a deep darkness. Like he's hiding a secret. A secret you now know very intimately. [[Follow Tryton to the kitchen.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_helped_leena to false>> <<set $ch5_branded to false>> <<set $ch5_fight to false>> <<set $ch5_harsh_punishment to false>> <<set $ch5_no_options to false>> <<set $ch5_mean_sex to false>> <<set $ch5_pledge_to_seal_abyss to false>> <<set $ch5_new_assassin to false>> <<set $ch5_dominate_lady_gan to false>> <<set $ch5_defy_mistress to false>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> <<set $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding to true>> <</if>> <</if>> <<if ndef $QIDDemonPledge_t9>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t9 to "You overheard servants talking in the infernal realm. Apparently, the original writ of the pact holds power over your pledge. Stealing it might be the way to break your pact.">> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 5 - An Infernal Summit</h4>As you walk through the corridor, the walls begin to warp and twist, narrowing and expanding unpredictably, as if the space itself is alive and breathing. Shadows dance in the corners of your vision, flickering shapes that vanish the moment you try to focus on them. Strange symbols glow faintly on the walls, shifting and changing as you pass, their meanings beyond your comprehension. Further ahead, distorted doorways appear and vanish like mirages, each offering an end to the corridor, but always fleeting. The air grows thicker with each step, filled with a low, incessant hum that reverberates through your bones, as if the corridor itself is whispering secrets meant for your ears only. Finally, what feels like an eternity later, you make it through the corridor into a massive hall. The room is lined with row after row of strange devices, teeming with solid metallic bars, rusty iron hooks, and strong chains and manacles. To your dismay, some of the devices are occupied by what appears to be dead people, their flesh ripped from their bones by the hooks, their bodies eviscerated by blades. And still their macabre corpses adorn the hall, like statues, held up by the metallic bars, chains and manacles. Disgusted, you try your best to avert your eyes as you quickly rush through the corridor. <<if $ch2_furious_woman_alive is true>>[[That's when you hear a faint cough...]]<<else>>[[You reach the end of the hall.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">The sound comes from one of the devices right next to you. Reluctantly, you turn, only to hear the corpse right next to you cough again. Not a corpse after all. But a woman, alive... In shock, you see the torture inflicted on her by the device. A massive spear has been thrust up from below between her legs, straight through her body, with the blade of spear protruding out of her mouth. Her cheeks have been split open by the width of the spear, the flesh hanging loosely down her chin. She is covered in blood, even more flowing down her chest as she coughs a third time, helplessly staring at the ceiling. She's held in place by metallic bars, pinning her legs and chest between rows of steel, allowing her practically no movement. Her legs and arms are chained to the bars, her arms locked between three additional metallic bars behind her back. For a moment, you can't help but wonder how the woman is still alive. But then you remember Piru's words: That every wound heals in his realm. So, this is what the demon is capable of, if you cross him? An eternity of agony, unable to die? What did this woman do to deserve this? There's nothing you can do for her, and you'd rather not witness this nightmare longer, but something keeps you there. Staring at her. Why does she look familiar? Have you seen her before..? Her darker skin marks her as someone not native to Jaerwik... [[A rusty metallic screech interrupts your thoughts.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">"You must be Taru." A new voice sharply observes. You glance around, trying to see where the voice comes from. A tall woman stands in front of you, a book in her left hand, a quill tucked away behind her ear. She has short red hair, and fiery orange eyes. Her pale skin reveals she hasn't seen sunlight for years. She's wearing a long red and transparent silk dress that reveals everything. Underneath she's wearing black, expensive-looking underwear and a matching bra. She has wide hips, and large breasts. She looks confident, imposing even, but can't be more than three decades old, you reckon. You find yourself nodding, stunned by her sudden appearance before you. "Well, I can see why Piru wanted you in his collection. You're simply delicious, aren't you?" She muses, clearly not expecting an answer. Instead, she looks you up and down. Clearly satisfied with what she sees, she then adds: "Follow me." [[With no better ideas, you decide to follow the woman.|Scramble to your feet and follow the woman.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_helped_leena to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">"I'd love to chat. Except I don't. Good luck. May our paths never cross again..." you say, walking away from the tortured woman. "She'll put you in your place too, bitch..." she calls out behind you. Her laughter echoes in the hall as you make your way to the other side. Who is she talking about? Nevermind that... [[You reach the end of the hall.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">She might've attacked you, thinking it was justified at the time. Still a crazy bitch though, but you're curious... "By the gods, look at you... What the hell are you doing here? I mean, first of all in Piru's realm, but more importantly that... Thing." you wave you hand at the torture device pinning her in place. She coughs up blood, a smile on her lips. "Could bloody well ask you the same question... About Piru's realm, I mean. Something went tits up in your life too, huh, sought help from daddy devil?" She seems awfully cheerful for someone stuck in a torture device in a demon's realm... "Something like that. But you... Last time I saw you, you were eating dirt outside Donkey's Drum Inn. What happened to you?" You query, raising an eyebrow. She scoffs, but then the expression on her face relaxes a moment. "Long story... Name's Leena, by the way. What's yours? And do you want the long version or the short?" she says, awaiting your reply. "Name's Taru." You say to her, then add... [["Long version. I've got time."]] [["Short version. Can't keep Piru waiting too long..."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">She nods, a relieved smile on her face. The small act of kindness, of choosing to listen to her full story, seems like tiny a small thing compared to the trouble she finds herself in now. "Long version it is, Taru. Well... " Leena takes a deep breath and begins, her voice flat but edged with bitterness. "When Gareth and I came to Valkama, I was so full of hope." Leena starts, her voice barely above a whisper, rough and raw as if scraped against stone. "We thought we could make a life here: build something beautiful together, something that would last. At first, it seemed like we were on the right path. We had each other, we had enough coin to get by, and I believed that was enough." She pauses, and for a moment, a faint, bitter smile tugs at her lips, quickly replaced by a deep, aching sadness. "But Gareth... he wasn't who I thought he was. He started disappearing at night, coming back in the early hours with that smug grin on his face and the smell of perfume that wasn't mine. I was naive. I wanted to trust him, to believe the lies he fed me. He'd tell me he was out on business, making deals to secure our future. But deep down, I knew something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones." Her eyes, glossy with unshed tears, look up, searching your face as if seeking understanding or forgiveness. "When I found out about Astrid... It broke something inside of me, and I lashed out... And after... I tried to hold on. I told myself that Gareth had learned from his mistakes... But it was only the tip of the iceberg." Her voice wavers, but she pushes on, the words spilling out faster now, as if she needs to get them out before she loses the courage. "There were others. So many others. Women whose names I never knew. Some who were my friends. I don't understand why I didn't walk out sooner... In the end, Gareth took everything from us: Our savings, our security and he spent it all on his affairs, his pleasures. He was never satisfied, always looking for more, always taking more. And when I finally had enough, when I realized he would never change... I mustered the courage to tell him I wanted a divorce. And he laughed." The bitterness in her voice is like a blade, sharp and cutting, and her face hardens, lips pressing into a thin line. "He called me a fool. Told me I was lucky he hadn't left me in the streets, that he'd never be satisfied with just one woman. It was like... Like I was nothing to him... Nothing but a convenience, a placeholder while he chased whatever caught his eye. I'd never felt so humiliated, so utterly worthless." You're silently listening to her story, watching her with new eyes. [[A single tear escapes down her cheek, before she continues her story.