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 - v0.9.0pub</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. NOTE: This is an unofficial public build of Taru's Infernal Pledge. The latest versions can be found on itch.io! 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. 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 "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/ NSFW art (not available until further notice due to video game censorship) by FoxTail19: https://www.patreon.com/FoxTail19 FlimsyLegs Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/FlimsyLegs 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/ FlimsyLegs Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/FlimsyLegs NSFW art by FoxTail19: https://www.patreon.com/FoxTail19 Placeholder (AI) 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. [[(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 while thoughtfully 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 abomination of a 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. "Ah... My beautiful Taru, what a delectable surprise. Far too long between our little rendezvous, wouldn’t you agree?" 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/ch1/1-0017.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/ch1/1-0007.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. 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 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" src="img/ch1/1-0021.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/ch1/1-0021.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>> <<set $quests={}>> <<createNewQuestFunction "soulRelease" "Break the Soul Eater's binding on your soul.">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "soulRelease" "t1" "Find someone who can help you.">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "soulRelease" "t2" "Ask Piru for help.">> <<createNewQuestFunction "demonPledge" "You belong to the demon now. Do his bidding.">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "demonPledge" "t1" "Kill the priests.">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "demonPledge" "t2" "Find the priests.">> <<createNewQuestFunction "newQuest" "This is the name of the new quest.">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "newQuest" "t1" "This is the first task">> <<addQuestTaskFunction "newQuest" "t2" "This is the second task">> <</silently>> <<displayQuestsFunction >> [[Complete a quest test]]

<<silently>> <<completeQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t1">> <<completeQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t1">> <<completeQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t1">> <<completeQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t1">> <</silently>> <<displayQuestsFunction >> [[Fail a quest]]

<<silently>> <<failQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t2">> <<failQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t2">> <<failQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t2">> <<failQuestFunction "soulRelease" "t2">> <</silently>> <<displayQuestsFunction >> [[Mark quest as completed]]

<<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.]]

<<silently>> <<markQuestCompletedFunction "soulRelease">> <</silently>> <<displayQuestsFunction >>

<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/ch1/1-0017.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..."]] [[Surrender to the feeling - accept the taste.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0017.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... [["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>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <<set $taru_concubine_level to 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch1/1-0045.jpeg">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/ch1/1-0044.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/ch1/1-0045.jpeg">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/ch1/1-0016.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/ch1/1-0043.png">"I... I desire a passionate and gentle lover..." 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... His skin is no longer red. He looks... Human. 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/ch1/1-0043.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/ch1/1-0055.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/ch1/1-0045.jpeg">"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/ch1/1-0064.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/ch4/4-0280.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/ch4/4-0281.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/ch4/4-0282.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/ch4/4-0283.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/ch4/4-0284.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/ch4/4-0285.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/ch4/4-0286.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/ch4/4-0287.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/ch4/4-0291.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/ch4/4-0288.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/ch4/4-0289.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/ch4/4-0290.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/ch4/4-0286.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/ch4/4-0292.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/ch4/4-0294.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/ch4/4-0295.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/ch4/4-0296.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/ch4/4-0297.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/ch4/4-0298.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/ch4/4-0299.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/ch4/4-0300.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/ch4/4-0301.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/ch4/4-0302.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/ch4/4-0303.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/ch4/4-0306.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/ch4/4-0304.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/ch4/4-0307.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/ch4/4-0308.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/ch4/4-0311.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/ch4/4-0309.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/ch4/4-0305.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/ch4/4-0310.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/ch4/4-0400.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/ch4/4-0402.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/ch4/4-0403.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/ch4/4-0401.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/ch4/4-0404.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/ch4/4-0405.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/ch4/4-0406.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/ch4/4-0407.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/ch4/4-0408.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/ch4/4-0394.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/ch4/4-0395.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/ch4/4-0409.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/ch4/4-0396.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/ch4/4-0397.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/ch4/4-0312.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/ch4/4-0315.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/ch4/4-0313.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/ch4/4-0314.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/ch4/4-0316.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/ch4/4-0317.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/ch4/4-0318.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/ch4/4-0319.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/ch4/4-0320.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/ch4/4-0321.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/ch4/4-0327.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>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/4-0326.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. But then a coldness appears there. "I see what you're trying to do, interrogator. Well, I won't have it. Tell Tryton he can kiss his arse. And go fuck yourself too." She says, spitting at your feet. Well, so much for showing kindness... [[Tell her who you really are. Why you're actually here.]] [[Now is the time to press harder. To show her who is in control here.|cruel path]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_neutral2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch4/4-0328.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/ch4/4-0322.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/ch4/4-0323.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/ch4/4-0324.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/ch4/4-0325.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/ch4/4-0339.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/ch4/4-0335.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/ch4/4-0336.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/ch4/4-0337.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/ch4/4-0329.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/ch4/4-0330.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/ch4/4-0331.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/ch4/4-0332.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/ch4/4-0333.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/ch4/4-0334.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/ch4/4-0338.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/ch4/4-0340.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/ch4/4-0341.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/ch4/4-0340.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/ch4/4-0342.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/ch4/4-0343.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/ch4/4-0344.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/ch4/4-0345.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/ch4/4-0348.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/ch4/4-0347.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/ch4/4-0346.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/ch4/4-0352.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/ch4/4-0349.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/ch4/4-0350.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/ch4/4-0351.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/ch4/4-0354.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/ch4/4-0355.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/ch4/4-0353.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/ch4/4-0356.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/ch4/4-0353.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/ch4/4-0358.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/ch4/4-0357.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/ch4/4-0359.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/ch4/4-0360.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/ch4/4-0361.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/ch4/4-0353.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/ch4/4-0362.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/ch4/4-0363.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/ch4/4-0364.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/ch4/4-0365.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/ch4/4-0366.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/ch4/4-0367.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/ch4/4-0368.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/ch4/4-0369.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/ch4/4-0370.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/ch4/4-0371.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/ch4/4-0372.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/ch4/4-0373.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/ch4/4-0376.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/ch4/4-0374.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/ch4/4-0375.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/ch4/4-0377.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/ch4/4-0378.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/ch4/4-0379.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/ch4/4-0381.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/ch4/4-0380.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/ch4/4-0383.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/ch4/4-0384.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/ch4/4-0387.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/ch4/4-0388.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/ch4/4-0389.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/ch4/4-0387.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/ch4/4-0393.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/ch4/4-0390.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/ch4/4-0391.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/ch4/4-0392.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/ch4/4-0382.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/ch5/5-0430.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/ch5/5-0431.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/ch5/5-0434.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/ch5/5-0433.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/ch5/5-0435.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/ch5/5-0437.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/ch5/5-0436.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/ch5/5-0441.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/ch5/5-0439.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/ch5/5-0438.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/ch5/5-0440.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/ch5/5-0442.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/ch5/5-0443.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/ch5/5-0444.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/ch5/5-0445.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/ch5/5-0446.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/ch5/5-0447.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/ch5/5-0432.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/ch5/5-0449.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/ch5/5-0453.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/ch5/5-0450.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/ch5/5-0452.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/ch5/5-0451.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/ch5/5-0454.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/ch5/5-0455.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/ch5/5-0456.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/ch5/5-0459.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/ch5/5-0460.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/ch5/5-0463.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/ch5/5-0462.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/ch5/5-0461.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/ch5/5-0471.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 queen-mother's shackles shall be cast from our shoulders! 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>> [[Piru explains.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0464.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/ch5/5-0467.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/ch5/5-0468.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/ch5/5-0469.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/ch5/5-0470.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.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0472.png">"Ah, indeed, Varjatar, slaying it is quite impossible. Yet, our dear Taru here harbors something far more potent. She wields not just a weapon, but a direct conduit to The Abyss itself. Her soul, you see, is not tethered to my dominion, but intimately entwined with The Old Poison instead. How delectable, wouldn't you agree? My intent, my esteemed peers, is to harness this very link, to sever the connection between the abyss and the mortal realm once and for all." Piru reveals. At no point has Piru asked your opinion on the matter, and all of this is news to you. It sounds like he's been using you from the start, to further his own interests... Did he ever intend to help you? Just how far back does his plan go? For the second time already, you begin to wonder if Piru didn't have a hand in the cultist's kidnapping you after all... Does this have something to do with your mother, why she was found dead all those years ago? A failed attempt to close the abyss...?<<if $ch4_mother_not_in_abyss is true>> You know from your discussion with Tryton that your mother's soul at the very least is not trapped in the void... <</if>><<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>You doubt Tryton would approve of this plan, of sealing The Fathomless Hunger and sever the connection to it once and for all... <</if>> The room is silent, giving your thoughts and worst fears free reign to fill in the blanks of what you don't know about everything that's happening around you. Kaarnel is the first to speak. <<if $ch5_branded is true>>"Your plan lies in the hands of a defiant young pup, Piru. I cannot see this succeeding." he says calmly, matter-of-face.<<else>>"Your plan lies in the hands of a young pup, Piru. I cannot see this succeeding."<</if>> Piru shrugs, like he's got it all figured out. You're almost shaking with anger at not understanding what's going on at this point... <<if $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding is true>>"We have an arrangement, she and I, to cleanse her soul of the abyss's foul taint. A mutually advantageous accord, if you will."<<else>>"We have yet to seal an agreement, but I have presented her with an accord to purge her soul of the abyss's stain. A mutually advantageous affair."<</if>> Piru says to his archdemonic companions. <<if $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding is true>>The demons nod, clearly impressed by Piru's plan.<<else>>The demons glance at each-other, uncertain if Piru's plan is sound.<</if>> Lady Gan's warning not to speak, unless spoken to, echoes in your head, even as you try to keep your calm... [[Submissively stay silent... You know your place in this infernal summit...]] [[Protest! Don't you get a say in all this!?]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_fight to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0466.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/ch5/5-0465.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/ch5/5-0448.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 "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0473.png">"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not here, like I don't have a say in this!" you suddenly blurt out, before you can stop yourself. All eyes are on you now, the servants looking at you like you're mad, and the archdemons regarding you with a mix of malice and intrigue. "Jaa hiil!" Tulikor shouts, slamming his fist into the table. The glass surface shatters from the impact, the force crushing the back of the woman kneeling under it. Food and wine flies everywhere, mixed with the blood of the servant crushed by his fist. The carnage leaves you stunned, and you realize you've clearly stepped out of line here. Tulikor is furious, pointing a hand in your direction. An intense heat builds up all around you, like the very air has caught fire. Then, your vision blurs as you're pulled into a portal that appears below you! [[...|piru chamber]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0475.png">You awaken some time later, disoriented. The world around you is dark, and smells of burnt flesh. So, still in the infernal realms. When you open your eyes, you still see nothing. A blindfold is covering your face. But that is the least of your problems. With a muffled cry, you realize you're gagged, a massive slippery ball slotted into your mouth, fully filling it while forcing it open, yet keeping you silenced. It's strapped around your head with a length of leather, its snug fit constantly reminding you of its presence. But that's not all. You're unable to move your arms and legs, which are tightly pressed against your body by chains. Chains, which wrap all around your body, pinning you in place, keeping you immobile. And to add insult to injury, blood is flowing into your head, making it hard to concentrate, which suggests to you that you must be hanging suspended upside down from these chains somewhere in the infernal realms. Your grunts and desperate attempts to escape your chains are met with silence, your efforts futile. The only sound you hear is the drip of your drool falling past your eyes, over your forehead and down onto the obsidian floor below. Your feet are numb: You must've been hanging here for quite some time. [[Piru's disappointed voice breaks the silence.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_harsh_punishment to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0476.png">"You're an even greater fool than I first imagined, dear Taru. To say Tulikor is fuming is quite the understatement." Piru's voice says from somewhere around you, like he's speaking from a distance. He approaches, his voice becoming clearer, as he adds: "You know, Tulikor would relish nothing more than to free your soul from the abyss, just so he could revel in tormenting it for all eternity himself." He comes to stand right next to you. You know this from the heat he radiates, being so close to you. His hand trails your back, his nails lightly clawing against your exposed skin. It is then you realize you're hanging here, chained, gagged and blindfolded, completely naked. <<if $ch5_defy_mistress is true>>"Mistress Gan is most disappointed in you..."<</if>> "But naturally, I, being the ever-gracious intermediary, managed to soothe his temper, promising that I would personally see to it that you comprehend your place here - as the dutiful indebted servant you are." He spins you around in the chains, making you feel dizzy, sending your drool flying everywhere in an uncontrolled manner. Then he abruptly stops your spinning, and grabs your ear. The chains binding you rattle in response, as you're painfully pulled toward Piru. "What do you think would be a fitting punishment, I wonder? Or perhaps you believe you've been wronged somehow - that you've committed no offense at all?" <<if $ch5_branded is true>>He scoffs, adding: "Not once, but twice, have you displayed such brazen disrespect toward your superiors, and, at my expense, shattered your oath of unwavering servitude and submission."<</if>> [[Scream incoherently into the gag.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0477.png">But naturally, Piru ignores you. "Considering I quite literally just saved your hide from Tulikor's fury, one might expect a touch of gratitude, yes? This is starting to become rather habitual, wouldn't you say? Me saving your delicate posterior." With those words, he grabs both of your buttocks, squeezing them hard, his claws digging painfully into your skin. All you manage to do in response is cry helplessly into the gag, thinking feverishly how to get yourself out of this situation. "Let's see now..." Piru says thoughtfully.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> "You are already my cherished concubine."<<else>> "You are not yet my cherished concubine, yet..."<</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> "You are already my lethal blade."<<else>> "You are not yet my mortal blade, my assassin..."<</if>> Piru's hand reaches out, grabbing your throat. For a moment, you think he's about to choke you to death, but then the gag in your mouth slides out. He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe freely, but his touch on your throat digs into the very core of your pact to him, compelling you to remain silent. Compelling you to listen, to obey. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|Forced assassin deal.]]<</if>><</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|Forced concubine deal.]]<</if>> <</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|punishment]]<</if>><</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0479.png">With his hand still on your throat, he says: "Naturally, I shall honor our arrangement - to pry your soul from the foul grasp of the Old Poison. Yet, in return, you must fulfill your part, my dear, and yield to your oath of obedience. Together, we shall seal away the Abyss for all eternity, heralding a glorious age for demons. Do you consent and pledge your service in this matter?" His power over you is complete, his infernal magic gripping your very core as heat radiates into your body from his touch. Your mind is blank, accepting his words in silent shock. Can he force upon you this, as payment for saving your life again? Is that how an infernal pledge works? None of this makes sense, according to what you learned from your mother all those years ago... Stunned, you hear yourself say: "I understand. I pledge to seal away The Abyss..." Your words are hollow, emotionless, but still very much yours and true. Even tied helplessly in chains, the demon has somehow gotten your consent to further deepen your pact with him. "Splendid... I knew, of course, that you wouldn't have the heart to refuse, dear Taru." Piru muses, slapping your cheek playfully with the palm of his hand. "Ah, what delightful banter..." Piru muses. Slowly, you feel the chains being lowered until your completely bound and tightly chained body is lying flat on the warm obsidian floor. You cannot see a thing of course, as the blindfold is still covering your eyes. [[Finally, you feel the chains loosening.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0482.png">One by one, the chains loosen their tight grip on you, and you slowly regain control of your own body again. But you've been suspended for so long, been hugged by the chains for so long, that you cannot make the effort to stand. Not yet. It's a massive feat to reach up, and pull off the blindfold. Lying on your back, naked and no longer bound, you stare up at your demonic master. You know he is not done so easily. Far from it... Somehow, you find the strength to ask, with a coarse voice: "How long has this been your goal... To use me to seal The Abyss?" you find yourself asking. "As soon as Tyrni become... Indisposed." You're surprised by his honest answer. "Did you attempt it before? To seal the abyss? With my mother?" you ask, trying to make sense of it all. "Hmph... No, indeed. We lacked the means for such a grand endeavor. But you and I, my dear, we possess it now." he replies. The connection. The soul binding... "Recover your breath, little plaything. We're not done yet. Then make yourself presentable and join Mistress Gan and me in my bedroom. Do not delay excessively..." With those words, he conjured up a rack of clothes, a bathtub and a floating faucet with water that comes out of thin air. Towels, soaps, perfumes and make-up line a table that appears next to the bathtub. Then he leaves you alone, where you remain lying on your back for a moment, simply staring at the endless flow of water. So this is your life here in these infernal realms. One of constant servitude, of being Piru's plaything. Fuck toy. Concubine. Sex slave. What even is the difference to a demon, who takes what he wants, when he wants, without asking? At that moment you realize this is all about survival. You must keep him satisfied, and take on the role of a submissive servant, for else there will be quite literally hell to pay. You've gotten off the hook easily here. You recall with vivid detail the torture room and its devices... All things considering, you're incredibly lucky... [[Catch your breath for a while...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_face_fuck to true>> <<set $ch5_mean_sex to true>> <<set $ch5_pledge_to_seal_abyss to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0483.png">It takes you a while to recover from hanging upside-down. You see things clearly now. Piru is only interested in using you for his own goals. Not respecting your opinions. Maybe the best course of action is to get out of your pledge with him, as soon as possible. Slowly, you stand up on shaking legs. You've gone through worse shit than this. You will get through this as well. The last thing you need right now is for Piru to lose his temper and for you to get into deeper trouble. You realize you have very few options... Play the part of the concubine, or face his wrath... Might as well try to enjoy it? [[You accept your duty. Take a look around the room.|concubine prepare]] [[Piru can fuck himself... You're not doing it, that's for sure.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0474.png">You know your place amongst these infernal beings. Whatever they discuss, whatever they decide, it is your duty to stay quiet, listen and do as you're told. The feeling is strangely freeing, in an odd paradoxical way. "It sounds like you don't actually have much of a plan, Piru." Varjatar comments, giving you a thoughtful look. "But I wish you luck regardless. Should the two of you achieve your goal... Well, that would be most agreeable." "I am meticulously crafting the particulars and shall consult with our dear Taru here at length, when the time is ripe. Yet, your words of encouragement are, as always, most appreciated, Enchantress." Piru replies, raising his glass of wine in a toast. Kaarnel and Rautmar shrug. Tulikor, on the other hand, looks mildly interested for the first time during the entirety of the summit. "Ouus kook yke tet paa. Aana aata paal aana assi, Piru. Alla huu puu kaa paas." Tuliko says, his voice sounding calm rather than angry. He seems to have liked the idea. With those closing words, the archdemons disappear in a cloud of smoke. Rautmar gives you hungry glare as he disappears, while Varjatar playfully waves her hands your way, giving you a wink and a smile. It seems Tuliko ended the meeting, calling for the closing of the summit. <<if $ch5_branded is true>>[[You disappear into a portal, surrounded by smoke.|piru chamber alt]]<<else>>[[You disappear into a portal, surrounded by smoke.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0484.png">You appear in a mostly empty room. There's a rack of clothes, a bathtub and a floating faucet with water that comes out of thin air. Towels, soaps, perfumes and make-up line a table that appears next to the bathtub. You're standing in the middle of the room when Piru appears next to you. "Bravo on surviving your first demonic summit in one piece, sweet Taru. You deserve quite the generous spanking on your ass, as a reward." he says, smiling from ear to ear. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>>"Of course, I wouldn't dream of treating my assassin that way..." he adds. <</if>>Instinctively, you turn to face him, protecting your precious posterior. "How long has this been your goal... To use me to seal The Abyss?" you find yourself asking. "As soon as Tyrni become... Indisposed." You're surprised by his honest answer. "Did you attempt it before? To seal the abyss? With my mother?" you ask, trying to make sense of it all. "Hmph... No, but that was the plan. However, we lacked the means for such a grand endeavor. But you and I, my dear, we possess it now." He replies. The connection. The soul binding... "And now, I suppose, you plan to ask nicely if this is something I want to do?" you defiantly ask him, crossing your arms protectively, taking a wide stance. He looks at you with a curious smile on his lips. <<if $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding is true>>"You already made that agreement, sweet Taru, the very moment you pledged yourself to me. I vowed to sever your soul from the Old Poison's clutch, and sealing the Abyss eternally will accomplish precisely that."<<else>>"I ask you now, as I did once before... Do you desire my aid in rescuing your soul from the grasp of the Old Poison?"<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_helps_with_soul_binding is false>>[[Contemplate your options...]]<<else>>[[He's got a point there...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0475.png">You awaken disoriented. The world around you is dark, and smells of burnt flesh. So, still in the infernal realms. When you open your eyes, you still see nothing. A blindfold is covering your face. But that is the least of your problems. With a muffled cry, you realize you're gagged, a massive slippery ball slotted into your mouth, fully filling it while forcing it open, yet keeping you silenced. It's strapped around your head with a length of leather, its snug fit constantly reminding you of its presence. But that's not all. You're unable to move your arms and legs, which are tightly pressed against your body by chains. Chains, which wrap all around your body, pinning you in place, keeping you immobile. And to add insult to injury, blood is flowing into your head, making it hard to concentrate, which suggests to you that you must be hanging suspended upside down from these chains somewhere in the infernal realms. Your grunts and desperate attempts to escape your chains are met with silence, your efforts futile. The only sound you hear is the drip of your drool falling past your eyes, over your forehead and down onto the obsidian floor below. Your feet are numb: You must've been hanging here for quite some time. [[Piru's disappointed voice breaks the silence.|piru chamber alt 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0476.png">"You didn't think I'd overlooked your impudent little act of defiance, did you?" Piru's voice says from somewhere around you, like he's speaking from a distance. He approaches, his voice becoming clearer, as he adds: "No, no, my dear. For such a brazen affront, you simply must be disciplined." He comes to stand right next to you. You know this from the heat he radiates, being so close to you. His hand trails your back, his nails lightly clawing against your exposed skin. It is then you realize you're hanging here, chained, gagged and blindfolded, completely naked. <<if $ch5_defy_mistress is true>>"Mistress Gan is most disappointed in you..."<</if>> "I shall have to personally see to it that you comprehend your place here - as the dutiful indebted servant you are." He spins you around in the chains, making you feel dizzy, sending your drool flying everywhere in an uncontrolled manner. Then he abruptly stops your spinning, and grabs your ear. The chains binding you rattle in response, as you're painfully pulled toward Piru. "What do you think would be a fitting punishment, I wonder? Or perhaps you believe you've been wronged somehow - that you've committed no offense at all?" [[Scream incoherently into the gag.|piru chamber alt 3]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0477.png">But naturally, Piru ignores you. Instead, he grabs both of your buttocks, squeezing them hard, his claws digging painfully into your skin. All you manage to do in response is cry helplessly into the gag, thinking feverishly how to get yourself out of this situation. "Let's see now..." Piru says thoughtfully.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> "You are already my cherished concubine."<<else>> "You are not yet my cherished concubine, yet..."<</if>> he pauses... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> "You are already my lethal blade."<<else>> "You are not yet my mortal blade, my assassin..."<</if>> Piru's hand reaches out, grabbing your throat. For a moment, you think he's about to choke you to death, but then the gag in your mouth slides out. He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe freely, but his touch on your throat digs into the very core of your pact to him, compelling you to remain silent. Compelling you to listen, to obey. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|Forced assassin deal.]]<</if>><</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is false>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|Forced concubine deal.]]<</if>> <</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[He reaches some sort of conclusion...|punishment]]<</if>><</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0485.png">Still, he did not mention an age of demons... "You never explained just how you meant to break the soul binding. It seems rather convenient that you failed to mention an age of demons as part of the deal." you point out, determined not to let him off the hook so easily. But Piru, the slimy bastard, simply shrugs. "I must remind you, sweet Taru, that you were singularly obsessed with one thing, and one thing only: saving your soul from the clutches of the Old Poison. But as they say... the devil, dear girl, is in the details..." He smiles, a malicious yet sincere smile at the same time. He is only true to his nature, you realize. Can you blame him for that? Well, yes, you can blame him. By mortal standards. But you're not in the mortal realm now. And he is not a mortal. You find yourself cursing the day you had to make this pledge. Indeed in his eyes, you've already agreed to sealing The Abyss and ushering in an age of demons in the process, since that is the way he plans to save your soul. Clever. And complete bullshit. But do you have a choice here? What good does it do to defy him now? Maybe you should just stay silent, and try to break your pact with him as soon as possible? After a moment of thoughtful consideration, while Piru watches you with a curious look on his face, you say... [["Fine. We'll do it your way."]] [["No fucking way. You tricked me, demon."]]