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">She nods. "Short version it is, Taru. Well... " Leena takes a deep breath and begins, her voice flat but edged with bitterness. "I came to Valkama with Gareth, full of dreams. We thought we'd build a life together. But Gareth... he was a liar. He cheated on me, over and over, with so many women. Astrid was just one that I found out about. He took all our money, left me with nothing, and when I confronted him, he laughed in my face. Told me I wasn't enough for him." She pauses, swallowing hard, obvious in both physical pain from the torture she's endured, but also pained by the memories. "I was desperate, angry. I wanted him to suffer, to feel the pain he caused me. That's when Piru came to me, offering vengeance. He promised Gareth would suffer, and he did. I watched him die, saw the pain on his face... and for a moment, it felt good. But it didn't last. The emptiness didn't go away." Leena's expression darkens, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Piru promised me more: Companionship, protection, wealth. I thought he could fill the void Gareth left. But it was a lie. He's a demon, Taru, and demons don't give without taking something in return. When I didn't obey, he punished me. Hurt me. Now I'm trapped in his grasp, suffering more than I ever did with Gareth..." It's clear she means a more profound suffering than merely this latest predicament she finds herself in. Leena's words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of her choices and the inescapable consequences they've wrought. She hangs suspended on the metallic bars of the torture device, a broken woman lost in her own regrets, her face a mask of pain and longing for a redemption that seems forever out of reach. The silence that fills the massive hall invites a response from you. After a moment's consideration, you say... [["I'm sorry, Leena. No one should suffer like you did."]] [["Looks like you got what you deserved."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">Your words of kindness are like a beacon of light in the darkness of her misery. "Thank you Taru... But you... How did you end up here?" She asks. You explain your deal with the demon, the cult, the betrayed and the deal he proposed. Somehow, you find it easy to relate to this woman, who is practically in the same situation as you. There are many similarities with your stories, although the circumstances that brought you here are quite different. When you're finished, Leena coughs up more blood. "Sounds like you and I are both royally fucked... And look... I'm sorry for what happened at the Inn. About your friend. You didn't catch me at my best... Not that this meeting represents my best either..." She comments, a tired smile on her lips. For a moment, she hesitates, like she's struggling with something. Then, she says: "I hate to ask for a favor... But could you release me from this device, preferably before the spear impales me again..?" She asks, a hopeless look on her face. You glance in the direction she's looking. A small glowing circle, which you somehow hadn't noticed before, hangs suspended in the air. It reeks of infernal magic. "A light touch is all that's needed... Please..." She explains, suddenly desperately seeking a way out. She's gone from hopeless and accepting her place, to suddenly feeling hope again. "Won't that put you in even more trouble with Piru? And me?" you ask, approaching the circle, eyeing Leena with uncertainty. She attempts a shrug and says: "There's nothing he can do to me that he hasn't done already..." She says. "But it's early days for you. It sounds like he's wanted to add you to his collection for quite some time. I doubt he'd be too angry with you..." She concludes. She may, or may not, have a point there. The tiny glowing circle right next to the torture device is in front of you. All you have to do is reach out and lightly touch it... [[Decide it's too risky. You don't want to anger Piru.]] [[You're not afraid of Piru. Touch the circle.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">Your words are cold, hard, calculated. This woman would've killed Astrid. Would've killed you, given the chance. Rather than facing reality, confronting Gareth earlier and just leaving him. You've listened to her story, but that's as much as you'll do. You have your own problems to deal with, and it looks like she got what she deserved. Leena's sad expression twists to an angry glare at your words. "I see you have a heart of stone, just like Piru. Go suck your masters cock, bitch. The two of you are made for each-other..." She spits in your direction, her defiance landing inches from your feet. You've had enough of this... [[Leave her to her misery. She doesn't deserve more of your attention.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">She looks away, like she's ashamed of her own pain. "I didn't know what to do, where to turn. I was alone in this city, without friends, without family. I wanted to hurt him, to make him pay for what he'd done to me, to us. That's when Piru came to me, offering a way out, a chance to reclaim my dignity, my future. Myself." Her voice lowers, taking on a darker, almost reverent tone, her eyes narrowing as she recalls the deal. "Piru promised me vengeance. He showed me visions of Gareth suffering, of him begging for mercy that would never come. I wanted it so badly. I wanted Gareth to feel every bit of the pain he'd caused me, to know what it felt like to be broken and abandoned. And Piru... he delivered. Gareth died screaming, his body twisted in agony. I watched it happen, felt the satisfaction of his pain coursing through me like a dark river." Her body begins to tremble from rage at the memory of Gareth, but only for a moment. Then a calm settles over her, of acceptance, or indifference. "But it wasn't enough. The satisfaction was fleeting, hollow. The emptiness inside me didn't go away... It just grew. I thought Piru could fill it, that he could give me something, anything, to replace what I'd lost. He promised companionship, protection, wealth... Things I thought I needed. And I was desperate enough to believe him." Still she looks away, her face twisting with a mix of shame and regret, unable to meet your gaze. "At first, he was... Kind, in his own way. He made me feel special, important. I was his favored one, his companion. Or so he told me. But it wasn't real. None of it was real. He was just playing with me, using me like a pawn in some twisted game. When I started to resist, to question him, to seek a way out of the deal, he showed me who he really was. He hurt me, Taru. He hurt me in ways I can't even describe." Her voice breaks, and for a moment, she closes her eyes, as if trying to block out the memories. "I tried to get away, to break free of his control, but I couldn't figure out how... It seems there's no escaping an archdemon once you've pledged yourself to him. Now I'm trapped in his web, a puppet on his strings. Every day is a new nightmare, a new torment. And Gareth... Gareth is gone, but I'm still here, still suffering..." She opens her eyes, and you can see the depth of her despair, the hollow emptiness that consumes her from within. "I don't know how to escape this. I don't know if I can. But I can't keep going like this, Taru. I can't keep living in this hell. If I could go back, if I could undo everything... I would. In a heartbeat. But it's too late for that now, isn't it?" Leena's words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of her choices and the inescapable consequences they've wrought. She hangs suspended on the metallic bars of the torture device, a broken woman lost in her own regrets, her face a mask of pain and longing for a redemption that seems forever out of reach. The silence that fills the massive hall invites a response from you. After a moment's consideration, you say... [["I'm sorry, Leena. No one should suffer like you did."]] [["Looks like you got what you deserved."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_helped_leena to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">"Goodbye, Leena. But may our paths never cross again..." you say, walking away from the tortured woman. "She'll put you in your place too, bitch..." she calls out behind you. Her laughter echoes in the hall as you make your way to the other side. Who is she talking about? Nevermind that... [[You reach the end of the hall.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">"Sorry... It's not worth the risk..." Your words come out colder than you anticipated. You've listened to her story, but that's as much as you'll do. You have your own problems to deal with, and you don't want to anger Piru. Leena's hopeful expression twists to an angry glare at your words. "I see you have a heart of stone, just like Piru. Go suck your masters cock, bitch. The two of you are made for each-other..." She spits in your direction, her defiance landing inches from your feet. You've had enough of this... [[Leave her to her misery.|Leave her to her misery. She doesn't deserve more of your attention.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_helped_leena to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">You tell yourself that you aren't afraid of Piru, maybe even lying to yourself a little bit. Then you reach out, your fingers gently brushing against the magical floating circle in front of you. It's warm, radiating heat through your body as you extend your hand. In an instant, you're pulled into it, everything around you disappearing in an infernal hellfire of light. It feels like your body is pulled apart, but the sensation ends as abruptly as it began. Confused, you blink, trying to get your bearings. You're still in Piru's realm, and upon further inspection you realize you haven't even left the massive hall. Confused, you attempt to take a step, only to realize you're suspended between metallic bars... Horror fills you when you glance down, realizing you're completely immobile. There's a bar behind and in front of your knees, and your ankles are chained to two pillars to the side below you, keeping your legs apart. There's a bar below your chest, which presses you firmly onto another bar behind the small of your back. Your arms are behind your back, locked between two additional metallic bars, and your hands are chained to the pillars just like your legs. Two final metallic bars, one behind you just at your shoulders, and another in front of you resting against your throat, complete your bondage. You're too shocked, too stunned, to fully realize what's happened. [[Desperately, you thrash against your sudden devices, panic filling your chest.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">Desperately, you thrash against your sudden devices, panic filling your chest. "Oh, silly me. Should've realized it would do that... Oh well. Thanks Taru, and good luck!" Leena's voice says apologetically, but as you glance around to see her standing in front of you - with her full freedom - you notice the smile on her lips. The bitch lied to you! You can see it in her eyes... She knew this would happen. "You... Why would you... Get me out of this right now!" You shout, like a raised voice would help you get your point across. But Leena simply shakes her head. "I've got a lot of unfinished business in the mortal realm, silly. You just hang in there, alright? But really, thank you. I'll say a prayer for you before bedtime. Morjens!" And with those words, she turns around, waving her hand. "Get back here, lying sack of shit!" You scream after her, trying your best to break the chains and bend the bars keeping you in place. But nothing works. "Please..." your last plead is ignored, just like your screams, as Leena disappears into a fiery portal right before your eyes. If you weren't too occupied with your own problems, you might've wondered how she was able to conjure a portal herself, and why she didn't just portal her way out of this device in the first place. An infernal binding magic keeping her in the realm while tied to the device, maybe? But none of these thoughts enter your mind. No, instead you throw yourself against the device, trying to wiggle your way out, trying to topple it, or break it. But nothing works. The damned bars are digging into your flesh, barely softened by your clothes. The massive hall of torture devices is suddenly eerily quiet. The only sound you hear is your shallow breaths and your beating heart. [[Scream for help, from anyway...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">You can't take the silence. The wait. You know exactly what this device is capable of, and you'd rather avoid that fate if at all possible. You scream at the top of your lungs, at first for anyone who would listen, but then for Piru specifically, begging him for forgiveness for freeing the bitch Leena. But silence is your only reply. After minutes of screaming, your throat is coarse and dry, your shouts barely whispers. Defeated, you slump down, held in place by the metallic bars. How could you be so stupid... Fall for her sob-story, only to be trapped here instead of her? Fucking stupid. Classic, even. It seems every decision you make just puts you in deeper trouble. Your thoughts are interrupted by a metallic grinding sound, somewhere around you. No... Below you. You can't see anything, but you have a pretty good idea... You're more terrified than you've ever felt in your life, suspended helplessly between the metallic bars, legs forcefully kept spread wide like this... Then, you hear a loud snap, like a crossbow being fired. "No!" is all you have time to scream before your insides burst, the spear almost splitting you in half as it travels through your body from between your legs, through the entire length of your body. You vomit buckets of blood before the spear reaches your throat, bursting out through your mouth. You pass out instantly. [[...|wake after torture]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">It's a nightmare, surely it must be. That didn't just happen... Somewhere, your consciousness stirs awake, clinging to the empty darkness of your thoughts, in a desperate attempt not to return to your destroyed body. But the shell beckons you, demands you return to it, and so with a fit of panic you find yourself drifting back into your tortured body, out of the blissful emptiness you escaped to. You cough, but it's a pointless gesture. Something is wrong. No. Everything is wrong. You should not be alive. No one should be alive in this state. And yet, you are. You can feel your ruptured kidney, ruined pancreas, punctured lungs, impaled liver, crushed heart and of course your destroyed vulva, vagina and asshole. Not to mention your throat, or mouth slip open by the spear. The spear, which even now impales you, the blade protruding from your mouth slowly dripping your blood back down onto your face as you helplessly hang there on the bars and the spear, unable to move an inch even if you had the capacity to do so. As it is, you're unable to control any part of your body, but still you cling to consciousness as you stare at the obsidian ceiling of the hall. You cough again, a reflex from your lungs, trying to clear the blood filling them. The pain is indescribable, making it impossible to think of anything else. You desperately want to pass out, to escape this living hell, but you cannot. [[Minutes go by, and all you can do it cough up blood as the spear continues to impale you.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">You have no idea how long you remain impaled by the spear, but just when you're beginning to feel whole again, like your lungs aren't filled by blood, a metallic screeching startles you. Then, just like it did with Leena, the spear is pulled back down, freshly splitting up all of your organs on the way out. The fresh pain snaps you wide awake in agony, and you can't help but throw up blood again. With clenched teeth, you hang there on the bars, your whole body shaking. Then, you feel your flesh physically mending from the demonic magic of the realm, healing your split mouth and throat so that you can swallow. Slowly, you can feel a sense of self returning to you as your body corrects itself. "You're not Leena." A new voice sharply observes. Feeling nauseous and lost, you glance around, trying to see where the voice comes from. A tall woman stands in front of you, a book in her left hand, a quill tucked away behind her ear. She has short red hair, and fiery orange eyes. Her pale skin reveals she hasn't seen sunlight for years. She's wearing a long red and transparent silk dress that reveals everything. Underneath she's wearing black, expensive-looking underwear and a matching bra. She has wide hips, and large breasts. She looks confident, imposing even, but can't be more than three decades old, you reckon. "I'm talking to you." She says, snapping her finger. A surge of adrenaline rushes through your body in an instant. Any feeling of tiredness or confusion disappears as whatever magic she wields forces you to pay attention to her. "Good. That's better. You look familiar. You wouldn't happen to be Taru?" She asks. You find yourself nodding, still unable to speak. "Well, I can see why Piru wanted you in his collection. A bit of a rebel, aren't you?" She muses, clearly not expecting an answer this time. "I'll deal with Leena soon enough, don't worry about that. But you... You're lucky Piru is expecting you. And growing rather impatient, too." She reveals. Then, with a snap of her fingers, you fall to the ground, all metallic bars keeping you bound suddenly disappearing. [[You land awkwardly at her feet, painfully on your knees.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">In horror, you witness as the spear is pulled back down through her, by some sort of mechanical contraption, leaving a fresh trail of blood in its wake. Her head slumps down, no longer pinned by the spear. In stunned silence, you witness her split cheeks mending before your very eyes, curling up on their own and sealing the flesh in infernal flames and smoke. Until no proof of the wound remains. It is then she raises her head, her body still pinned between the bars of the device, and locks you with her gaze. Those eyes. That look.... "You..." She says, then bursts into laughter, a hollow, maniacal laughter that chills your very bones. "Fucking cunt..." Her laughs come to a stop as she coughs up blood, clearly not fully healed on the inside yet. There's no doubt about it. You recognize her, even though it's been months. It's the woman who attacked Astrid and you with a broken wine bottle, outside the Donkey's Drum Inn. Gareth's crazy wife. You never did catch her name though, did you? What the literal hell is she doing here!? "Still mad about Gareth, are you?" you retort at her snarky remark. She seems confused and disoriented for a moment, but then she looks at you again. "Huh? No, wasn't talking to you. Got bigger problems, you see..." she attempts a shrug, barely managing to lift her shoulders half an inch. Well, if she isn't mad at you, then who is she calling a cunt here? And why should you care anyway, when all she's done for you is try to kill you and your friend? [[Leave her to her misery. She doesn't deserve your attention.]] [[Ask her what she's going here, in Piru's realm...