<<silently>> <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is false>> <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is false>> <<set $ch5_no_options to true>> <</if>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0490.png">The demon offers your soul salvation. All you need to do is accept his help... And in doing so helping him seal The Abyss. And usher in an age of demons instead? The prospect makes your head spin... You haven't met with Einar yet, but regardless how cute his butt is, he simply cannot help you with things like this. No, otherworldly issues, Gods and demons, it's beyond what your best friend in the old gang could ever help with. <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>Opettaille offered to help you, not only with The Abyss, but also your infernal pact with Piru... But his God sends a cold shiver down your spine. Is the God of Mercy truly any better than a demon?<<else>>You've turned your back on the temple of the God of Mercy, and their God has in turn turned their back on you. You will find no help with either The Abyss or your pact with Piru there...<</if>> <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Tryton offered you a means to dominate The Abyss, to learn its secrets and master it, thus breaking the pact. But are you strong enough to win a match of willpower against an eldritch being like The Fathomless Hunger?<<else>>The secrets of The Abyss with the help of Tryton are beyond you now, for good. You doubt anything good would've come from that path anyway...<</if>> You have precious few options here... <<if $ch5_no_options is true>>In fact, from how it looks, you have no options but to accept the demon's deal... <</if>>Accepting the deal now is to accept becoming both his assassin and his concubine, like he originally wanted... <<if $ch5_no_options is true>>[[You realize you must accept the deal. Discuss the details...|accept deal]]<<else>>[[It's best to keep your options open. Accept the deal and discuss the details...|accept deal]]<</if>> <<if $ch5_no_options is false>>[[You tell Piru that you do not need his help.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0493.png">"I do not need your help to save my soul from The Abyss, demon." you tell him defiantly. You never wanted to pledge yourself to him in the first place, but out of necessity you did so to escape the cult. But that is as far into his pact you're willing to go. Piru, however, does not look amused by your answer. "Truly, I expected far more from you, stubborn Taru. To bring closure to what your dear mother began, all those years past. But now I see, quite clearly, that both she and I have grievously misjudged you." The demon looks down on you with disgust in his eyes. "Don't you fucking dare say what my mother would've thought of all this!" Your anger is flaring up, at the situation you find yourself in and at Piru being a bastard of a demon. He may have a way with words, but his soul is as black and evil as The Abyss itself. "Oh, did I prick a tender nerve? How utterly amusing that you should lash out at your savior. My disappointment is profound, yet, despite it all, we shan't fail to uphold the terms of our pact, shall we?" his eyes flare up, and for a moment it feels like he takes a hold of your heart with a phantom hand, squeezing hard. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>"Now, these demonic summits always leave me quite inordinately... Horny." he begins. "We're not done yet. Make yourself presentable and join Mistress Gan and me in my bedroom. Do not delay excessively... Your duties are needed, concubine."<<else>>"The swifter you dispatch those meddlesome priests, the better, my deadly blade. Should you falter in this simple task, there will be quite literally hell to pay."<</if>> he says, releasing his magical grip on your heart. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>[[Piru leaves you alone...]]<<else>>[[Piru summons a portal, sending you back to the mortal realm...]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0491.png">"Splendid. As you are well aware, this arrangement makes you both my concubine and my assassin. In return, I shall cleanse your soul of the Old Poison's taint by sealing it away from the mortal realm's influence, once and for all. Demons shall gain an unforeseen foothold in the mortal realm. Do you accept these terms?" Piru asks. You're about to deepen your pact with him even further... <<if $ch5_no_options is true>>You don't have a choice, not really. <</if>>Whatever you promise him now, you might be able to get out of it - if you can break your pact to him. But that is easier said than done... After a moment's hesitation you nod. You're ready, as ready as you'll ever be... "Good. Now repeat these binding words, Taru." He instructs, then begins: <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>"I, Taru Nopsa, pledge my blade to Piru, to slay the two priests of The Merciful God."<<else>>"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."<</if>> Piru adds: "Together, I Taru Nopsa, shall seal away the Abyss for all eternity, heralding a glorious age for demons." [[Repeat the words...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <<set $ch5_feel_like_whore to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0494.png">When you glance around the room, you quickly realize what Piru wants you to do. The soaps and bathtub, already filled with warm water, invites you to wash yourself thoroughly. The perfumes and make-up are there for you to use, to heighten your feminine beauty. And finally the rack of clothes, filled with expensive silk dresses of revealing nature, just like those Lady Gan was wearing. There's no point delaying.<<if $ch5_harsh_punishment is false>> You begin by stripping down, removing your armor.<</if>> Completely naked, you approach the bathtub. The water is hot to your touch, almost uncomfortably so. But, you won't let that prevent you. You submerge yourself fully, cleaning yourself throroughly. Then you grab a soap, helpfully placed on a small chair next to the bathtub. You scrub yourself clean, under the armpits, under your breasts, over your whole body. When you clean your pussy, with just hot water, you begin to feel... [[Like a whore...]] [[A tiny bit excited...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0524.png">Surrounded by the smell of burning flesh, you disappear into the portal. The chill air of the brewery attic greets you when you land. Fuck... You've never seen Piru pissed like that before. At that moment you realize this is all about survival. You must try to keep him satisfied, and take on the role of his servant, for else there will be quite literally hell to pay. You've gotten off the hook easily here. You recall with vivid detail the torture room and its devices... All things considering, you're incredibly lucky... A quick scan around the attic reveals that it's in the same state you left it. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>A few feet away, the woman you rescued from Tryton's Doom Clock is sleeping. Apparently she either didn't notice you were gone, or didn't care. Neither of those options makes you confident that she'll be a useful ally...<</if>> With a sigh, you sit down on your blanket, feeling a growing sense of unease. It feels like things are slowly spiraling out of control here. But now, you need a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, in the evening, you'll hopefully meet with Einar, at the Rustic Fork Inn.<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>> Before that, you might want to pay a visit with the priests<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>, or Tryton<</if>>. Your top priority right now is to get rid of this infernal pact, before Piru's anger can fester into hatred.<<else>><<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Before that, you might want to pay a visit to Tryton. Your top priority right now is to get rid of this infernal pact, before Piru's anger can fester into hatred. He might be able to help you.<</if>><</if>> At least you have a clue now as to how you're going to break the pact. Steal the original writ with the pledge... And then what? That's it? Probably not. Nothing is ever that simple... Urgh. But right now, sleep is what you need... Your head is spinning with thoughts as you lie down and close your eyes, wondering what tomorrow will bring... [[Three months earlier...|Chapter 6 start]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_face_fuck to false>> <<set $ch5_mean_sex to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0489.png">When he leaves you alone, and you can't help but feel tiny. Fragile. So this is your life here in these infernal realms. One of constant servitude, of being Piru's plaything. Fuck toy. Concubine. Sex slave. What even is the difference to a demon, who takes what he wants, when he wants, without asking? At that moment you realize this is all about survival. You must keep him satisfied, and take on the role of a submissive servant, for else there will be quite literally hell to pay. You've gotten off the hook easily here. You recall with vivid detail the torture room and its devices... All things considering, you're incredibly lucky... You realize you have very few options... Play the part of the concubine, or face his wrath... Might as well try to enjoy it? [[You accept your duty. Take a look around the room.|concubine prepare]] [[Piru can fuck himself... You're not doing it, that's for sure.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_pledge_to_seal_abyss to true>> <<set $ch5_face_fuck to false>> <<set $ch5_mean_sex to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0488.png">When he leaves you alone, you feel completely powerless. So this is your life here in these infernal realms. One of constant servitude, of being Piru's plaything. Concubine. At that moment you realize this is all about survival. You must keep him satisfied, and take on the role of a submissive servant. New determination fills you. Yes, you can play the part. Until the time when you can break your pledge to him. And then the whole pact will be discarded, undone. You realize you have very few options... Play the part of the concubine, or face his wrath... Might as well try to enjoy it? [[You accept your duty. Take a look around the room.|concubine prepare]] [[Piru can fuck himself... You're not doing it, that's for sure.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0486.png">The smile on Piru's lips widens. Splendid. Now, these demonic summits always leave me quite inordinately... Horny." he begins. "Make yourself presentable and join Mistress Gan and me in my bedroom. Do not delay excessively... Your duties are needed, concubine." [[Piru leaves you alone...|Piru leaves you alone alt]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_pledge_to_seal_abyss to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0487.png">You never wanted to pledge yourself to him in the first place, but out of necessity you did so to escape the cult. But that is as far into his pact you're willing to go. Piru, however, does not look amused by your answer. "Truly, I expected far more from you, stubborn Taru. To bring closure to what your dear mother began, all those years past. But now I see, quite clearly, that both she and I have grievously misjudged you." The demon looks down on you with disgust in his eyes. "Don't you fucking dare say what my mother would've thought of all this!" Your anger is flaring up, at the situation you find yourself in and at Piru being a bastard of a demon. He may have a way with words, but his soul is as black and evil as The Abyss itself. "Oh, did I prick a tender nerve? How utterly amusing that you should lash out at your savior. My disappointment is profound, yet, despite it all, we shan't fail to uphold the terms of our pact, shall we? You have already pledged yourself to me, and I will save your soul from the Old Poison, and seal the Abyss with your help. There's nothing you can do to stop it." his eyes flare up, and for a moment it feels like he takes a hold of your heart with a phantom hand, squeezing hard. "Now, let's put those details in the past and focus on the near future... These demonic summits always leave me quite inordinately... Horny." he begins. "We're not done yet. Make yourself presentable and join Mistress Gan and me in my bedroom. Do not delay excessively... Your duties are needed, concubine." he says, releasing his magical grip on your heart. [[Piru leaves you alone...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0496.png">You wrap yourself in a towel, before heading over to the table with a mirror, perfume bottles and a full arsenal of make-up products. The mirror is sharp, reflecting your image perfectly. The room is well lit by infernal fires, which cast their dancing shades over your features. You look tired. Exhausted, even. No wonder Piru wanted you to make yourself presentable... You begin by testing the perfumes, settling with a lilac and gooseberries perfume. Why, you don't know. Maybe it reminds you of something? Then, you enhance your feminine features with a dash of make-up, applying a light touch of foundation and concealer. With an eyebrow stick, an eyeliner and mascara, you make your eyes look dashing. A bit of rouge brings life into your cheeks, and a lightly red lipstick finishes your look. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you once again feel <<if $ch5_feel_like_whore is true>> like a whore. One that looks the part now.<<else>> a bit of excitement for that's to come.<</if>> <<if $ch5_mean_sex is true>>But you didn't have much choice in the matter, did you?<<else>>You might've had a choice, at some point.<</if>> But it doesn't matter. You're here, and regardless how you found yourself in this situation, you must see things through. Act the part. Pretend if you have to. Might as well try to enjoy it, right? With those encouraging thoughts, you put on a red silk bra and matching underwear. Your transparent silk dress is black. Your colors mirror that of Lady Gan's outfit, but reversed. Piru will probably appreciate it... Finally, you put your hair up in a ponytail, showing the full beauty of your face. A final look in the mirror reveals a woman that you barely recognize. You have indeed turned into Piru's concubine. And that reminds you... It's time to join them in the bedroom. Piru and Lady Gan. Right... But you're supposed to call her Mistress, aren't you? [[Suddenly nervous, you leave the room in search for Piru's bedroom...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0497.png">The doorway behind you disappears as soon as you leave the room. A solid wall of pulsating obsidian rock appears behind you, radiating infernal heat. A glance around you reveals that you've arrived directly in Piru's bedchamber. Before you, at the far end of the room, are Mistress Gan and Piru, in his bed. You approach cautiously, and notice Mistress Gan is wearing the same outfit as before: The transparent red silk dress, and a black bra and underwear underneath. Piru, on the other hand, is completely naked. His demonic superiority and confidence pulses through him, demanding absolute awe from his subjects. From his concubines. They stop their discussion when they see you approaching. Mistress Gan leaves the bed and greets you. "How good of you to join us, concubine. I trust you recall the correct etiquette? I am your Mistress and our lord is your Master. Do I make myself clear?" Mistress Gan asks. Your cheeks are blushing red at her tone, and it is then you notice a whip in her hand. No doubt she intends to use it, if you don't behave... You've made up your mind. <<if $ch5_harsh_punishment is true>>Resistance has been beating out of you. <</if>>You say... [["Yes, Mistress... Master..."]] <<if $ch5_harsh_punishment is false>>[[Nothing. You will not be the submissive here.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0495.png">There's no denying it. You feel your desires taking over, just a tiny bit, allowing yourself to feel excited for whatever will happen next. Excited about being Piru's personal plaything. You soak in waters a moment longer, until the pressure of hastily making yourself ready forces you to stand up and grab a towel. The fabric is impossibly soft, and you sigh from the pleasant touch as you dry yourself thoroughly. This kind of luxury has been out of your reach your entire life... [[Continue your preparations.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_feel_like_whore to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0495.png">There's no denying it. You feel like a whore. A clean and mostly independent one, but a whore nonetheless. Piru's personal plaything. You soak in waters a moment longer, until the pressure of hastily making yourself ready forces you to stand up and grab a towel. The fabric is impossibly soft, and you sigh from the pleasant touch as you dry yourself thoroughly. This kind of luxury has been out of your reach your entire life... [[Continue your preparations.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_lady_gan to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0498.png">Well, there's no point fighting this. You know what's expected of you. Submissively, you say what they want to hear. Your Mistress smiles, as does your Master. Something within you shifts as you get used to the power dynamic, the prospect of being treated as a lesser, whose opinion does not matter. "Excellent. Why don't you start with showing your new and improved self your Master?" Mistress suggests. You bow your head to her, knowing your place, and willingly or unwillingly accepting it. Your Master is looking at you with amusement when you approach the bed, taking in every inch of your new look. From the way you have your hair, to the makeup, and the transparent dress. His eyes rest on your curves, fully visible underneath the silk, before they trail up to your breasts, contained in the red silk bra. Finally, his eyes land on your red lips, and then your eyes. "Spin around, girl." Master instructs you, and without hesitation, you do just that. He admires your full body as you turn around, exposing yourself to him. The silk lands softly on your skin when your spin comes to a halt, and his fully erect cock seems to beckon you into his bed, throbbing with excitement as it is. He nods his approval, not to you, but to your Mistress who is standing next to you. She takes a step closer, stopping just behind you. Her hands brush your shoulders, moving toward your neck. The clink of metal on metal alerts you to her intentions, and then you feel thick leather touching your throat. "For a good pet, her very own collar." She explains as she wraps the leather around your neck. [[Let her put the collar on you.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_thief">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0458.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>> <<set $ch5_dominate_lady_gan to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0507.png">When it's clear you're defiantly staying silent, Lady Gan's disapproval becomes clear. You're staring at her, as if to dare her to strike you. Your make-up and dress turn into a mask and shield, allowing you to stand up to Lady Gan confidently. Piru looks at your exchange with amusement, a smile on his lips. But he does not intervene. Lady Gan raises her whip, lifts it above her head for a strike. With a quick forward dash, you close the distance, and suddenly you're too close for her whip. She looks angry, and confused, when you grab her wrists, forcing her to drop the whip. Then you kick her knees from under her, forcing her to fall down and kneel in front of you as you stand behind her. You've locked her arms in yours, keeping her pinned in front of you. She struggles, and grunts with frustration. "I think you've got the roles reversed, Submissive Gan." you say defiantly, keeping her pinned down as you look Piru straight in the eyes. He smiles, clearly pleased by your initiative. Lady Gan is huffing with frustration, cursing you, but she's much weaker than you. Helplessly, she remains on her knees. "Assume your role, Submissive Gan, and do adorn yourself with your very own collar." Piru instructs her, throwing a leather collar from the bed onto the floor in front of her. When you let go of her, she remains on her knees, staring at the collar, then at you, then up at the smirking Piru in his bed. At first, it looks like she's about to protest, but she's been here long enough to know Piru is not someone you disobey or question. "As you wish, Master." She says to Piru, then reaches out, grabs the leather collar and without question wraps it around her neck, securing the clasp. She sits on the floor, hands in her lap, seamlessly taking on the role as a submissive who awaits her new Mistress and Master for instructions. The transition startles you for a moment, and for a moment you admire her. You can see why she is the first concubine, so flexible in her roles. Well, so are you. And you're here to show her that there's competition in hell. <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Besides, Tryton wanted you to practice dominating others, didn't he? In preparation for a confrontation with the abyss. Why not start with Lady Gan, the so-called first concubine of Piru?<</if>> [[Lady Gan await your command, as your submissive...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0499.png">You close your eyes, allowing her to complete the task and secure the clasp of the collar. The leather is thick, and the fit is tight and snug. Every breath reminds you of its presence, and as you open your eyes, you see the approving look on Piru's face as he smiles at you from his bed. Mistress Gan takes a leather leash, and secures it on the steel ring on your collar. Still, you do not resist. You know your place. When she pulls you by your leash toward the bed, gently, you meekly follow her. Mistress hands the leash to Piru, who sits towering above you in the bed. When he pulls the leash, you're forced to look up and stretch your neck, your eyes meeting his. What he sees pleases him. This is what you want, isn't it?<<if $ch5_face_fuck is true>> You got a taste for it when Piru fucked your throat earlier.<</if>> Complete surrender. To be used. You don't even care about the pledge, the pact, the abyss or anything else. In this moment, your desires control you. Is this you, and your real thoughts, or is this the concubine's pact to Piru that twists your mind? Whatever the case, you feel your breasts swelling with excitement, your nipples hardening when Piru pulls your leash. And a growing, aching, wetness awakening between your legs when you let your imagination run wild... All this, your Master, Piru, sees in your eyes, and he smiles. You're pulled toward the bed, pinned by the leash, but when you're about to crawl up, Mistress stops you. Your hands are resting on the bed sheets, your knees touching the side of the mattress, and your gaze is firmly up, toward Piru, held there by the leash. "Spread your legs, girl." Mistress instructs, and without looking away from Piru, you do so willingly, provocatively even. Her touch sends ripples through your skin as she explores the smoothness of your silk dress, caressing your back, your hips, your legs... When she returns up, she makes a point of stopping for a thorough inspection of your ass cheeks, gently cupping them, squeezing them, before finally lightly slapping each of them with the palm of her hand. [[Bite your lip, to prevent a soft moan from escaping.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0500.png">Piru, your Master, is watching your expressions closely as Mistress explores your body. He holds the leash tight, ensuring your attention is fully at him as she does so. A soft movement of his arm alerts you to the fact that he's slowly stroking his rock hard cock, while smiling down on you. You don't know where these thoughts come from, but you know you want it, badly. But you've been instructed to spread your legs, and nothing more, and so you fight the urge to crawl into the bed with Piru and throw yourself at his cock, pussy first of course. When Mistress reaches up again, she does so with the intention of removing your dress. And not in a gentle manner. Fabric rips as she roughly tears it apart, and Piru delights in seeing your shocked expression at this treatment. Before you have time to process what happened, you're standing there with a collar on your neck, pulled by a leash toward Piru, wearing nothing but a red silk bra and matching underwear. Your heart skips a beat when you feel a warm hand sliding inside of your underwear, and Mistress Gan's warm breath on your back. She finds your wetness, exploring it, and without asking puts a finger inside of you. With a frustrated sigh, you surrender to her touch, as she continues exploring your pussy without hurry. Your wetness offers no resistance as her fingers slide inside of you, only to be pulled out to smear your wetness all over your vulva. You surrender and close your eyes, moaning with pleasure as she gently caresses your clitoris. It's awakened, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Then Mistress abruptly stops, tearing your bra and underwear into pieces in two quick motions, leaving you completely naked with the collar around your neck as your only garment. "Her pussy is ready and willing. I wonder how her other holes are doing..." Mistress comments, and takes charge of your leash once again. She pulls you around, then forces you down on your knees with firm hands on your shoulder and head. She's towering over you now, looking down at you. You feel so utterly submissive and horny, that you're willing to do anything. The freedom to just stop thinking overwhelms you as you slide into this state-of-mind. "Open your slutty mouth." Mistress instructs. [[You're unsure if this is what you want, or if Piru's magic forces, but you submissively do as you're told...|You do so willingly...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0501.png">She hasn't even stopped her sentence when your mouth opens. She's holding your leash tight, forcing you to look up at her as you do so. She smiles, then fills your mouth with three of her fingers, pressing against your tongue on their way to the back of your throat. You can taste your pussy on her fingers, smell the sweetness of your juices as she slides her hand all the way to the back of your throat. You gag, but only at the last minute, when her whole hand is lodged into your mouth, your teeth brushing against the top of her hand. Tears flow into your eyes, but you keep your mouth submissively open, until she slowly removes her hand. When you cough and catch your breath, she smears your saliva on your face, drying her fingers and hand thoroughly. You take it silently, feeling hot waves of intoxicating humiliation wash over you by the gesture. "Face down, ass up, wench." Mistress instructs next and walks behind you. With a foot on your back, she forces you down onto the ground. Then, with the same foot between your legs, she ensures you raise your ass up from the ground. The warm obsidian floor greets your cheeks as you lie there, resting your head on the floor, while your arms are leaning on the floor for support. Your legs are spread wide, but your ass is held proudly on display, as high up as you can get it. "Your behind needs inspection too, little pet. Relax and spread your asscheeks with your hands." she instructs, her tone of voice demanding your full obedience, leaving no room for you to resist or refuse. After a moment's hesitation, you realize you might've had a choice, to change how things played out. To change your role in this infernal realm. But that moment is long past. With blushing cheeks, and a flutter in your stomach, you... [[Do as you're told, as the good submissive slut you are. Spread your asscheeks for your Mistress.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0502.png">Your breasts, chest and face are all pressed against the warm obsidian floor of Piru's realm. With your ass in the air, legs helpfully spread, you reach behind your back with your hands, firmly grabbing one asscheeks in each. Then, with your heart beating loudly in your chest, and a strange sensation rushing through your head that you can't quite describe, you obey your Mistress. You part your asscheeks, revealing for her your exposed and vulnerable hole, your most private part. And you do so willingly, realizing this is your place here. This is what you are, nothing more. An object, to be commanded, admired and used. No... There's got to be some infernal magic making you think these thoughts... Surely you aren't actually loving this? Being treated like this? You must admit that you've sometimes dreamt about something like this... "Well... I'm surprised. Nearly mint condition, isn't it? If you only knew the pleasures it can give you..." Mistress comments and kneels down behind you, her hand tracing the smooth skin of your exposed asscheeks, slowly circling in towards your gaping asshole. You realize you're trembling. With anticipation? With dread? It's hard to say... And to add to the confusion, you feel something warm spreading between your legs as your pussy awakens with fervor, making you drip with wetness. You can feel it running down your right thigh, towards your knee and onto the floor. Your soaking wetness. Without hesitating, Mistress runs her hand up your thigh, gathering all your wetness on her fingers. She pays a short visit in your pussy, teasing you, but as soon as her hands are slick with your juices, she moves up. Her finger gently touches your ass, probing, testing, thoroughly lubricating it. You've been holding your breath, which you are forced to release in shock when she pushes her finger into you. Gasping and stunned, you remain on the floor, face down as Mistress begins methodically pushing her finger in and out of your ass, her efforts well lubricated by the juices she's borrowed from your pussy. [[The sensation is unreal, but you softly whimper and let her continue without protesting...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0503.png">Her finger somehow forces your ass to relax, releasing a tension you didn't know you had. Slowly, you realize that your hands are no longer needed to keep your asscheeks spread, as you fall into a comfortable rhythm and position, with your legs spread wide. Mistress caresses your asshole in ways you didn't know was possible, and with a whimper you give in to the pleasure, letting your hands drop down onto the floor for added support. It is clear she sees you completely immersing yourself in this, as she continues wordlessly fucking your ass with her finger. Soon, you're a whimpering mess and she adds another finger, and slows down for just a moment as your ass adjusts to the new pressure. Then, with experienced hands, she picks up the pace again, removing every thought from your head as she relentlessly fucks you with her two fingers. Your ass is a mess, clenching in confusion when she pulls her fingers out, only to yield and give way as she pushes them back in. The wet sloppy sounds of your vulnerable anus being used by Mistress echoes in Piru's bedchamber. That, and the sound of your moans and whimpers as you try to make sense of what you're feeling. Abruptly, she stops and pulls her fingers out of you. "Loved it, didn't you? Good. We're just getting started..." Mistress explains and pulls your leash. "Up, slut. To the bed. Join your Master." she instructs. You're choking on the collar as she forcefully pulls you up, your weak and shaking legs barely able to support you. Confused, out-of-breath and ass feeling violated, you stumble toward the bed and crawl up to meet Piru, who's lying leisurely on the soft sheets, a mischievous smile on his face. "Tell your Master that you want him to use your ass as he likes." Mistress commands. Your head is spinning as you crawl on all fours toward Piru, naked except for a collar around your neck. Mistress hands the leash to your collar to Piru, who looks at you, expecting you to repeat her words... To your astonishment, you have no intention of refusing, and instead willingly and submissively say... [["Please, Master, use my ass any way you like..."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0504.png">His smile is victorious, their control over you complete, as you willingly beg for Piru to fuck your ass. He gets up on his knees, waiting for you to come to him. And you do, crawling on all fours until his cock is inches from your face. Then, with a final glance up at the demon holding the leash to your collar, you turn around, exposing your ass to him just like you did for Mistress. But unlike Mistress, he isn't gentle. With both hands firmly on your hips, he pulls you toward him, forcefully shoving his thick demonic cock deep inside of your ass in one quick motion. Nothing could've prepared you for this. You scream, in pain, as his dick slams into you. It feels like your ass ruptures a bit as he enters, his cock penetrating your lubricated and exposed anus. He stops your cries and shouts by pulling on the leash, choking you with the collar. Then he begins pounding you, ever pulling your throat toward him. You're unable to breath, unable to cry out, as he destroys your ass in an assault that leaves you shaking in panic. Then he stops, his cock inside of you, and lets you breathe. Choking, coughing, you gasp for air in panic. "Your ass will soon heal fully, Taru, don't forget. It will adjust to fit me. You'll see..." Piru explains. In front of you, Mistress is watching from the other side of the room. She's washing her hands, you realize in your confused state. Mistress returns to the bed, where you're desperately trying to breathe normally, and Piru has lodged his cock inside your ass without moving it. Then she casually undresses, removing her silk dress, her silk bra and finally her silk underwear. She stands beautiful, terrifying and naked in front of you, before she too crawls into the bed. She looks you in the eyes as she approaches, stopping right in front of you where you're on all fours in front of Piru, your ass toward the demon. Mistress smiles, then sits down on her back in front of you, her pussy inches from your face. When she grabs your hair and pulls you toward her clean shaven pussy, which is slick with her own wetness, you finally realize what she wants. "While you wait for your ass to heal, and Master to resume his enjoyment of your ass... Eat me, and do it well slut." Her mound is right there, her vulva demands the attention of your lips, your mouth, your tongue. Her clitoris is practically begging for your touch, hidden partially under her clitorial hood. You're horny again, even though Piru's violent assault of your ass took you out of the moment for a while. But the feeling of helplessness, of willing submission, returns now as Mistress guides your face toward her pussy with determination... [[Give in and eat her pussy like the good concubine you are...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0505.png">Concubine. Slut. Fuck toy. Who even knows the difference... With renewed energy, you turn your full attention to your Mistress and greet her vulva with your warm wet mouth. You can smell her wetness, when you kiss her vulva's outer lips. Then you taste it, briefly, when you lightly suck on her inner lips. You lick it, tasting her more. Her scent is everywhere, her power over you complete as you begin worshiping her pussy with your mouth. You roll your tongue all over her pussy, paying careful attention to her clitoris. Her hands are digging into your hair, pushing you firmly against her vulva. Piru and your ass are forgotten as you lick, suck and nibble at her vulva. Then she pushes you deeper, your tongue seeking its way inside of her. A glance up reveals that Mistress is watching you with intensity, her cheeks blushing, her breath labored. Her naked breasts are bouncing in rhythm with her deep breaths as she too lowers her guard, and embraces the pleasure you're giving her. She's no longer Mistress Gan, the dominant first concubine. Now she's just another woman lost in Piru's infernal magic and pleasure, unable to control herself or her actions. And you join her, eagerly edging her on, pushing her further into helplessness and pleasure. Soon, Mistress is moaning and gasping loudly at the tricks your tongue is doing to her. It is then Piru deems your ass healed enough to join in, and he resumes what he was doing with twice the vigor. He's grunting with appreciation as your ass opens up to him and embraces his cock. You can feel the change. Where there was pain, there now is a pressure that feels good. Where there was panic, there now is a comfortable surrender. [[As Piru pounds into your ass, you continue giving cunningulus to Mistress.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0506.png">Time loses all meaning as the three of you moan, grunt and whimper in turn. You're having a hard time, trying to catch your breath when you can as Mistress keeps pushing your face against her pussy. You can feel her reaching an orgasm at least twice, but she simply wants more, not letting you rest for a moment. And Piru, he is relentless, making your ass feel like it has never done anything else than be pounded by him. Your vision blurs as he pulls your leash, choking you again, but Mistress does not let go of your hair as she firmly ensures your face remains in her pussy. It's almost like you're dreaming as your vision darkens, her pussy your only objective even as you yourself cannot breathe. Piru's pounding has made you weak, and impossibly you can feel a good cramping sensation wash over you in intense waves as you too orgasm, with Piru's cock deep inside of your ass. You pause eating Mistress's pussy for but a tiny moment as you disappear into wave after wave of intense release that feels better than any drug, any sex or any feeling you've ever experienced. Soon after, you hear Piru grunt and feel his cock bursting its seeds straight inside of your ass. But he does not stop pounding, and the waves of pleasure keep on coming... The air in your lungs have well and truly been spent, and everything becomes dark, even as you desperately resume licking Mistress's clitoris. The last thing you remember is the sensation of Master's demonic cock sliding in and out of your ass, lubricated by his sperm, and Mistress's loud gasping as she reaches her third orgasm... [[...|sex time skip]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0522.png">An unknown time later, you awaken, feeling confused and disoriented. Your throat feels fine, not a trace of being choked remains... But you still cannot fathom what possessed you, what took hold of you, when Piru... Black magic sorcery, demonic trickery, all of it. Surely? Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden realization that there's something heavy pushing down on you. Slowly, you get your bearings, awakening further from your unconscious state, only to find yourself still in Piru's bedchamber. You're naked on your back, lying on the obsidian floor, gazing up at the endless ceiling above with its myriad of floating candles. And the thing pushing down on you is another naked woman, unconscious, her hands tied behind her back. She has a ball gag in her mouth and a blindfold over her eyes. She does not look familiar. When you push her to the side and slowly sit up, you notice there must be a dozen women in a similar state scattered around Piru's bed. All are unconscious, naked, and either wearing collars or bound one way or another. Lady Gan is among them, lying naked and face-down on the floor a few feet away in a pool of blood, with a collar around her neck. <<if $ch5_dominate_lady_gan is true>>She is where you last remember seeing her, kicked out of Piru's bed...<<else>>Piru must've taken his turn with her after he was finished with you...<</if>> Your attention turns back to the bed where Piru is presently face-fucking yet another woman. You do not recognize her either. Are all of these women his concubines...? The realization hits you. You're just one of a dozen, aren't you? Neither special, nor unique... Your attention turns to the woman, her mouth's wet slurping sounds only interrupted by her loud gagging as Piru drives his thick member deep into her throat without pause. She's naked, like all of you concubines, but she's restrained by a yoke around her neck, with both of her arms locked in it to either side of her body. She's helplessly fucked by Piru, who deepthroats her relentlessly, but she seems to be enjoying it. It is then you notice that Piru is deliberately preventing her from pulling away, constantly pushing her face ever deeper onto his shaft. And with his other hand, he's blocking her nose, preventing her from breathing. You witness as the woman's face grows redder, her gagging sounds becoming less frequent, quieter. Quite familiar indeed... [[Like a silent witness, you sit there watching without doing a thing...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0523.png">You watch, without the willpower to do a thing as Piru deliberately chokes her, keeping his cock firmly lodged in her throat while pinching her nose. It doesn't take long before she too passes out, like all the other women scattered on the floor around you. Even as she's clearly unconscious, Piru continues fucking her mouth until he grunts, discharging his seeds in her throat. Then he unceremoniously lets go of her, and she falls face first onto the bed, arms and neck bound in her yoke. Piru's seeds spill out of her mouth as she falls, soaking the bed sheets. How all the women - and you - ended up on the floor becomes clear when Piru casually kicks her unconscious body from the bed, joining the others in a pile of naked and bound limbs. It is then Piru's eyes finally turn to you, the only concubine now conscious. There's a burning malice in his eyes unlike you've ever seen before. His true nature is plain to see, from his actions, and from the way he now looks at you. He relishes in taking what he wants, and he doesn't seem satisfied no matter how many women he has in his harem. If a dozen concubines cannot satisfy his unlimited sexual lust, then what can? The answer to that question is quite simply nothing. There is nothing that can satisfy the endless lust of a demon. Except, maybe, boredom. For something changes in Piru's demeanor as he glances around the room, at the heaps of naked, bound and unconscious women scattered haphazardly around his bed. The room reeks of sex, sweat and bodily fluids, with an undertone of infernal smoke and ash. "So, dear Taru, how did you enjoy your first grand orgy? Oh, who am I fooling - you missed all the excitement. Well, there's always next time, eh?" Piru says with a playful smile. Whatever you were thinking of saying is lost as Piru raises his hand. In an instant, your own clothes appear on you.<<if $ch5_dominate_lady_gan is false>> You can feel the pressure of the leather collar around your neck disappear.<</if>> A portal appears below you, swallowing you whole. The last words you hear are: "Until next time, my dear concubine..." [[The portal swallows you.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0524.png">Surrounded by the smell of burning flesh, you disappear into the portal. The chill air of the brewery attic greets you when you land. Fuck... That was more intense than you could've anticipated... But you now realize that you must try to keep him satisfied, for there is a malice in him that is pure evil, like all demons. He is not to be trusted. You recall with vivid detail the torture room and its devices... All things considering, you're incredibly lucky... A quick scan around the attic reveals that it's in the same state you left it. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>A few feet away, the woman you rescued from Tryton's Doom Clock is sleeping. Apparently she either didn't notice you were gone, or didn't care. Neither of those options makes you confident that she'll be a useful ally...<</if>> With a sigh, you sit down on your blanket, feeling a growing sense of unease. It feels like things are slowly spiraling out of control here. But now, you need a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, in the evening, you'll hopefully meet with Einar, at the Rustic Fork Inn.<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>> Before that, you might want to pay a visit with the priests<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>, or Tryton<</if>>. Your top priority right now is to get rid of this infernal pact, no matter what.<<else>><<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Before that, you might want to pay a visit to Tryton. Your top priority right now is to get rid of this infernal pact, no matter what. He might be able to help you.<</if>><</if>> At least you have a clue now as to how you're going to break the pact. Steal the original writ with the pledge... And then what? That's it? Probably not. Nothing is ever that simple... Urgh. But right now, sleep is what you need... Your head is spinning with thoughts as you lie down and close your eyes, wondering what tomorrow will bring... [[Three months earlier...|Chapter 6 start]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_fingers to false>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_strip to false>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_pussy to false>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_leash to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0508.png">You're pleased to take on the role of the dominant, especially considering the way Lady Gan was looking down on you earlier. She is on the floor before you, on her knees, with a collar around her neck. And she's wearing the transparent red silk dress, and black bra and underwear. What now? You're the one in control, as Piru seems content with giving you free reign here. And you love this feeling, but at the same time it scares you. Is this something you want, something you've craved for, to be in control? Or is this Piru's infernal magic, your concubine pledge to him, that now twists your thoughts, your wants and desires? Whatever it is, you feel good. And willingly take on this role as you... [[Command her to show her body to Piru.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_fingers to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0511.png">"Open your slutty mouth." you instruct her. You haven't even stopped your sentence before her mouth opens wide. You take hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at you. Without blinking, she accepts her place as you push three fingers into her mouth, pressing against her tongue on your way to the back of her throat. She gags, but only at the last second, when your whole hand is lodged into her mouth, her teeth brushing against your skin. Tears flow from her eyes, but she keeps her mouth submissively open, until you slowly remove your hand. When she coughs and catches her breath, you smear her saliva on her face, drying your fingers and hand thoroughly. She takes it silently. You find yourself admiring her discipline, the way she acts so naturally as a submissive. <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_strip is false>>[[Rip her clothes from her body.]]<<else>>[[Play with her pussy.]]<</if>> <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_strip is true>>[[Put a leash on her collar.]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0509.png">"Show your body to your Master, Piru, and me." you command. She bows her head to you, knowing her place, and willingly or unwillingly accepts her task. Piru is looking at you and Lady Gan with amusement when she approaches his bed. His eyes rest on her curves, fully visible underneath the silk, before they trail up to her breasts, contained in the black silk bra. Finally, his eyes land on her lips, and then her eyes. "Spin around, submissive Gan." Master instructs her, and without hesitation, she does just that. He admires her full body as she turns around, exposing herself to him. His fully erect cock seems to beckon her into his bed, throbbing with excitement as it is. [[Rip her clothes from her body.]] [[Push your fingers into her mouth.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_strip to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0510.png">She's looking good, you must admit. And a hunger awakens in you. To assert your power over her, yes, but also to see what she looks like naked. A rush of excitement fills you at the prospect. You reach out, grabbing her silk dress, and rip it in two. And not in a gentle manner. Fabric tears as you roughly destroy her dress, and Piru delights in seeing her shocked expression at this treatment. But you're not done. Next, you tear her bra and underwear into pieces in two quick motions, leaving her completely naked with the collar around her neck as her only garment. Wordlessly, she accepts your treatment, sitting silently on her knees next to Piru's bed. [[Play with her pussy.]] [[Put a leash on her collar.]] <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_fingers is false>>[[Push your fingers into her mouth.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_pussy to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0513.png">"Spread your legs, submissive." you instruct her next. Without looking away from Piru, she does so seemingly willingly. Provocatively even. She's on her knees, hands on her thighs, and spreads her legs for you. Slowly, you explore the smoothness of her skin, caressing her back, her hips, her legs... When you return up, you make a point of stopping for a thorough inspection of her ass cheeks, gently cupping them, squeezing them, before finally lightly slapping each of them with the palm of your hand. She remains silent, but her cheeks are blushing, and her breath quickens. Piru, her Master, is watching her expressions closely as you explore submissive Gan's body. A soft movement of his arm alerts you to the fact that he's slowly stroking his rock hard cock, while smiling down on you and Gan. Something in Gan's expression tells you that she wants nothing more than to crawl to his bed and let him ravage her... Without asking for permission, you slide your warm hand toward submissive Gan's wetness between her legs. She whimpers softly at your touch, your fingers exploring her vulva. Then, satisfied with her wetness, you push a finger inside of her. With a frustrated sigh, she surrenders to your touch, as you continue exploring her pussy without hurry. Her wetness offers no resistance as your fingers slide inside of her. Then you pull it out, smearing her wetness over her clitoris. She surrenders and closes her eyes, moaning with pleasure as you gently caress her clitoris and fuck her with your fingers. Your own pussy is growing wet and excited from her labored breaths... <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_leash is false>>[[Put a leash on her collar.]]<<else>>[[Play with her ass.]]<</if>> <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_leash is true>>[[Ask Piru if he'd like to use his slut.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch5_dominate_gan_leash to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0512.png">Piru has a bunch of toys here in his bedroom. Without hesitating, you walk up to the rack of equipment and select a leather leash. Submissive Gan is silently waiting for your return, and Piru gives you a nod of approval, a sly smile on his face. With leash in hand, you secure it in the empty ring on her collar, just below her chin. She does not resist. She knows her place. To make a point, you pull her toward you by her leash, forcing her to crawl and follow you. You walk closer to the bed, handing the reign of the leash to Piru, who sits towering above her in his bed. When he pulls the leash, she's forced to look up and stretch her neck, her eyes meeting his. What he sees pleases him. Seeing the exchange stirs something within you, and you feel your breasts swelling with excitement, your nipples hardening when Piru pulls Lady Gan's leash. There's a growing, aching, wetness awakening between your legs when you let your imagination run wild... [[Ask Piru if he'd like to use his slut.]] [[Play with her ass.]] <<if $ch5_dominate_gan_pussy is false>>[[Play with her pussy.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0515.png">"Oh Splendor Demon Majesty, would you want to make use of your submissive slut now?" you ask politely. When Piru pulls submissive Gan's leash, forcing her to crawl up into his bed, it becomes clear that he does. "Tell your Master that you want him to use your ass as he likes." you command her. She's on all fours in Piru's bed, in front of him, naked except for the collar around her neck. Piru is pulling the leash on her collar toward him, and looks at her, expecting her to repeat your words... To your astonishment, she seems willing and submissive as she says: "Please, Master, use my ass any way you like..." Piru's smile is victorious, your and his control over submissive Gan complete, as she willingly begs for Piru to fuck her ass. He gets up on his knees, waiting for her to come to him. And she does, crawling on all fours until his cock is inches from her face. Then, with a final glance up at the demon holding the leash to her collar, she turns around, exposing her ass to him. And being a demon, he has no intentions of being gentle. With both hands firmly on her hips, he pulls her toward him, forcefully shoving his thick demonic cock deep inside of her ass in one quick motion. The shocked look on her face and loud gasp make it clear she wasn't prepared for this. She screams, in pain, as his dick slams into her. From the sounds alone you'd think her ass ruptures a bit as he enters, his cock penetrating her exposed anus. He stops her cries and shouts by pulling on the leash, choking her with the collar. Then he begins pounding her, ever pulling her throat toward him. She's unable to breath, unable to cry out, as he destroys her ass in an assault that leaves her shaking in panic. All this you witness as a bystander, mesmerized and terrified at the same time. And feeling lucky that this isn't you, even though a tiny dark corner of yourself wants to experience this. Wants to be used like that... [[Just continue watching.|watch gan]] [[Make submissive Gan eat your pussy.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0514.png">"Your ass needs inspection, submissive Gan. Relax and spread your asscheeks with your hands." you instruct, your tone of voice demanding her full obedience, leaving no room for her to resist or refuse. She hesitates only a short moment. With labored breaths, she leans down onto the floor, while Piru pulls her collar playfully. On the floor, she leans down face first, her breasts and chest hugging the obsidian stone. With her ass in the air, legs helpfully spread, she reaches behind her back with her hands and firmly grabs an asscheek in each. And she obeys your instruction, parting her asscheeks, revealing to you her exposed and vulnerable hole, her most private part. She takes on her role admirably, as an object to be commanded, admired and used. "You love sharing your ass with everyone, don't you?" you mock as you kneel down behind her, your hand tracing the smooth skin of her exposed asscheeks, slowly circling in towards her gaping asshole. She's trembling. With anticipation? With dread? It's hard to say... But you can see her wetness running down her leg, dripping onto the floor below. She's extremely horny, and desperate to be used. By you. And by Piru. Without hesitating, you run your hand up her thigh, gathering all her wetness on your fingers. You pay a short visit in her pussy, teasing her, but as soon as your hand is slick with her juices, you move up. Gently, you probe her ass, testing, thoroughly lubricating it. She's been holding her breath, which she is forced to release in shock when you push your finger into her. Gasping and stunned, she remains on the floor, face down as you begin methodically pushing your finger in and out of her ass. Your finger eventually forces her ass to relax. Slowly, she lets her hands fall to the floor, no longer keeping her ass open. And it's not needed, as her ass has relaxed enough to fully embrace your finger. She seems to fall into a comfortable rhythm and position, with her legs spread wide. You caress her asshole, making her whimper in pleasure. When it is clear she has completely immersed herself in this, you continue to wordlessly fuck her ass with your finger. Soon, she's a whimpering mess and you add another finger, and slow down for just a moment as her ass adjusts to the new pressure. Then, you pick up the pace again, relentlessly fucking her ass with two fingers. Her ass is a mess, clenching in confusion when you pull your fingers out, only to yield and give way as you push them back in. The wet sloppy sounds of her vulnerable anus being used by you echoes in Piru's bedchamber. That, and the sound of her moans and whimpers. Abruptly, you stop, leaving her confused on the floor as she catches her breath. You then thoroughly clean your hand on her ruined silk dress, letting her catch her breath. Eventually, she recovers, resuming her kneeling position next to Piru's bed. His cock has grown massive with excitement at the display... [[Ask Piru if he'd like to use his slut.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0516.png">Piru suddenly stops, his cock inside of submissive Gan, and lets her breathe. Choking, coughing, she gasps for air in panic. "Your ass will heal like always, Submissive Gan, don't forget that..." Piru reminds her. She seems to relax then... With renewed energy, Piru resumes what he was doing with twice the vigor. He's grunting with appreciation as her ass opens up to him and embraces his cock. You can see a change in submissive Gan. Where there was shocked gasps of pain, there now is moaning with pleasure as Piru fucks her deep in her ass, pounding into her, destroying every inch of resistance as she is reduced to a whimpering mess who just wants more. All this you watch, while you feel your own wetness growing, your breath growing faster and heart beating louder in your chest. You find yourself touching your breasts, feeling the soft silk of your dress and bra between your fingers, digging into your nipples within. [[Continue watching the two.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0518.png">Piru suddenly stops, his cock inside of submissive Gan, and lets her breathe. Choking, coughing, she gasps for air in panic. "Your ass will heal like always, Submissive Gan, don't forget that..." Piru reminds her. She seems to relax then... Now it's your turn. You approach the bed, where submissive Gan is desperately trying to breathe normally, and Piru has lodged his cock inside of her ass without moving it. You casually undress, removing your silk dress, your silk bra and finally your silk underwear. You stand there like a beautiful, terrifying and naked Mistress, before you too crawl onto the bed. She looks you in the eyes as you approach. She is on all fours in front of Piru, her ass toward the demon. You stop right in front of her and smile, then sit down on your back, your pussy inches from her face. You grab her hair and pull her toward your pussy, which is slick with your own wetness and excitement. It is intoxicating, this feeling of power over someone else. After a moment, she quickly understands what you want her to do. But just to make sure, you say: "While you wait for your ass to heal, and Master to resume his enjoyment of your ass... Eat me, and do it well slut." Your mound is right there, your vulva demands the attention of her lips, her mouth, her tongue. You're horny from dominating her. You guide her face toward your pussy with determination... [[Submissive Gan surrenders to her Mistress and eats your pussy.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0519.png">Concubine. Slut. Fuck toy. Who even knows the difference... With astonishing energy, submissive Gan turns her full attention to her Mistress, you, and greets your vulva with her warm wet mouth. No doubt she can smell your wetness, when she kisses your vulva's outer lips. Then taste it, when she lightly sucks on your inner lips. She continues licking it, tasting you even more. Your power over her is complete as she begins worshiping your pussy with her mouth. She rolls her tongue all over your pussy, paying careful attention to your clitoris. All this while your hands are digging into her hair, pushing her firmly against your vulva. Piru and her hurting ass seem to be forgotten as she licks, sucks and nibbles at your pussy. Then you push her deeper, her tongue seeking its way inside of you. She glances up at you, your blushing cheeks, and naked breasts bouncing in rhythm with your deep breaths as you begin to lower your guard, fully embracing the pleasure she's giving you. You're no longer Mistress Taru, the dominant concubine. Now you're just another woman lost in Piru's infernal magic and pleasure, unable to control yourself or your actions. And she joins you, eagerly edging you on, pushing you further into helplessness and pleasure. Soon, you're moaning and gasping loudly at the tricks her tongue are doing to you. It is then Piru deems her ass has healed enough to join in, and he resumes what he was doing with twice the vigor. He's grunting with appreciation as her ass opens up to him and embraces his cock. You can feel a change in submissive Gan. Where there was shocked gasps of pain, there now is moaning with pleasure as Piru fucks her deep in her ass, pounding into her, sending her face deeper into your pussy. [[Piru pounds her ass relentlessly.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0520.png">Time loses all meaning as the three of you moan, grunt and whimper in turn. Submissive Gan is having a hard time, trying to catch her breath when she can as you keep pushing her face against your pussy. You reach an orgasm twice, but you're lost in something otherworldly, something that has taken a hold of your thoughts completely. You want more, and you do not allow submissive Gan to rest for one moment. And Piru, he is relentless, pounding her ass like it was meant for only that purpose. Submissive Gan chokes as Piru pulls on her leash, but you refuse to let go of her hair and instead firmly ensure her face remains in your pussy. You make sure your pussy is her only objective, even as she herself cannot breath, choked by the collar and leash, and your pussy. She moans, telling you she too reached a climax from this treatment, from Piru's pounding. She pauses eating your pussy for but a tiny moment as she disappears into the pleasure of her orgasm. Soon after, you hear Piru grunt and see his seeds shooting out of her ass in a violent burst, as he delivers his massive load deep into her asshole. But he does not stop pounding, and submissive Gan keeps moaning. She's weak as she resumes her licking of your clitoris, and her face is alarmingly red. Her vision is unfocused, her efforts disoriented as she desperately tries to please you, even as she gasps for air. Then she stops, her stare blank and empty. You realize that she has either fainted or choked to death. Is there even a difference in Piru's realm, where all manner of fatal wounds, suffocating included, are healed easily? Piru notices the change, and for a few more moments thrusts into her with vigor, until he lets her unconscious body fall flat onto the bed sheets, covered from face to ass in your, her and his juices. Your heart is pounding as you stare at his demonic cock with hunger, and without skipping a beat, he pushes submissive Gan out of the bed. She falls unceremoniously onto the obsidian floor below with a sickening crack as her head hits the floor, but neither you nor Piru pay any attention to unimportant details like that. She'll heal, like everyone else. You lie down on your back onto the bed, helpfully spreading your legs for your demon lord... [[Piru approaches you with his throbbing cock...