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">The two of you continue out through the hall, to another long corridor. There's an air of confidence about her. Like she owns this place. But that can't possibly be true, for isn't this Piru's realm? "Sorry but... Who are you?" you finally ask, genuinely curious. She has her back to you as she leads you through the corridor, book still in hand. Upon further inspection, you notice the cover is made from thick bloody skin. Disgusting yellow human teeth are lining the spine of the book. And the quill tucked behind her ear... It looks like one of those skeletal finger quills that Piru used when signing your pact. "I suppose a formal introduction is in order. I am Lady Gan. The Splendor Demon Majesty's first concubine. You, however, will address me as Mistress, as befits your place as a lesser servant of Piru." You stare at her.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> She's a concubine, like you.<</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> No doubt her face is too precious to do any real work, like you as Piru's assassin...<</if>> "Do I make myself clear?" She adds, a sharp tone to her voice. The teeth on the spine of the book seem to shift, as if they want nothing more than to bite your face off. Well, she clearly thinks she's someone important here... <<if $ch5_helped_leena is true>>The torture in the hall is all too fresh in your memory, and without thinking, you find yourself meekly saying...<<else>>She clearly expects you to show submissiveness. And maybe that would be best. You don't want any trouble, after all. Finally, you say...<</if>> [["Yes, Mistress..."]] <<if $ch5_helped_leena is false>>[["Understood. But I'm not calling you Mistress."]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_branded to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">She's clearly pleased with your display of submissiveness. "Good. I think you'll fit right in." She muses, leading you further down the corridor. [[Follow her further down the corridor.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">She stops dead in her tracks, then turns around, opening the book. She wields her skeletal quill like a weapon. "A need for punishment, clearly. I'm marking this down, as a reminder..." She begins writing. A searing pain consumes you, a splitting headache as invisible knives dig into your forehead, carving her words in your skin. "Ah, fuck!" you shout, falling to your knees, clawing at your face. Blood is flowing down into your eyes, and the smell of burning flesh - your flesh - fills your nostrils. "There. Branded. Piru will deal with you as he sees fit. Would you want another reminder, insect? Maybe I should strap you to one of the torture devices in the hall you walked through. Show you your place." Your thoughts are a mess, but anger is what you feel primarily right now. Clearly, this Lady Gan is not to be messed with. Shit... "While you're down there, lick my feet clean with your tongue and say how sorry you are for being you." She commands. "I just might erase your branding before Piru sees it." Slowly, you look up. The wound on your forehead has been burned shut, the blood no longer dripping down your face. She's serious, isn't she? Her bare feet are standing provocatively on the obsidian floor of the corridor, her silk dress pulled ever so slightly to the side to reveal both of her feet. You might just have to do this, if you wish to avoid angering Piru... After an inner struggle, you... [[Crawl over and dutifully lick her feet clean.]] [[Defiantly stand up, giving her the finger while you're at it.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_branded to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">You realize she's got the upper hand, and with a resigned humiliation, you crawl over on all fours until you reach her feet. Then you lower your head, until her bare feet are right in front of you. For a moment, you hesitate, then take a determined first lick across the bridge of her foot. You don't dare to take a look up, but you imagine she's smirking down at you. Your tongue passes down, over her toes, then you repeat the process on her other foot. "Between the toes. And under the foot." she instructs. Without pause, you spear her toes with your tongue, the taste of ashes from Piru's realm filling your mouth. Then she lifts up her foot, allowing you access to underneath the ball, sole and heel of her foot. You repeat the licking on her other foot, spitting out small stones, and sand. "Aren't you forgetting something?" she asks, when you're finished. Right... "I'm sorry, for being so stupid..." You manage to whisper as you push yourself up to a standing position. Her face lights up as she gives you a warm smile. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" She says, then crosses out the page in her book. Immediately, you feel a spilling headache again, but this time no blood flows down your face. "So, do you understand your place now?" She asks, repeating her question from before. Fine... The bitch wins this time, when you say: [["Yes, Mistress..."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_branded to true>> <<set $ch5_defy_mistress to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">"I'd tell you to go to hell, bitch, but we're already there." you tell her when you stand up, showing her the universal hand gesture for fucking off. She simply smiles at you. "Do you get a kick from being in pain, I wonder? Curious. Well, we shall see. Right now we have more important matters to attend." She reveals, slamming the book shut. Then she continues down the hall, expecting you to follow. [[Follow her further down the corridor.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch4/PIRU_CORRIDOR.png">After a while, you ask: "Why was I summoned here today? Where is Piru?" She doesn't answer at first, but as you stop in front of a massive intricately carved dark wooden door, she turns to face you. "The Piru demanded your presence today, at the Summit of the Archdemons. Whatever you do, don't speak unless spoken to. Piru might see you as a plaything he enjoys punishing for fun, but the other archdemons certainly won't suffer an insult." Her hasty explanation bombards you. Summit? Archdemons - as in... "Wait... You're talking about Tulikor, Varjatar, the whole lot?" Lady Gan's eyebrow rises up a tiny bit. "I see you're familiar with the highest archdemons. To answer your question: Yes, they're all present. Try to keep your wit about you, and do whatever is asked of you, regardless who does the asking. You're less than ant here, remember that." With those words, she takes a step to the side, waving you towards the door. "Go on. You've kept Piru waiting far too long..." She instructs. Suddenly you're feeling a bit overwhelmed. This wasn't part of the pact... Handling one unpredictable archdemon is already barely what you're capable of. Now you're expected to walk into a room full of them? For what purpose? When you hesitate, Lady Gan sighs loudly, and opens the door for you. Still you're frozen on the spot, unable to take your trembling legs over the threshold into the unknown. [[Lady Gan shoves you inside.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/INFERNAL_SUMMIT.png">With the forceful encouragement by Lady Gan, you finally step into the room. It is a vast hall that feels more like an abyssal chasm than a room. The air is thick with the stench of brimstone and sulfur, and a low, resonant hum vibrates through the stone beneath your feet, almost like the hall itself is breathing. The ceiling arches impossibly high above, lost in darkness, where jagged stalactites hang like the fangs of some enormous, unseen beast. The walls are made of a strange, dark stone that seems to absorb light rather than reflect it, and they pulse with a faint, eerie red glow that shifts and pulses like a heartbeat. At the far end of the hall, five thrones, which are all slightly different in size, of blackened iron and stone rise up in a half-circle from the ground, each one enormous, dwarfing even the tallest of mortal buildings. The archdemons are seated upon them, towering figures that loom a hundred times taller than you, their forms flickering and wavering as though barely contained by their physical shapes. Piru, the Slendor Demon Majesty, sits with his familiar arrogant ease, his form shifting between a figure of terrible beauty and a horrific visage. Piru sits on the smallest throne, but even that is taller than any building you've seen in Valkama. He has taken on a terrifyingly large form, making you feel like an ant indeed. Next to him, on the second smallest throne, must be the 4th archdemon Rautmar, the Bringer of Desolation. He is a massive silhouette of darkness, his presence seeming to draw in all light, leaving a void that feels as though it could swallow the world whole. Third you see who must be Varjatar, the Enchantress of the Infernal Realm, reclined with a serpentine grace, her many arms weaving intricate patterns in the air that shimmer with malevolent sorcery. On the second biggest throne sits Kaarnel, the Harbinger of Deceit, still and silent, his shadowy form shifting and changing, as if every angle reveals a new deception. At the center, on the biggest throne, sits Tulikor, the Lord of Perdition. His throne is wreathed in flames that burn with a searing white heat, his eyes like burning coals that pierce through the darkness, radiating an aura of unyielding power. The room feels alive with their presence, each archdemon's power palpable, a force that presses against your skin, fills your lungs with every breath, and weighs on your very soul. They speak in low, rumbling tones, their voices like the grinding of ancient stones, discussing something that sends ripples of unease through the air itself — but you do not understand the language. The shadows around them twist and writhe, almost as if reacting to their words, the very fabric of reality straining against the weight of their dark deliberations. [[Overwhelmed, you simply stare at the figures.