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0521.png">Piru wastes no time as he ascends upon you. He grabs you underneath your knees with both hands and pulls you closer, spreading your legs further. You let out a cry of excitement as the tip of his demonic cock brushes against your vulva, smearing it with his slimy seeds. The fact that his cock was just inside of submissive Gan's asshole has no meaning. Not here in Piru's infernal realm. Everything is dedicated to debauchery, everything is corrupted, and everything is safe to enjoy here, even death. A quick glance down reveals submissive Gan, who's bleeding from her head onto the obsidian floor. But Piru's member soon has your attention, as he slides himself inside of you in an instant, forcing the air out of you. He knows you're ready. You know you're ready. And without a wasted second, he fucks you like no one has ever fucked you before. He keeps your legs spread wide with his arms under your knees as he delivers the full length of his shaft inside of you, his balls slapping hard against your buttocks with each thrust. The air in your lungs is forced out of you with each violent thrust, making you gasp for air the whole time. You can feel yourself drifting to another place, a realm of pure pleasure, seeing clearly the allure of Piru's infernal realm in your current state of mind. His cock slides in, forcing you to gasp, only to slide almost all the way out, giving you a tiny moment to compose yourself before it slides back in. He repeats this, time and again, sliding in and out, while you become a blabbering moaning mess. You're no longer Taru. You're his fuck toy. Nothing but meat for him to enjoy. And your new role satisfies you immensely. Piru seems to think you're getting too much air, even as you struggle to catch your breath. He frees his right hand from under your knee, then brings it to your throat, pinning you down hard against the bed sheets. He comes closer, leans over you. He is looking straight down at you, his hand almost crushing your throat as he forces you deep into the soft bed below. You stare into his eyes, unable to draw a single breath. But he simply keeps on fucking you, using your pussy like he wants, sending wave upon wave of pleasure through your body. Your vision blurs, and you can feel a pressure in your eyes, in your head, as Piru forcefully chokes your throat. But somehow, you don't care about that. All you care right now is that he doesn't stop fucking you for a second, and he admirably abides by your wishes as he hammers into you, thrusting the full length of his impossible massive demonic cock deep inside of you again and again. And again... Your world grows darker. And again... Piru disappears from your vision, replaced by a blurry red shape, surrounded by dark clouds. And again... The last thing you remember is a roaring climax as your body orgasms, spasming under Piru's harsh possessive and violent treatment... [[...|sex time skip]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0517.png">Time loses meaning as the two of them moan, grunt and whimper in turn. Submissive Gan is having a hard time, trying to catch her breath, but Piru is deliberately choking her, pinning her onto his cock with a constant strong pull on the leash and the collar around her neck. He is relentless, pounding her ass like it was meant for only that purpose. Submissive Gan moans, telling you she has reached a climax from Piru's treatment, from his pounding. Soon after, you hear Piru grunt and see his seeds shooting out of her ass in a violent burst, as he delivers his massive load deep into her asshole. But he does not stop pounding, and submissive Gan keeps moaning. She's looking weak and her face is alarmingly red. Her vision is unfocused, her efforts unrewarded as she desperately tries to gasp for air. Then she stops in her tracks, her stare blank and empty. You realize that she has either fainted or choked to death. Is there even a difference in Piru's realm, where all manner of fatal wounds, suffocating included, are healed easily? Piru notices the change, and for a few more moments thrusts into her with vigor, until he lets her unconscious body fall flat onto the bed sheets, covered in her and his juices. Your heart is pounding as you stare at his demonic cock, suddenly unable to think of anything else. Without skipping a beat, he pushes submissive Gan out of the bed. She falls unceremoniously onto the obsidian floor below with a sickening crack as her head hits the floor, but neither you nor Piru pay any attention to unimportant details like that. She'll heal, like everyone else. He doesn't have to say any words. His eyes say it all: Get up in the bed, right now. It is your turn Taru... It is like your body has a will on its own as you crawl onto the bed, eyes fixed in Piru and his slick throbbing cock, impossibly large, impossible to resist. As soon as you feel the bed sheets under your hands and knees, Piru is upon you, forcefully tearing the fabric of your silk dress. Your breasts are freed from their cage as he rips your bra in two, before pulling apart your underwear, revealing your soaking wet, eager and thus far neglected pussy. You lie down on your back onto the bed, helpfully spreading your legs for your demon lord... [[Piru approaches you with his throbbing cock...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_spicy">> <<set $ch6_einar_points to 0>> <<set $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor to false>> <<set $ch6_towel_on to false>> <<set $ch6_ice_bath to false>> <<set $ch6_flash_tits to false>> <<set $ch6_failed_mission to false>> <<set $ch6_kill_with_kerr to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0540.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 6 - Calm Before The Storm (Flashback)</h4>Three months earlier... "Alright folks, let's go through this one more time." Ylva says to the gathered gang, a scattered pile of parchments with lists, plans and maps in front of her. She scans the room, eyeing each gang member individually. It's been three days since Hermes Dirk's contract was approved by the gang. No one talks about the scene caused in the tavern anymore, not after Arne's stern talking to. He is right, of course, you should've been more careful. But that's in the past. Right now, the planning of the heist is in full swing. Sitting in the attic hideout can only get you so far, however. Now the gang needs to get out there, and start preparing for the heist. When no one answers, Ylva sighs. "Einar, walk us through your task..." she says, while massaging her forehead. Einar, sitting next to you around the attic table, discreetly rolls his eyes to you, before saying: "Sure... Me and the most dashing Bolt next to me will head out on a few days worth of recon, trying to find a couple of "weak links" in the palace guards to "retire early". We'll stay at the lovely Rustic Fork Inn for the duration of the mission." Ylva seems satisfied with the answer. "Arne, how about you...?" The second-in-command asks the actual leader of the gang. He raises a single eyebrow, but smiles, knowing full well how anal Ylva is for details. "Me and Kerr will use charms, force, or shadows to figure out exactly where in the exhibition hall the blue diamond is, the number of locks, the types of locks, etc. etc." Arne replies calmly, glancing a look in Kerr's direction. He nods, then returns his attention to his knives, sharpening them with a small whetstone. "Good... Ebbe and Erika?" [[Ylva eyes the pair with suspicion.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0542.png">"Dismissed." Ylva announces. And just like that, the time for sitting and talking is over. And the time for action is near. Each member of the gang turns to their bunks, checking their gear, preparing to head out. One by one, the attic empties, even Ebbe with the little ones Hulda and Balder head out, ready to gather supplies. You decide to find your pair for the mission, Einar. He is in the process of packing his backpack, and smiles when he sees you. "So, a couple of days of watching guards, huh? Sounds thrilling. Who knew we'd get the best job out of the bunch?" He grins, a glint in his eyes as he secures the straps of his backpack. "Glad it's you I'm stuck watching them with." He adds. Is there a hint of nervousness in his smile just then, or just a flicker of the whale oil candle's light? "Oh, the excitement is unbearable." You roll your eyes, smirking, grabbing your own backpack. "Soon we'll be hiding in the bushes, counting how often a guard scratches his nose. Truly, the height of adventure!" Both of you have changed into warm winter clothing, ready to brave the icy late winter frosts that now ravage Valkama. The two of you are about to head out through the normally boarded up window, jumping onto the roof of the opposite building, when Arne's voice halts you: "Taru, a word." You give Einar a nervous glance, gesturing that you'll catch up with him. He heads out, and you return to the common room where Arne is sitting alone by the large table. "Sit, please." he instructs. [[You do so nervously. What's this about?]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0545.png">Say what you will about Einar, but you respect a man who tries to rise above the grim reality. "You know, I think that's one of the things I like about you, Einar. Never change, alright?" you tell him, hiding a smile. But he shrugs, probably thinking you're being sarcastic. "Bah, don't worry, I'm not all soft you know. I'll get the job done, don't worry." You drop the subject with a smile on your lips, continuing your journey. From the rooftops, the sprawling metropolis stretches endlessly in every direction, its snow-covered houses glistening beneath the pale winter sun. Chimney smoke spirals upward, blending with the crisp morning air, while narrow streets snake through the city below like veins. The sunlight, though weak in the cold, casts a gentle warmth over the frost-laden roofs, making the snow glitter. Far on the horizon, distant spires and towers rise above the sea of buildings, a testament to the city's immense size and vibrant life even in the biting chill of winter. [[The two of you continue your way across the rooftops.]]

<<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]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0541.png">Ebbe happens to have a tankard of ale in his face, and is unable to answer Ylva's query. Erika clears her throat: "Ebbe and I will take care of things here at the hideout while you lot are out for a couple of days. Balder and Hulda will stay here with us. We will also gather supplies and find two escape carriages, and six horses that do not scare easily. We will do it officially, meaning, we will straight up buy the carriages and horses, dipping into the funds Hermes Dirk gave us. The reason being..." Ylva raises her hand. "Thank you Erika, it's clear you know what to do. Right, so that leaves me and Astrid. First, we'll convince the least qualified drunks we can find to sign up for guard duty at the palace. Then, we'll modify the registry for guard recruits, putting the least qualified at the top while erasing the best from the list. The guards replacing those Einar and Taru "retire" will be useless amateurs, making our lives easier." Ylva concludes. It's hard to tell, but Astrid looks nervous. Arne, sensing this, places a comforting hand on her shoulder, as if to say 'you can do it'. A rare gesture from her father. You give Ylva a glance. It's no coincidence they're pairing her up with Ylva, is it? That makes you wonder... Whose idea was it to send Astrid out on a mission at all? Certainly not Arne's. No, you're pretty sure this was Ylva's idea. Might have something to do with what happened in the tavern? Get her thinking of something else, or ensure she doesn't retreat inside of herself, like one of those green hard-shelled sea creatures from the south. Well, you agree with them anyway. It's good Astrid finally gets out there, like the rest of you. "Don't count your eggs before you have a basket." Ebbe suddenly says philosophically. With his tankard of ale empty, he's now busy cleaning his ears with an tiny metallic ear spoon. It looks ridiculously small in the hands of 'The Boar' of a man. A heartfelt laughter echoes in the attic. "Quite so Ebbe..." Arne says, trying his best to hide his own smile. [[The mood around the table is electric. Everyone's eager to get started.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0543.png">"Look... I just want you to know that I appreciate what you and Erika are doing with Astrid." Arne starts. You're taken by surprise. Didn't he just lecture you, and Erika, and Astrid, with a harsh tone two days ago about the danger you put yourselves and the gang in? Baffled, you're unable to form a response, and so Arne continues: "I've seen it. She's grown timid, scared. It's my fault, I know that. I shouldn't be sheltering her... Ylva made me see that..." he admits, looking truly concerned for Astrid and genuinely remorseful. Well, you totally agree with that statement. But it all makes sense now. The reason why Ylva is taking Astrid on a mission. All part of toughening her up. "So yeah. In front of the rest of the crew, I've got to seem tough, set an example. Don't go telling the others about our little discussion though, hmm? And going to the tavern was risky as all hells - don't get me wrong. But, I do appreciate the thought behind it. In the future, just keep an eye on her, alright?" Arne concludes, and waves his hand in the general direction of the open window. "Sure, I will. Thanks Arne..." you manage to say as you scramble out of the room, confused, out onto the rooftops of Valkama, chasing after Einar. So Arne is finally going to let his daughter participate in all the gang activities. It's about time! [[Find Einar.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0545.png">Say what you will about Einar, but the world can be cruel for a man who tries to rise above its grim reality. "As long as you remember that it's kill or be killed, alright?" you tell him, hiding a frown. But he shrugs, probably thinking you're being sarcastic. "Bah, don't worry, I'm not all soft you know. I'll get the job done, don't worry." You decide to drop the subject for now and continue your journey. From the rooftops, the sprawling metropolis stretches endlessly in every direction, its snow-covered houses glistening beneath the pale winter sun. Chimney smoke spirals upward, blending with the crisp morning air, while narrow streets snake through the city below like veins. The sunlight, though weak in the cold, casts a gentle warmth over the frost-laden roofs, making the snow glitter. Far on the horizon, distant spires and towers rise above the sea of buildings, a testament to the city's immense size and vibrant life even in the biting chill of winter. [[The two of you continue your way across the rooftops.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_alone2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0544.png">The snow covering the rooftops can be treacherous, hiding a sheet of ice underneath. Carefully, you follow Einar's footsteps. He hasn't made it far, casually walking on the rooftops like he owns them. You've caught up with him in no time. "Trouble?" then he sees your expression. "Ah, so not trouble. Good news, I hope?" he queries, eager to know what you discussed with Arne. "He umm... Wanted to know if Astrid is ready for the mission." you lie, not about to break Arne's trust by spilling the topic of your discussion with Einar. But luckily, your best friend smiles and nods. "Of course she is! I hope you told him that." And you find yourself nodding, a smile on your own lips. "Naturally. She's been ready for years, I told him. Glad he finally saw it himself." The two of you reach a gap between buildings and ready your grappling hooks. "Damn straight." he concludes, throwing his hook. The two of you jump the gap, feet landing softly on the wall of the building on the opposite side of the street. Then you ascend, making your way back onto the rooftops. "Back to our mission... It's a grim task. Now we're just watching, picking out targets. But then..." His words trail off, his tone shifting from light to serious. "Getting cold feet? It's actually pretty clever, replacing veteran guards with incompetent buffoons. If it works, of course." you reply thoughtfully. He shrugs as the two of you carefully navigate the tiled rooftops, heading toward your target in the far distance: The Rustic Fork Inn, which will be your base of operations for the next few days. "I suppose. Doesn't mean I have to like it. Killing isn't good for the soul, you know?" Einar says after a moment. You find it difficult to fully relate to his sentiment. After all, the two of you have lived on the streets, on the run, for the better half of your lives together. That he still hasn't accepted that it's kill or be killed worries you a little bit. He tries to have morals in a world where morals usually send you to an early grave. [[You respect him for it.]] [[You feel he should face reality.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0546.png">The morning sun is warming you, even as the northern winds and the chill of the late winter frost tries to cool you. Quite a typical weather for Valkama this time of the year. Just a hint of Spring, but still firmly gripped by winter. "You ever think about your mother, Tyrni? Think she would be proud?" Einar suddenly asks, his boots sinking into the wet snow with a muted crunch, each step heavy and deliberate, watching for potential ice underneath. What's gotten into him, is he eeling sentimental? He and Erika lost their parents too, which can naturally make you question your place in the world, forever seeking their phantom approval. "Of course. I think of her all the time... But less than I used to, I hate to admit." you respond, thinking carefully on his second question. Would she be proud? That you've survived, certainly. That you've had to kill and steal to do so... That's doubtful. "I think she'd have a few things to say, a lecture or two. But all in all... I think yeah, she would be proud. It's damned impressive to stay alive all by yourself in Valkama." you conclude. "Not by yourself, Taru. You've had and still have us, your new family." Einar quickly adds with a wink and a smile. You yield to his logic. "Fine! Almost by myself. What about you though? Feeling nostalgic for your parents?" you ask, uncertain what his answer will be. He's quiet for a moment. "I think Erika is feeling more nostalgic lately. I don't know." A chilly gust of wind has the two of you hugging your cloaks tighter around your bodies as you continue your way toward your target. "We've stayed up long lately, talking about our parents. It's funny how you think you remember them, but when I hear Erika talk about them... It's like she's describing different people, you know?" Puzzled, you listen to him, trying to put yourself in his situation. But no, you actually do not know. You've got no one to talk to about your mother. No one who knew her. No memories to share with you, no references, no cute little details. But you decide to nod, allowing him to continue, saying: [["Right. Go on."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0547.png">He seems relieved by your comment, and continues: "Like... Ok, small things. Like the color of their eyes. I swear our mom had deep blue eyes, but Erika insists that they were brown. Brown! That's not even close to blue." His frustration is clear, and in that moment you feel it, the reason for his frustration. It's not about a disagreement with Erika. It's about losing the most important thing in his life - the memory of his parents. And that you can relate to, completely. "I know what you mean... If I'm being honest, I can't remember the color of my mom's eyes either... Strange, isn't it?" "Damn straight. Anyway, I shouldn't complain. There's two of us keeping the memory of our parents alive, but you're all on your own. Sorry, that came out the wrong way..." Einar says awkwardly, as if he's trying to say something else but fails miserably. "It's alright. I don't see the point in crying over something you can't change." you retort, not about to let yourself be emotional again. The times you've cried over losing your mother are countless, and that well's gone dry years ago. "What I'm trying to say, Taru... Nevermind." he trails off, leaving the unfinished sentence hanging in the air. "Anyway, back to Astrid for a moment... Is she alright, after what happened at the tavern?" he adds. [[You find yourself wondering the same.]]

<<silently>> <<if $ch2_furious_woman_alive is true>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0548.png">You pause for a moment, recalling the scene at the tavern. Astrid's face, tight with shock, the way she'd tried to brush it off like it was nothing... "All things considered... Yeah, I'd say so. And this mission she's on with Ylva? I hope she comes out stronger after all this." you muse after careful consideration. "And that woman… The jealous one?" Einar asks. You shake your head. "She attacked out of nowhere, all hell and fury. Could've sliced us all up right there and then, the bitch." you conclude, still angry at the disproportionately aggressive wife of Gareth. May she rot in hell. "What happened to her anyway?" Einar asks, curious. <<if $ch2_furious_woman_alive is true>>"She's fine. Out there somewhere terrorizing other women, no doubt." you reply, shrugging.<<else>>"She's... Well let's just say she won't be causing anyone any more trouble." you reply, hestitant to share the details with Einar of all people. "So she's... Dead? Self defence?" he asks, hearing your unspoken words. "Yeah, self defence..." you lie, not about to dig into the details further.<</if>> Einar seems satisfied with the answer, but you feel a sense of unease at how it all played out. [[Continue to the Rustic Fork Inn.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0549.png">The rest of the day is spent talking about less serious topics, enjoying the moments of sunlight in the bitter cold. The two of you take a short rest, and share a meal of bread and dried whale meat, washed down with cold water. The northern mountains tower over Valkama in the distance, their majestic snow-covered peaks never thawing. Soon, you're on your way again. You follow the rooftops and the massive Inner City Wall up north, an easy landmark that is guaranteed to take you to your destination. Rustic Fork Inn is located on the less prestigious outer side of the wall, but it serves as a good starting point for your operations into the Inner City for the coming mission. When you're near the inn, you start looking for a way down to the street level without being seen. There are no guard patrols in sight at least. The two of you descend unseen with your ropes, landing softly on the frost and mud-covered streets below. Snow from the roof falls on you as you land, somehow findings its way expertly between your neck and your shirt. "Ah, shite!" you shout involuntarily, trying your best to shake it out. Einar laughs as he helps you, and soon your ice cold surprise is but a memory. When you continue your way, this time on street level, you are both on edge. You're no longer in the safety of the rooftops. No, you're in a shady part of town, about to stay in a shady inn for many days. It's time to establish yourselves as people not to be messed with, without drawing too much attention. The sign for the inn greets you as you round the corner. [[Enter the Rustic Fork Inn.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0550.png">It's early evening when you arrive, and as expected the inn is crowded. No musicians are playing and the silence hangs in the air like a promise of trouble. Either a sorry lot, or a hardened lot, at a first glance it's impossible to tell. The inn is dimly lit and grimy, where the air hangs heavy with smoke and soot, illuminated only by the flicker of whale oil candles casting long, distorted shadows. The common room feels oppressive, its low ceilings and insect-eaten wooden beams closing in on the figures huddled at worn tables, their eyes glinting in the gloom. The scent of stale ale and sweat fills the air, mingling with the low murmur of hushed conversations and the occasional clink of metal. Einar and you confidently make your way to the bar, where a hulking man of an innkeeper greets you. His face is scarred by the remnants of pox, a lucky man to be alive indeed, but hideously deformed for life as a result. You choose to ignore his affliction. You want him on your good side, after all. "Say, friend, you wouldn't happen to have spare rooms for me and my companion, for a whole week?" Einar asks, leaning over the bar. He's talking at a normal voice. A few of the other patrons perk their ears, turning their attention to you. With a bored expression, you lean your back against the bar next to Einar, scanning the room. You look each and every patron in the eye, judging them. Most cast their gaze down when you meet their eyes, but one defiantly stares back. You decide to drop it for now, continuing your scan around the room. "Two rooms? Nah, sorry. For the whole week, all we've got is one room, with one bed. A small one, too." The innkeeper explains, planting his massive hand on the counter in front of Einar. "And I only accept payment in advance. The room for the week... 21 silver." he adds. Einar glances your way, suddenly not so sure about this. It's not the worst deal you've heard, or the worst place you've slept, the Gods know that. You turn around, giving your full attention to the greasy innkeeper. You say to Einar and the innkeeper: [["We'll take it."]] [["We'll take it, but we expect free supper every evening for the inconvenience."]] [["There's no way we're sharing a single bed."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0551.png">"We'll take it." One bed is not going to be a problem. Einar nods his head at your words. "Throw in another 10 silver and you'll get supper every evening." the innkeeper adds. "Sounds lovely. You have yourself a deal." you say with a warm smile on your lips, gesturing to Einar to pay the man. He is, after all, carrying the coins needed to fund this small mission of yours. While the innkeeper and Einar sort out the coins and their authenticity, you give another scan around the room. The attention no longer seems to be on you, which is good. Soon, the innkeeper and Einar shake hands, and he disappears into the kitchen, presumably to fetch your supper. Einar cleans his hand in disgust on his cloak, likely praying to the Gods that he doesn't catch a dormant variant of the pox from the innkeeper. [[The innkeeper returns with your supper and shows you to a table.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0551.png">"We'll take it - but we expect free supper every evening for the inconvenience." One bed is not going to be a problem. Einar looks shocked, and the innkeeper looks like he's about to throw the two of you out. For a moment, he thinks, but eventually his expression softens. "Tell you what... For 25 silver, I'll offer the two of your supper for the week, and a room. Final offer. Deal?" he replies, confident in his offer. Fine, that's probably as good a deal as you're going to get. "You have yourself a deal." you say with a warm smile on your lips, gesturing to Einar to pay the man. He is, after all, carrying the coins needed to fund this small mission of yours. While the innkeeper and Einar sort out the coins and their authenticity, you give another scan around the room. The attention no longer seems to be on you, which is good. Soon, the innkeeper and Einar shake hands, and he disappears into the kitchen, presumably to fetch your supper. Einar cleans his hand in disgust on his cloak, likely praying to the Gods that he doesn't catch a dormant variant of the pox from the innkeeper. [[The innkeeper returns with your supper and shows you to a table.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0552.png">"What brings you to this part of town anyway? Pleasure or business?" the innkeeper asks with a sly smile on his face as Einar and you sit down at one of the only free tables at the inn. He places your supper before you, a steaming hot stew with potatoes, tiny bits of meat and blodpalt dumplings floating on the surface. No doubt whale blodpalt. It's a traditional meat amongst the common folk in Valkama, called rössy. "Business, although we're sure to enjoy the pleasures of your fine establishment" Einar reveals, digging into his rössy with a wooden spoon. Apparently, he's quickly gotten over his fear over the innkeeper's pox? You, on the other hand, eye the stew with suspicion. "What kind of folks frequent your fine inn anyway? It seems to be a mixed bunch, I reckon." you add, trying to shift the conversation away from you and Einar and back to the innkeeper. "Ah, why indeed. We get all sorts of folk in here, but mostly those who like to keep to themselves, if you catch my meaning. You'll scarcely notice they're here most of the time." he says, pouring a tankard of ale to each of you. It's watered down, you realize, when you take a sip. Typical. Einar thoughtfully chews on a blood dumpling and you finally dig into your own stew. There's an overpowering taste of whale blood, and there's far too little seasoning to hide it. But it'll have to do. "Don't be strangers now. Your room is the last door on the left, up the stairs." The innkeeper says, placing a rusty iron key on the table between you and Einar. He picks it up, sliding it into one of this many pockets. "Thank you. This is good rössy, just like my mom used to make!" Einar says to the innkeeper, who scoffs and smiles, and leaves the two of you alone. [[Relax. Tomorrow the work begins.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0553.png">The two of you enjoy the rest of the evening by playing cards, laughing and enjoying each other's company. When the evening turns to night, the two of you retire to your shared bedroom upstairs. The room is tiny, smells funky and the window lets in a cold draft. You place your backpacks and gear in the corner, frowning at your base of operation for the next week. Even the cold warehouse attic looks like luxury compared to this. <<if $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor is true>>While you inspect the bed for bugs, Einar rolls out his thick cloak on the floor, and wraps your cloak as a blanket on top.<<else>>The two of you inspect the bed for bugs, finding none. That's at least something... Einar says with a shrug: "I'll sleep on the floor, that bed looks too small for two." You glance at him, suddenly uncertain. It's pretty cold here...<</if>> [[Say good night to Einar and sleep alone in the bed.]] <<if $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor is false>>[[Convince him he should sleep in the bed with you.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0551.png">The innkeeper looks at you with disappointment, and from the corner of your eye you can see Einar, who for just a tiniest moment betrays an expression that you can't help but describe as hurt. Well, as close as the two of you are, it's a bit too much to spend a week sharing a bed with him. "Well that's all I have to offer. You're free to take your business elsewhere, if the room available doesn't suit you." the innkeeper says with a stern look on his face. "It's not a big deal. I'll sleep on the floor." Einar injects. Fine, a compromise. "Fine. We'll take it - but we expect free supper every evening for the inconvenience, and a discount." you say, with a stern voice of your own. The innkeeper looks like he's about to throw the two of you out. For a moment, he thinks, but eventually his expression softens. "Alright, you make your case young lady. 20 silver for the room, for a week, and I'll offer the two of you supper each day. Final offer. Do we have a deal?" he finally replies. Fine, that's probably as good a deal as you're going to get. "You have yourself a deal." you say with a false smile on your lips, gesturing to Einar to pay the man. He is, after all, carrying the coins needed to fund this small mission of yours. While the innkeeper and Einar sort out the coins and their authenticity, you give another scan around the room. The attention no longer seems to be on you, which is good. Soon, the innkeeper and Einar shake hands, and he disappears into the kitchen, presumably to fetch your supper. Einar cleans his hand in disgust on his cloak, likely praying to the Gods that he doesn't catch a dormant variant of the pox from the innkeeper. [[The innkeeper returns with your supper and shows you to a table.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0556.png">You're the first to wake up the next day, interrupted by the horrid screams of a rooster. Not a particularly common sound in the metropolitan city of Valkama, but not unheard of either. <<if $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor is true>>Einar is still peacefully sleeping on the floor, wrapped inside your cloak. You're glad he didn't insist on sleeping in the bed.<<else>>Einar is still peacefully sleeping next to you in the bed, his hand resting on your stomach on the top of your blanket. When did that happen? Well, it's time to wake up and get to work anyway...<</if>> You get up, then gently wake Einar from his deep slumber. "What in the what... Oh fuck me..." Einar mumbles, yawning loudly. Clearly, he would've needed a few more hours of sleep. "Time to spy on some guards, remember? Let's go, sleeping beauty." you say, giving him a wink and a smile. "I'll accept the sleeping part. But beauty? Not me, no way." he replies, and just like that seems wide awake. The two of you prepare your outfits, wrap yourself in your thick cloaks and head downstairs for a quick breakfast. The innkeeper greets you, giving you a bowl of porridge each. In the early hours of the morning, with few other patrons awake, the Rustic Fork Inn actually has a certain charm. It no longer feels unwelcoming. After devouring your porridge, it's off toward the royal exhibition hall, to check where the guards spend their day and free time. [[Continue your way to the royal exhibition hall.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0554.png">Einar rolls out his thick cloak on the floor, and wraps your cloak as a blanket on top. Meanwhile you try to make yourself comfortable in the bed. The blanket is cold and cool, and you wrap it around yourself tightly. "Good night." You whisper softly. "Good night..." he replies. You're tired to your very bones from the long walk. Soon, blissful sleep engulfs you. [[The next day...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor to false>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 2>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0555.png">"It's too cold to sleep on the floor. Here's what we'll do: You and me, sharing the one bed... Got a problem with that?" you ask, hands on your hips, daring him to protest. "I uhh... No problems, no." he concedes, raising his hands in defeat. The two of you climb into bed, you under the blanket, and Einar right next to you under his cloak. The bed protests under your combined weight. It's barely wide enough for the two of you, and you have to sleep back to back to fit. "Good night." You whisper softly. "Good night..." he replies. You're tired to your very bones from the long walk. Soon, blissful sleep engulfs you. [[The next day...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0557.png">The path to the exhibition hall is uneventful as you make your way up onto the rooftops once more, unseen by the citizens and guards of Valkama. Not even the Inner City Wall halts your progress as you easily climb over it with your grappling hooks. Now the sprawling Inner City lies before you. On your left, far to the north, are the majestic mountains of Jaerwik. In front of you, over countless rows upon rows of houses is the coastline and harbor. From your vantage point here on top of the wall, you see it all: The Palace, The Gardens, the temples of the Divine District, and the towering mansions of the Aristocratic District. And your target in the distance: The royal exhibition hall, located close to the palace. Without wasting time, you make your way to it, jumping over snow-covered rooftops in the quiet early hours of the morning. [[You arrive.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0558.png">Einar and you stop on a building on the opposite street, overlooking the courtyard below and the grand entrance to the royal exhibition hall. A museum, an art gallery, a trophy zoom and house of curiosities: It's supposedly got it all. And none are for your eyes, commoners as you are. No, those grand halls are for Kings and Queens, and the top of the aristocratic circles. You feel almost grateful to Hermes Dirk for setting you up with a job of this magnitude, just for the chance at seeing what lies within. The building is a sprawling marvel of grandeur, stretching across a dozen streets, yet rising with regal authority to its four-story height. Its wide, imposing facade is encircled by towering marble pillars, each one intricately carved with scenes of old battles, mythical creatures, and the city's proudest moments. The exterior gleams in the morning light, adorned with gilded accents and sprawling stone staircases that lead up to massive bronze doors, their surfaces etched with intimidating symbols of power. "Damn. Impressive..." Einar whistles, struck by the beauty and size of the building. You find yourself nodding, completely agreeing with him. After a moment of wide-eyed admiration, Einar snaps out of it, and takes out a small spyglass from his backpack, handing it to you. Its brass casing feels ice cold to your touch. "I think this is a good spot for you. I'll head over a few blocks that way, see if I can get a different angle on things. Let's compare notes in the evening?" Einar says. Today it's all about observing the comings and goings, nothing more. "Sure. I'll be here." you reply and nod, then lie down on your cloak on the rooftop of the unassuming building across the street from the exhibition hall. "Good luck." Einar adds, before he starts his journey to another rooftop a few blocks away. You watch him leave, then settle into a comfortable position. There's plenty of food in your backpack, and your thick winter clothes should be enough to keep you warm, assuming you stand up and get your blood flowing every once in a while. [[Spend the day watching the guards.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0559.png">Time flies by as you observe the comings and goings of the guards around the royal exhibition hall. With your spyglass, you can distinguish individual guards well enough by the end of the day. And you've established a clear pattern. Most of the guards seem to be coming and going to a building to the west, which your spyglass reveals as a barracks of sorts. However, curiously, there seems to be a group of guards with helmets that look identical to one another, who walk slowly around the courtyard. The other guards seem to avoid them. And even more interestingly, these guards never visit the barracks. Instead, they disappear inside the exhibition hall from time to time. Officers of higher rank? Impossible to say for sure, but for whatever reason, the other guards avoid going near them. As you continue observing the guards, you notice a group of four leaving the barracks, making their way across the courtyard toward the harbor. You can hear them talking and laughing when they pass the street below you, tankards of ale in their hands. Off-duty, no doubt. Just then Einar appears out of nowhere, startling you. "By the Gods, Einar, don't sneak up on me like that!" you complain, but you're glad he's here. "Just practicing, is all. There's a reason I'm the best in the gang, you know?" he replies, calmly, humbly bragging. And rightfully so. Not even Kerr or you can match Einar's silent footsteps. "Let's compare notes later. I want to follow those, see where they go." you tell him, pointing down at the group of guards slowly making their way east toward the harbor, without a clue of the two stalkers hiding above them. "I was just about to suggest the same thing." Einar admits, already on his feet, ready to follow them. With haste, you join him. [[Follow the group.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0560.png">A few blocks later you've reached the coast, and the goal of the group of guards becomes clear. They enter the public baths and saunas in the Inner City harbor, a sprawling complex with multiple saunas of different types and sizes, all sharing access to the sea and a wooden bridge deck. Even in the cold winter, you can see people swimming in the icy waters, the ice purposefully kept broken the whole winter. From your vantage point on the rooftop, you can see someone running from a sauna straight toward the ocean, wrapped in nothing but a towel, before they plunge into the icy waters with a delighted scream. Einar glances your way. "So, they come here to relax after standing on guard duty the whole day? Good to know." You nod, observing the merry swimmers in the cold water. Most of them immediately swim back to the nearby ladder and run back to the sauna, but others enjoy a longer swim. You get cold just from watching them. "Let's observe them for a moment, see what they do." you suggest, taking a comfortable position on the rooftops. Einar shrugs, then crouches down next to you. For an hour you wait, until the guards return from their sauna visit, heading back toward the barracks. A fifth person accompanies them, who is not a guard, judging by their clothing. [[Follow the group back into the city.