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/INFERNAL_SUMMIT.png">They haven't noticed you, and a good thing too, because you've never felt so insignificant in your life. Your silently staring is interrupted by the sound of the wooded door closing behind you, and someone grabbing your arm in theirs. "Come on, you're expected..." A man's voice whispers. In the darkness, you cannot see any features, like the man himself is but a shadow. He guides you, a strong grasp of your arm, towards the far end of the room. Despite the distance, you arrive in mere moments, suddenly standing on an illuminated stone platform made from the whitest ivory. The platform rises ever upward, the edges disappear into dark nothingness all around you. The man has disappeared, leaving you alone on the platform. Then it comes to a sudden stop, and disappears. The ground beneath you shimmers and reflects the infernal flames of Tulikor's throne, like you're standing on a thin sheet of glass that stretches endlessly in all directions. Above you in the sky of darkness are the five demons, paying no attention to the happenings below, still locked in an infernal discussion that you do not understand. Their voices rattle the very bones in your body. "Don't just stand there. Take your position!" The same voice instructs you, pulling you toward Piru. Protesting seems pointless, and so you let him lead you to the end of a row of people, all standing silently. "There. Don't move." he instructs, then disappears in a cloud of smoke. Startled, you glance around at the others. They all look like normal people, from all walks of life. A beggar here, a noble there. Someone who looks like a mercenary. And you. There must be a dozen of you. [[Once again you wonder what the hell you're doing here, but decide to stay quiet and observe.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">Without instructions, you feel like you're lost, unable to understand what they're doing. There are no tables, no chairs, nothing to sit on or eat from. Just shelves upon shelves of food, and the people. When the servants kneel down in the strangest positions you've ever seen, it all becomes clear. Six women interlock their arms and legs, their backs forming a surface that functions as a massive table. Other servants place a massive sheet of glass on top of them, then begin to fill it with plates of food and carafes of wine. Ten men form pairs around the table, kneeling and straining their arms and legs. Their bodies twist, taking on a shape that resembles a chair. Other servants place cushions on the surface that appears to be the human chair's sitting surface. All this happens in a coordinated instant, and couldn't have taken more than a few seconds. The hairs on your back rise and you realize you're standing alone in the corner, witnessing it all, but not helping one bit. That's when the archdemons appear, tiny compared to their towering forms from earlier. Now they appear human in size, appearing from smoke around the table. Without a word, they take their seats around the table, no doubt crushing the poor men struggling below them. When their masters appear, the servants rush in, offering delicacies to their lords. Your eyes go to Piru, who accepts a goblet of wine from one of the servants. His gaze finds yours, and he smiles, waving his finger your way, beckoning you to him. [[Compelled by the pact, you cannot refuse.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">Slowly, you approach the feasting archdemons, trying your best not to meet their eyes. Varjatar especially seems very interested in you, pinning you with her gaze. But you ignore her as you focus on the obsidian floor in front of your feet, until you reach Piru's side. <<if $ch5_branded is true>>"Someone's been naughty..." He whispers to you as you get close, grinning like the devil he is at your bloodied forehead. "... We'll return to that, be sure." he adds, dismissing the topic for now. <</if>>Piru eyes his archdemonic companions and demands their attention by clinking his glass with a bone spoon. "Ah, my esteemed and infernal colleagues! Pray lend me your most rapt attention as I introduce to this august gathering the singular presence of Taru, offspring of the formidable Tyrni herself!" Piru announces loudly. Many servants stop in their tracks, staring at you after the announcement. Clearly, your mother's name resonates in these circles... Just what sort of mess did she get herself into, and more importantly, what mess are you in? The stunned servants quickly continue pampering their demonic lords. "I wouldn't mind having her served as a dish." Varjatar smirks, her hair moving like serpents with each word. She smiles, showing a row of razor sharp teeth. Tulikor, King of demons, seems completely unimpressed and doesn't even seem to be paying attention to the conversation. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>"So, how's her cunt? Sweet and tight?" Rautmar asks with a laugh, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Piru shrugs. "Ah, but as a gentleman of certain refinement, I'm hardly one to engage in such vulgar indiscretions as to kiss and tell, hmm?" he replies, then spanks you hard with the palm of his hand on your left buttock. Your cheeks are blushing crimson, radiating with humiliation. This is all too surreal... <</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"How's she with the toothpick?" Kaarnel asks, clearly talking about the infernal bone dagger in your belt. "Decent enough, I suppose. One mustn't grumble over such trifles." Piru replies, then drinks a mouthful of wine.<</if>> [[Varjatar eyes you curiously.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">"I propose a wager. My newest toy, against yours. Last toy standing wins." Kaarnel says, summoning one of his servants with a wave of his hand. A massive hulking figure, clad entirely in steel armor, appears next to him. The figure's features are hidden behind a helmet. It carries a massive bastard sword, which it casually carries over its shoulder. "Surely, Deceiver, you jest! Did I not regale you with tales of Taru's profound importance?" Piru asks dramatically, waving his goblet in Kaarnel's direction like a weapon. What importance is he talking about...? "Oh, you did. And that is why I need to see it, to believe it." Kaarnel insists. See what? Throughout this, no one asks you for your opinion, and so you keep it to yourself. They're talking about a duel. You against the imposing mass of steel. Could you take it on? He or she, there's no telling... Surely, their armor is tiring to walk around in all day? All you need to do is stay out of reach of their massive sword - more easily said than done - and let the infernal bone dagger do the rest. After a moment, you silently decide that yeah, you probably could defeat them in combat. "Ah, but who am I to decline a most amiable wager? Especially when the odds, dear friends, seem tipped so generously in my favor. Now then, pray tell - what prize do you propose we set upon this little game?" Piru asks, smiling with confidence at his demonic rival. Kaarnel laughs: "Whoever wins gets a slice of the others realm. Let's say... A third..." Varjatar lets out a dramatic gasp, and even Rautmar looks shocked at the ludicrous proposal. Tulikor, however, doesn't react in any way. When you glance down at Piru, sitting on his human chair to your left, you see a wicked smile on his lips. "Ah, a marvelous proposition, indeed! I find myself quite agreeable to the terms. However, I must first confer with my mortal blade, for you see, our accord does not extend to these otherworldly feats of might and madness." [[Piru stands up and pulls you to the side, away from the table of gathered archdemons.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">A smile creeps up her lips at your words. "My, oh my! Tyrni's daughter indeed, through and through. You do look a lot like your mother, I must say." Varjatar muses. The darkness in her eyes seems to twist and swirl, mesmerizing you. You can feel your knees growing weak as you drink in the swirling blackness of her gaze... Piru's hand appears in front of you, breaking your sight to Varjatar. Whatever possessed you breaks as you snap out of it, feeling confused. "Play nice, Enchantress." Piru comments, lowering his hand, allowing you to once again look at Varjatar. She laughs and dismisses his concerns with a wave of her hand, saying: "She was practically begging for my embrace." She gives you a final wink. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Kaarnel clears his throat.|assassin path]]<<else>>[[Tulikor scoffs, demanding everyone's attention.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">"She looks weak. And dull in the brain. Are you, girl, weak and dull?" Varjatar demands an answer, directing her question directly at you. When you glance at Piru for guidance on how to approach this, he looks thoroughly uninterested, instead focusing on the delicate food on his plate. With a dry throat, and Lady Gan's words of warning echoing in your head, you say... [['"I am neither weak, nor dull, your excellence."'|answer varjatar]] [['"I suppose as a mortal, I am both of these things compared to you, your highness."'|answer varjatar]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">The room becomes quiet as the King of demons speaks: "Aka tet riir kak paas. Ror keey lle meei, sis miik sus kuut seen ouuk kook ppu huui, Piru." The oldest and most fearsome of demons says, his voice demanding everyone's attention. Tulikor's demonic language he speaks echoes in the chamber, with a voice impossible to ignore, for when you hear you, you must obey. It's clear he is impatient, demanding an answer from Piru. Whatever was said, Piru clears his throat nervously, nodding to his not-quite-father of a demon. "Ah, illustrious Tulikor, cunning Kaarnel, enchanting Varjatar, and desolate Rautmar. Gather close and lend your ears. I summoned you to this most infernal of summits, to present to you a means, a wondrous opportunity, to cast off the lingering shadow of the Old Poison. To cleanse the mortal realm of its abyssal taint. Envision this: wandering among the mortal spheres unshackled by the dark whispers of its influence. An era where we stride upon the mortal plane as Gods. Unchallenged. Imagine it! Our dearest queen-mother, may she rest in peace, beholding such triumph, her gaze alight with the grandeur of our ascension! And in the process, finally bringing a definitive closure to what we once began, all those eons past. An end, my esteemed companions, to the tragic saga of The Fathomless Hunger." Piru's smile is wide, but he appears slightly nervous. He has, however, certainly managed to capture the attention of his companions. Varjatar and Rautmar especially look intrigued, whilst Kaarnel looks more reserved. Tulikor's demeanor has returned to its typical self, a look of utter boredom on his face. "Her." Piru concludes, waving a dramatic hand in your direction. The sudden attention from all five archdemons, and their servants, makes you uncomfortable<<if $ch5_fight is true>>, for the second time already<</if>>. Varjatar raises a questioning eyebrow. "Her?" she asks. <<if $ch5_fight is true>>"She is formidable with her blade, for sure, but...<</if>>"We're talking about an eldritch being here. Not a beast that can be slain." she adds. Rautmar too shakes his head, pointing directly at you with his thick index finger. <<if $ch5_branded is true>>"Just how would an insubordinate pet like her possibly be of any help in that regard?" he asks, clearly talking about your burnt and brandished forehead, marking you as a disobedient servant...<<else>>"Just how would she be of any help in that regard?" he asks.<</if>> [[End of the current unofficial public version]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">"Well then, dear Taru, a decision must be made. I, for one, am brimming with confidence that you and your blade shall make quick work of his champion. A word of advice though: Expect something to be afoot with his champion. Kaarnel is a known trickster." Piru says. Then he adds: <<if $ch5_branded is true>>"Given your minor indiscretion with Mistress Gan... I shall not take no for an answer. But I will consider it forgotten."<<else>>"It is well within your rights to refuse, my dear, for indeed, our pact compels no such obligation to dispatch a being from beyond. However, do take heed - such a refusal would be a slight most grievous, and as our accord dictates, an insult not without its repercussions."<</if>> <<if $ch5_branded is true>>It looks like you have no choice. "My punishment... Is a duel to the death, against a fully armored hulking mass of steel?" you ask, just to clarify the absurdity of what he's saying. When he shrugs, like there's some cosmic law preventing him from altering these conditions, you sigh, then say...<<else>>It looks like you don't actually have a real choice here, do you? Refuse and not even the Gods know what he'll do to you for refusing. Accept, and you have to fight a fully armored hulking mass of steel. You consider carefully, before you say...<</if>> [["Fine. I'll do it."]] <<if $ch5_branded is false>>[["I refuse. This is not what I signed up for..."]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/TULIKOR_REALM.png">The human table and chairs appear in Tulikor's realm, together with the lavish food and all the servants. A glance around you reveals that Tulikor's realm is a cataclysmic expanse of unrelenting fire and molten fury. The sky roils with a searing orange and crimson haze, as though the very air is ablaze, swirling in chaotic torrents of flame. Massive, jagged peaks of obsidian thrust upward, their blackened surfaces occasionally illuminated by eruptions of incandescent lava that cascade down their sides. Rivers of molten rock snake through the landscape, their blistering heat warping the very air above them, creating mirages of swirling flames and shifting shadows. The ground is a fractured, churning sea of volcanic ash and smoldering embers. The constant roar of flames and the crackle of burning earth create a cacophonous symphony of torment, while the oppressive heat presses down with a palpable weight, making every breath a struggle against the infernal environment. It only reminds you a little bit of Piru's realm. If anything, Piru's domain is like the smoldering remains of a bonfire, while Tulikor's realm is a wildfire out of control. Kaarnel's champion glances around the demonic hellfire around him, just like you are. Then, a small platform rises from the molten ground you're standing on, forming an arena for you and your opponent. He wastes no time as he steps up, lifting his bastard sword in front of him. "A small note, dear Taru, just a minor detail really: Should you perish here, it's a permanent affair. My realm's lovely healing magics will be quite out of reach and inadequate. Off you go! And do try to enjoy yourself, hmm?" Piru says, nudging you toward the center of the platform. Wait.. What? Suddenly, there's no backing down and you aren't feeling so confident anymore, despite the Piru's power surging through your veins. Kaarnel's fully armored champion stands waiting, You shake your head. Focus, Taru... So, Kaarnel's champion has tricks up their sleeve, is that how it's going to be? Fine. You take a relaxed stance, and draw your infernal bone dagger, holding it casually behind your back as you circle into position on the platform. The champion tracks your movement, his helmet following you as you take your position. "Oh, ravage me, please! Look at her smoldering confidence!" Varjatar squeals with delight, seeing you settle into a fighting stance. But you ignore her. You're not going to be distracted. No. This fight demands your full attention, of this you have no doubt. [[Rautmar shouts: "Begin!"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/TULIKOR_REALM.png">Somehow, you're still caught off-guard when the champion dashes your way, closing the distance faster than you thought was possible in such heavy armor. They swing their sword, attempting to put a quick end to the fight by severing your head. However, the swing is inaccurate, like he's drunk or something. <<if $ch5_helped_leena is true>>Your insides feel completely healed already, the trauma of being impaled on the torture device's spear a distant memory...<</if>> Your demonic instincts kick in, allowing you to easily dodge underneath the blade, confused by the wildly inaccurate strike. But, you quickly focus on the task at hand. When you dodge their strike, you simultaneously attempt to stab them in the weak point of their armor just around the right knee. But they leap to one side, flinging their body gracefully through the air. They land heavily a few feet away, their armor clinking and rattling from the impact. Well, that's the first trick right there... But your heightened demonic senses allow you to easy keep track of the champion's movements, despite their impressive speed. But there's no time to think, as they dash your way again, this time attempting to thrust the bastard sword through your chest. Once again, the strike feels oddly uncoordinated. With your heightened senses, you easily dodge their sword, taking a step toward them. Simultaneously, you brush the blade to the side with your forearm, your demonic senses deflecting the blade by its blunt side away from you. The champion hisses at you, a strange guttural sound that doesn't seem human. But you're inside their guard now, and the crowd of servants gasps, even those carrying the table, when your blade finds its target, piercing their neck just below the helmet, in one of the few unprotected places offered by the armor. The crowd grows silent as the champion falls to the ground, and you allow yourself a sigh of relief. That was almost too easy, even though he was much faster than you anticipated... But his swings somehow lacked the skill and finesse you expected. You're about to walk away, but stop when you notice the stern expression on all five archdemons. Well, on everyone except Kaarnel, who is smiling instead. You can hear steel being bent, breaking, being torn apart behind you. When you turn to take a look, the armored figure is gone. In their stead stands a beast unlike you've ever seen before. Only vaguely humanoid, this hulking figure is covered in scales, spitting venom from its mouth as it screeches loudly. Huge fangs adorn the mouth of its lizard-like head, and its twin tails whip ominously behind it, lashing out to all sides like they have a will of their own. It looks like a twisted abomination, a cross between a lizard, a shark and a monkey. It charges at you, screaming... <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "Before you stands an abomination, a cross between a lizard, a shark and a monkey. Venom drips from its mouth, and its razor-sharp claws promise a swift death to anyone getting too close. Its twin tails lash out, keeping you at a distance. Surely, it has a weakness, like every creature...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "After Tulikor Realm Combat">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Defeat the beast (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl3">><</link>><<else>><<link "Defeat the beast (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/TULIKOR_REALM.png">You expertly dodge its enraged attacks, leading it in circles around the platform. But it gains threshold, its fangs finding your flesh when you aren't careful enough, its trails lashing out, drawing blood. With a triumphant scream, you manage to sever one of its tails as it lashes out, forcing the beast back a step. When it retaliates and jumps at you, as you expected, you throw yourself to the ground, trusting that the infernal bone dagger will find a weakness. With your borrowed demonic might, you thrust the blade upward. And it connects. The blade, with a will on its own, guides your hand the final inches, as the beast tumbles over you, the blade instantly slinking into its heart where its skin is the softest. The beast falls, pulling the dagger with it. The beast and your dagger tumble down the platform, falling into a pool of molten magma. The hiss and stench of burning flesh and scales fills the air. Exhausted, you slump down, catching your breath. Holy balls of hellfire... What the fuck was that thing... Tulikor waves his hand, sending the whole party back into Piru's realm, where everyone except the archdemons appear shaken by what they witnessed. The women carrying the table are visibly shaking, and the men acting as chairs have turned their attention to you. The smoldering carcass of the beast is lying on the obsidian floor, the only reminder of battle that took place. A single enthusiastically clapping archdemon fills the room with her approval. "Simply marvelous! What a performance, wouldn't you say Kaarnel? Shame about your beast though..." Varjatar says as she walks over to the dead beast, before pushing it to its back with her stiletto shoe. She reaches for the dagger, eyeing it suspiciously. "Oohh... I see you played dirty too, Piru..." she says, smiling viciously as she walks up to you, dagger in hand. Piru neither confirms nor denies her statement, instead choosing to silently smirk in Kaarnel's direction. "A cheat! I knew it!" Kaarnel accuses, then bursts into laughter, adding: "Watch out, everyone, Piru may yet steal my title from me!" And laughs even more. Rautmar silently nods his approval in your direction. [[Varjatar offers you a hand.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">You're exhausted, tired after the deadly dance with Kaarnel's abomination. Varjatar extends one of her six arms to you. And so you accept the Enchantress's hand, allowing her to pull you up. Her touch is colder than ice, and as she helps you up, her thoughts enter your mind. "I'd be delighted to take you under my wing, sweet child of Tyrni. Should you tire of your current master..." Her words burrow into your skull, wordlessly echoing inside of you, like fingers poking their way through your brain. With a gasp of pain, you pull free from her touch, and her probing thoughts leave your mind. With a smile, she hands you your infernal bone dagger, and whispers in your ear: "Take good care of it, little one..." Her voice is soft, like a gentle kiss for your ears, a stark contrast to her ice cold touch and probing thoughts. But Piru interrupts Varjatar, demanding you return to his side immediately. You can feel the pull of his will as he silently instructs you to disengage from the dangerous Enchantress. It takes all your willpower, but you manage to do so, but whisper back to her as you walk away: "I will..." Then you return to Piru, standing on his right side, like the loyal servant you are. Varjatar sits back on her human chair, a fresh glass of wine casually in her hand. "Truly impressive, Taru. I can see Piru was right about you." Rautmar says as you return to the table. You choose to politely nod your head, still feeling quite overwhelmed. Slowly, Piru's infernal power leaves you, and the sudden lack of demonic senses leaves you feeling empty. Inferior. Like a lesser version of yourself. "Well, I would almost call that cheating..." Kaarnel begins. "Likewise." Piru injects. "... But I yield to the victor. You shall have a portion of my realm, Piru, as promised." To this, Piru dramatically bows his head, acknowledging the superiority of his mortal blade, you. [[Tulikor scoffs, demanding everyone's attention.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_fight to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">Piru smiles. "Ah, splendid! Now, do remain perfectly still, won't you? I shall bestow upon you a taste of my own strength for the trial ahead..." With those words, he leans close, placing his hand behind your neck, drawing you close to him until your faces are almost touching. His breath is warm and thick as smoke, surrounding you, until you can no longer breathe. Choking and coughing, you fall to your knees, gasping for air. Then, the smoke clears, and you finally manage to take a deep breath of air. Something feels off. Very off. When you scramble to your feet, you see everything differently. It's like a liquid fire is coursing through your veins, burning away any weakness. The sensation is overwhelming - your muscles tense with newfound strength, your senses sharpen to a razor's edge. Every nerve tingles with energy, almost painfully alive, as if the very essence of Piru is weaving itself into your being. Your heartbeat quickens, each thud echoing in your ears like a war drum. There's a heady mix of exhilaration and fear of the sheer raw power you now feel pulsing within you, tempered by the dread of knowing it's not your own. It feels as though you could leap to the heavens or tear the very ground beneath you. Piru looks delighted at the results. "Ah, there we are! All set and ready. Now, off you go - expand my realm, won't you?" With those words, the two of you return to the table. Kaarnel's champion takes a step forward, but you're interrupted by Tulikor, who suddenly raises his hand. Everyone stops what they're doing, waiting for the King of archdemons to speak. "Unn miin anni ass unn taak vaal." he says. His demonic words echo in the room, demanding to be obeyed, whatever it is he said. Piru looks like he's about to protest, but swallows whatever words he had planned, instead saying: "Very well, Tulikor, your realm it shall be." [[Then a massive portal from below swallows everyone.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_branded to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">But Piru does not look amused. In a flash, a searing pain consumes you, a splitting headache as invisible knives dig into your forehead, carving words in your skin. "Ah, fuck!" you shout, falling to your knees, clawing at your face. Blood is flowing down into your eyes, and the smell of burning flesh - your flesh - fills your nostrils. Slowly, you look up. The wound on your forehead has been burned shut, the blood no longer dripping down your face. "Hurt, I hope? It was your right to refuse, of course... Just as it is mine to ensure refusal is properly punished. Flaunt that mark with disgrace until your real punishment is meted out. I shall not tolerate an insult." He says as you scramble back on your feet, with a lingering pain in your forehead. You're reminded of just who you've signed a pact with in that moment. He is not your friend. He is a demon, who could make your life a literal hell in a heartbeat... But he doesn't wait for a reply from you, expecting no words. Instead, he returns to the table held up by six kneeling women, sitting down on his human chair amongst his fellow archdemons. That could easily be you, you realize, under the table. For now, you're allowed your freedoms, but how long will that last if you do not show respect... As you return to the table, standing next to Piru with a freshly branded forehead, he says: "Ah, it seems the lass is either weary or defiant. One can hardly predict the whims of such maidens, can one? Your wager, Kaarnel, must be deferred for the time being, or cast aside entirely." The demon, Kaarnel, looks disappointed as he waves his champion away. "You should tighten your leash on your pet, Piru." Varjatar muses, to which both Kaarnel and Rautmar vigorously nod their heads. "I would cut off her hands and tongue for an insult like that." Rautmar adds. The playful mood around the table has turned sour and dark, as they all look at you with disgust. For whatever reason, you simply stand there, unable to speak in your defense... "Surely she must count herself fortunate to have me as her master rather than you, Rautmar. But, she is but a fledgling in our midst and ought not be held to the same high standard as our more seasoned pets. Yet, do not doubt, she shall indeed face her due reckoning." [[Tulikor scoffs, demanding everyone's attention.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/DEMONIC_HALL.png">"Look at you. Such a pathetic mess. Ugh... Fine. Let's do something about your ruined outfit..." With a wave of her hand, warmth surrounds you, and you can feel your clothes mending, seeing the blood disappearing from the fabric. For a while, you simply sit there on the floor, trying to gather your strength, your thoughts, yourself. You feel hollow, like the spear has gutted you like a fish, pulled out half of your intestines. There's a lingering searing, gnawing agony that seems to burrow inward with every shallow breath you take. Your skin feels clammy and cold. Each heartbeat sends a shock of raw pain reverberating through your body. You try to focus, to push past the haze, but the ache makes your vision swim. Every movement sends a sharp, stabbing jolt through your core, as if the wound is trying to tear itself open further. Your hands instinctively press against your belly, trying to hold yourself together, to keep the pain at bay, but it's relentless, a throbbing reminder of your fragility. The woman calmly waits, without saying a word, as you sit there in agony. Slowly, the pain fades away, becoming little more than a common stomach ache. And still, you sit there, not wanting to stand up. But it seems that the woman has had enough, as she suddenly says: "Follow me." Her words demand to be respected, and you steel yourself. You feel almost normal again. Almost. No point feeling sorry for yourself, for being fooled by Leena. When you see that bitch... Anger fuels you, giving you strength to stand up. [[Scramble to your feet and follow the woman.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_thief">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/SUMMIT_TABLE.png">The discussion above rumbles on for a moment, until an agreement of sorts seems to have been made. Then, the five towering figures disappear in an instant, and the glass floor becomes solid obsidian. Walls appear all around the room. Shelves filled with a lavish feast appear along all the walls of the room, out of nowhere. They stretch all around the room, filled with a lavish feast that seems almost impossible in its abundance and variety. Platters of gleaming silver and gold are heaped high with roasted meats - succulent boar, plump pheasant, and tender lamb, their skins crisp and glistening with honeyed glaze. The aroma is intoxicating, a rich, heady blend of spices and slow-roasted fat that fills the air, mingling with the scent of the demons' power. Between the meats, bowls overflow with fresh fruits and vegetables, their colors vivid against the muted stone of the shelves. Ruby-red pomegranates split open to reveal their jewel-like seeds, glistening with juice; golden peaches, plump and velvety, glisten as though dusted with morning dew; deep-purple figs, soft and ripe, rest beside piles of emerald-green grapes that spill over the edges of their bowls. Silver goblets, encrusted with gems and filigree, are filled with rich, dark wines that shimmer like liquid garnet. Flagons of golden mead sit beside them, their surfaces sweating with cold, frothy nectar threatening to spill over. Pitchers of sweet ales and dark, potent brews stand ready, the scent of hops and barley mingling with the more delicate fragrances of honey and herbs. Everywhere you look, there are delicacies to tempt the senses: platters of fine cheeses, creamy and pungent, sit beside baskets of warm, crusty bread. Pies and tarts, their flaky crusts dusted with sugar, ooze with rich fillings of spiced fruits and nuts. The shelves are a riot of textures and colors, each dish more lavish than the last, creating a feast fit for gods - or demons. Suddenly, there's movement, as everyone scrambles to action. People from all across the room begin taking things from the shelves. Groups of people belonging to the other archdemons, and Piru's, coordinate together. They clearly know what they're doing, as they begin pouring wine into carafes and picking plates full of delicates. But none of them eat or drink, instead they assume positions around the room. [[Stunned, you witness the chaos.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0069.png">Slowly, you enter back into the corridor. Then, carefully glancing around, you proceed to cautiously sneak to the other side. An eerie silence fills the halls as you silently pass the dead cultist and your cell, all the way to the other side. The corner is clear, empty from cultists. Good. That means no one heard your escape, and you have a much better chance of getting out of here alive. Piru is silent, clearly happy with the direction you've taken. A banging sound startles you, causing you to draw your infernal bone dagger. Another bang. Soft. Nearby. You realize it must be coming from the nearby cell, its door locked. "Were I in your boots, sweet Taru, I'd be inclined to stroll past that cell without so much as a second glance." Piru's whispering voice echoes in your head. He's right, of course. You need to take care of yourself. Still, shouldn't you help out a fellow prisoner in need? They might even help you escape. [[Ignore Piru's advice - open the cell.]] [[Listen to Piru - keep on walking.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0071.png">Piru promised he'd guide you out of here, and right now he is guiding you to ignore this cell. You choose to respect his wishes, and leave the cell door unopened. You pass a corner, revealing yet another corridor. A dimly lit, damp, and narrow passage opens up into a sparsely lit exhibition hall of some sort. It has an expensive-looking red carpet, at least a hundred feet long, filling the hall from one end to the other. Dozens of fine paintings hang from the walls, their motifs abstract, swirling and dark. Some of them seem to beckon you to touch them, promising oblivion in the nightmares they depict. Statues of sea creatures are spread out evenly throughout the corridor, great octopuses, even a massive whale. It stands out as beautifully carved, a calm creature here in the dark corridor, oddly soothing. For just a moment, you find yourself staring up at the large whale statue, almost hearing its sorrowful song echoing around you. [[A shout startles you!|you are spotted]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0070.png">For all you know, it could be Kerr, trapped here just like you. No, you need to investigate this. Ignoring Piru's advice, you sneak over and slot the cultist guard's key into the lock. A rusty metallic click later, the door opens, revealing a cell identical to yours. It's dark, without a single window. When you peek inside, you notice an old man standing in the corner, wearing expensive-looking clothes. He has his back turned to you, seemingly unaware of your presence. The source of the banging sound becomes clear when he suddenly smashes his head against the stone wall, hard enough to split skin and draw blood with a sickening crunch. "What the hell..." you gasp, not believing your eyes. "Nothing here for you..." Piru's voice in your head reminds you. The old man doesn't turn around, even as blood begins to drip onto his shoulders and sleeves, ruining his fine gold-embroidered clothes. In stunned silence, you take a step out of the room when the old man once again smashes his head into the wall, painting the stones red with his blood. [[Just then, a shout startles you!|you are spotted]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "theme_song">> <</silently>><img class="coverimage" src="img/cover.png">This is the end of the current unofficial public build of Taru's Infernal Pledge. You can go back 1 passage, save your game and import it to the latest official version of the game, available in itch. For the latest version, check the game's official page: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/tarus-infernal-pledge Stay tuned for more updates, follow me on itch: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/ Link to game's discord: https://discord.gg/zyP8qgsDzk Cheers, FlimsyLegs