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0568.png">It's already dark outside when you arrive. The innkeeper greets you, serving you a steaming warm dinner as soon as you sit down at your usual table. The other patrons of the inn seem to have accepted you as part of the regulars, as you get barely any strange looks tonight. "Fruitful business, I hope?" the innkeeper asks as he pours you ale. You glance down at your soup. Surprisingly, it's not whale meat, but pike. Neither of you answer the innkeepers question, who takes the hint and leaves your table without another word. "There's nothing we could've done. Let's just go over what we know and come up with a plan for revenge of sorts, alright?" you begin with a whisper. Einar seems reluctant to talk, idly stirring his soup with a wooden spoon. You're hungry, despite what you witnessed today, and dig into your soup while it's warm. Soon you're spitting out fish bones. "Fine... Alright. Well... Let's discuss what we've learned: First: They have long days, standing sometimes for 12 hours with just a couple of breaks." Einar says, finally taking a first spoonful of soup. "Two: There appears to be some sort of hierarchy amongst them, as some of them take breaks inside the target building, rather than joining the others." you add. "Three: They like to drink, not on the job, but immediately after." Einar continues. "Four: There's a dozen of them around the building at any given time. Who knows how many inside." You're running out of fingers soon. "Five: At least some of them appear to enjoy a visit to the baths after work... And six: They're fucking assholes." A sharp final point, which you wholeheartedly agree with. For the next few days, you'll have to establish if there's a pattern that you can exploit, to get rid of the guards while making it look like an accident. Then, Ylva and Astrid's registry-messing should ensure incompetent guards replace them by the time you're ready to strike. [[The next two days, you repeat your observations.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0569.png">You repeat the process of rising early each morning, and observing the guards' movements the entire day, well into the evening. You carefully observe the same group of guards that assaulted the woman in the alley. They appear to belong to a third hierarchy within the ranks of the guards. At the top appears to be the loners, the ones who never go to the barracks, avoided by all the other guards. But then comes the four guards you've been observing, who appear to be ordering others, organizing them, showing them around. Clearly instructors, or higher ups, of some descriptions. Used to taking what they want, when they want, without asking... But, lucky for you, their schedule is like clockwork. After every day, when the sun is casting an orange light over Valkama, they embark together on a round of drinking and sauna at the public baths. The incidence of the first night does not repeat, luckily... "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Einar asks on the third day of observations, as you once again come to a halt on the rooftops above the public baths and saunas. "That we smell like shit and should probably do something about it?" you ask back, trying to lighten the sour mood, taking a longing look down at the saunas below. "Well... That too. But also that we should take a look inside, check the layout. It may be the public baths, but there's always privacy to be had somewhere in there. Especially with so many saunas to choose from." you glance his way, with a raised eyebrow. "You want to take me somewhere private? Well that's way too romantic, Einar, I demand you stop at once!" your joke is met with a smile from Einar, who's been grumpy ever since the first evening. But he simply shakes his head. "I was thinking about the mission, and the part where we kill those fuckers." Of course he was, you never doubted that for a moment. "Right. Good idea. Let's check the place out." you conclude. You've observed the guards for many days now, and know exactly which sauna building they frequent. It's decided then. You wait a while longer until the guards leave the premises for the evening. Once they're gone, you climb down. You're eager to properly wash yourself, even though your primary object here is to check the place out. [[Enter the public baths.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_wonder">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0570.png">The public baths at the Valkama harbor are a sprawling complex of buildings, nestled along the shoreline. The main entrance is a massive wooden building, which connects all the other buildings into a maze of saunas and warm baths. The entrance alone exudes warmth and serenity against the cold evening air. The saunas dotted around the harbor glow from within, with golden lights that spill out from thick glass windows. Lanterns illuminate the paths, guiding bathers toward the wooden bridge deck that extends over the icy sea, where ladders dip into the frigid water for those daring enough to take the plunge. The scent of fresh herbs, soaps, and fragrant oils wafts from the saunas, wrapping the cold air in a soothing embrace. When you make it inside the main building, the warmth radiates into you, the air thick with moisture. A pleasant scent of birch and cedar mixed with eucalyptus and other calming aromas greets your noses. The friendly staff smile at you as you make your way to the counter. This is a luxurious establishment indeed, located within the shielded Inner City and its harbor. A public bath it may be, but it's not for commoners. You wonder how the guards can afford to visit this place every day. Maybe it's part of their perks? "Ah! Good evening travelers. You're most welcome here in our baths. What are you in the mood for?" One of the friendly women behind the counter asks you, a wide smile on her lips, and warm eyes. Instantly, you grow suspicious of her. Surely, no one is that happy at a service job? Apparently, she mistook you for travelers, as you're carrying backpacks and wearing thick winter cloaks. Well, you're not going to correct her. "I... We're interested in a dip in the ocean and a steamy sauna. A particular smoke sauna looks rather inviting, the third on the right... I wonder if that is free?" Einar asks, helpfully pointing out of the thick glass windows toward the third sauna in the row to your right, on the northern side of the harbor. "Is it just the two of you? That's a private sauna for small groups. It is rather large for a pair... We do have plenty of smaller saunas, if you want something more intimate. Or you can join others in the larger common saunas." she replies, all smiles. When Einar hesitates, you say... [["We're here to evaluate the sauna for our friend's party."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0572.png">You're not even in the saunas yet, and you're already sweating. The two of you quickly undress, wrapping yourselves in towels. "Look for hiding places or ways in and out of here." you instruct Einar, pointlessly of course, since he knows what he's doing. Still, repetition never hurts. After a thorough investigation, you realize there's just the one door into this cloakroom. And it's small, offering little to no hiding places. "It's going to dicey getting to them in here." Einar concludes. Indeed, he's right. "True. But come on, let's get our money's worth." you announce, heading into the next room. Stone tiles fill the floor here, and there's barrels of cold water lining the room. Empty buckets are placed in a neat pile next to them. Einar doesn't waste a moment as he grabs two buckets, and fills them to the brim with cold water. Then he leaves his towel on one of the hooks on the wall, and carries the buckets of water into the sauna, leaving the door open for you. There's nothing weird about Einar going into the sauna completely naked. In fact, it is very common in Jaerwik that men and women bathe together naked. And there's nothing sexual about it at all. After all, a sauna is a place for relaxing and getting clean. And indeed, you have seen Einar naked before. It is impossible to live closely with other members of the gang without some invasion of privacy, after all. Still, at this moment, you find yourself hesitating for some reason. Normally, you wouldn't think twice about this. But now you find yourself clutching your towel, wondering... [[Shrug it off and put away the towel. Join Einar naked in the sauna.]] [[Decide to keep your towel on and join Einar in the sauna.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <<set $ch6_towel_on to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0574.png">There's nothing strange or new about this, and so you put away your towel, joining Einar in the dimly lit sauna without a thread of clothing on your skin. You quickly recognize it as a smoke sauna, both from the residual smell, and the blackened wood all along the walls and roof. You quickly close the door behind you, before more heat escapes. It feels like you're in a wooden sanctuary, the walls crafted from ancient, weathered timber blackened by years of smoke. Three tiers of wide wooden benches stretch along two sides of the room, rising steeply ever upward, promising a stronger spirit of the sauna - löyly - the further up you go. Einar is sitting patiently on the top row, over to one side, leaving plenty of room for you. In the far corner, a massive stone stove sits on the floor, its dark, smooth stones stacked high, exuding a constant heat. The fire below the stones has long since been extinguished, as is the tradition with a smoke saunas. There are no chimneys in the sauna after all. First, they heat the stones with a fire for several hours, which fills the room with smoke. Then, they extinguish the fire and open all the windows and doors, removing the smoke. The stones remain warm throughout the whole day well into the late hours of the evening. [[Join Einar on the top row.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_towel_on to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0573.png">There may not be anything strange in the custom of bathing naked in Jaerwik in mixed gender saunas, but in this instance it feels better to leave your towel on. With your towel firmly wrapped around your body, you join Einar in the dimly lit sauna. You quickly recognize it as a smoke sauna, both from the residual smell, and the blackened wood all along the walls and roof. You quickly close the door behind you, before more heat escapes. It feels like you're in a wooden sanctuary, the walls crafted from ancient, weathered timber blackened by years of smoke. Three tiers of wide wooden benches stretch along two sides of the room, rising steeply ever upward, promising a stronger spirit of the sauna - löyly - the further up you go. Einar is sitting patiently on the top row, over to one side, leaving plenty of room for you. In the far corner, a massive stone stove sits on the floor, its dark, smooth stones stacked high, exuding a constant heat. The fire below the stones has long since been extinguished, as is the tradition with a smoke saunas. There are no chimneys in the sauna after all. First, they heat the stones with a fire for several hours, which fills the room with smoke. Then, they extinguish the fire and open all the windows and doors, removing the smoke. The stones remain warm throughout the whole day well into the late hours of the evening. [[Join Einar on the top row.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_stressfree">> <</silently>><<if $ch6_towel_on is true>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0575t.png"><<else>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0575nt.png"><</if>>The heat is soothing to your muscles, which are stiff and frozen from three days lying on snowy rooftops. With a sigh, you sit down a few feet from Einar, who pours one of the buckets of water into a metallic container built into the stone stove. After a while, the two of you can use that water to wash yourselves clean, all warm and nice. Upon further inspection of the stove, you see that the stones are worn, crumbling even. This sauna has seen frequent and heavy use. Your gaze travels upward, at the timber beams of the ceiling that arch low, their surface rough and textured. A single, small window high on the wall on the opposite side of the stove offers only a little illumination. Most of the light in the sauna comes from sealed glass lanterns burning with whale oil, which are dotted around the corners of the sauna. Enough to let you see where you walk, but not enough to see clearly to the far end of the room. The scent of burnt wood lingers in the air. The hiss of water hitting the stones interrupts your thoughts, and you close your eyes, relaxing every muscle in your body. Soon, the spirit of the sauna - löyly - rises from the stones as a hot and caressing steam that engulfs your entire body. To fight it is to feel discomfort, and so you embrace it, knowing that the heat is fleeting and cannot hurt you. The stress of the mission and the cold of the winter disappear as you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with hot steamy mist. There must be pine tar and eucalyptus mixed into the water Einar is throwing onto the stones, for a pleasant aroma fills the sauna with every ladle of water he throws. [[You haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <<set $ch6_ice_bath to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0578.png">"Alright. Let's do it!" you reply enthusiastically, ready to face the cold. With a smile and laughing like maniacs, you wrap your towels tight around yourselves as you rush through the stone tiled room, then straight outside. The path is well lit and marked by a long row of lanterns, guiding you toward the wooden bridge deck. Other enjoyers of the saunas are coming and going. Ahead you can hear a woman screaming as she enters the water. The cold winter air doesn't bother your steaming hot skin as you make your way to the bridge deck. Your feet, however, are feeling the sting of the cold snow. Finally, you're at the ocean, a row of wooden ladders in front of you. A thick sheet of ice covers the ocean as far as the eye can see. To either side, you can see two staff members with large wooden sticks, stirring the water. By keeping it constantly moving, they prevent ice from being formed. No doubt they have to hack and clear the ice in the morning, and then continue stirring throughout the day. Truly fighting the elements. But, you're grateful for their effort, because you'll now get to experience a rare treat indeed. A plunge into the ice cold harbor of Valkama, in the late winter months. [[Einar wastes no time.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_ice_bath to false>> <</silently>><<if $ch6_towel_on is true>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0577t.png"><<else>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0577nt.png"><</if>>"I'd rather skip the ice bath, thanks. You go ahead and freeze your balls off." you tell Einar, who shrugs with an apologetic smile on his lips, and leaves the sauna. Now it's just you, and you take this opportunity to throw some more water on the stones. The soothing sizzling sound of water turning to steam grounds you in the moment as you once again close your eyes, embracing the rising steam. A few minutes later, Einar returns, flustered and panting. He rushes into the sauna, slams the door shut and joins you on the top row. "I see you still have your balls. That's good." you comment sarcastically, before helpfully throwing a few ladles full of water onto the stones. "That was intense... Felt like I couldn't breathe there for a moment. Like the cold water was pressing down on my chest or something." Einar explains. "So you're saying it wasn't worth the plunge?" you ask. Einar looks thoughtful for a moment, then says: "Well... I understand why some people do it and like it. It was an... Experience, alright. But definitely not for me." Slowly, you can see Einar relaxing as the heat of the sauna warms him, casting away the coldness of the ocean. The two of you continue relaxing for a while. Eventually, you decide that the water in the container next to the stove should be warm enough. You head into the stone-tiled room next to the sauna, grab half a bucket of fresh water and head back in. Einar is ready when you place the bucket on the floor next to the container. He opens a valve, with the help of the wooden ladle so he doesn't burn himself, and pours boiling hot water from the container into the half-full bucket of fresh cold water. Then, once he's satisfied with the mix and temperature, he closes the valve. [[Allow Einar to clean himself first.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_wonder">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0580.png">"I'll be outside, catching some fresh air. Let me know when you're done." you announce, giving Einar some well-needed space and privacy. You've barely had time to cool yourself after the sauna in the crispy winter evening air, wrapped in your towel, when you hear the door behind you opening. "All yours, beautiful." he announces, helpfully keeping the door open for you. You know he isn't flirting - it's just Einar being Einar, your best friend joking around. And so you reply in a similar manner: "Thank you, handsome." as a joke. Then you head back inside the sauna with a smile on your lips. Einar seems to hesitate for a moment when you walk past him, but he doesn't say or do anything. Back in the sauna, alone this time, you thoroughly clean your body and hair with the soaps available in the baths. Then you wash your body with the warm, but not too hot, water in the bucket. Finally properly clean and fresh. Damn, it feels like ages. [[Head back into the cloakroom.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0579.png">He leaves his towel on the railing next to the ladders, then stark naked like the rest of the people swimming in the ocean, climbs down the ladder into the dark, almost black, winter ocean. There's no way you're letting him beat you, and you quickly join him, casting aside your towel. Luckily, it's very dark out here, and you quickly rush to the ladder and slide down into the cold water. You're ankle-deep in the cold ocean. But stopping now is out of the question, because if you stop, you won't be able to convince yourself to go all the way down into the water. Every inch of your body screams in shock, the heat of the sauna forgotten in an instant. You descend and gasp, instantly neck-deep in water. Your hands refuse to let go of the partially frozen wooden ladder as you desperately breathe. Einar curses and gasps next to you. "Fucking hell, this is too cold!" he protests, quickly making his way back up the ladder. You fully agree with him! You've barely climbed back up onto the wooden bridge deck before Einar hands you your towel. Shaking and freezing to your very core, you grab it, wrap it around you and rush back to the sauna with Einar. As soon as you enter, Einar throws many ladles full of water onto the stones. Gradually, you can breathe normally again, as the steam warms your ice cold bodies. "That was intense... Felt like I couldn't breathe there for a moment. Like the cold water was pressing down on my chest or something." Einar says, the first to get a word out. You understand exactly what he means. Something happened when you submerged yourself in the ocean. Like your body went into a fight-or-flight mode, signaling that something was very wrong. But the adrenaline, the rush... It's a mix of emotions, that's for sure. "I know what you mean. Totally worth it though." you conclude, grabbing the ladle and throwing a few more scoops of water onto the stones. The two of you continue relaxing for a while after that. Eventually, you decide that the water in the container next to the stove should be warm enough. You head into the stone-tiled room next to the sauna, grab half a bucket of fresh water and head back in. Einar is ready when you place the bucket on the floor next to the container. He opens a valve, with the help of the wooden ladle so he doesn't burn himself, and pours boiling hot water from the container into the half-full bucket of fresh cold water. Then, once he's satisfied with the mix and temperature, he closes the valve. [[Allow Einar to clean himself first.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0581.png">Einar is already fully clothed when you arrive in the cloakroom, wrapped in your towel. You smell better than a flower, and feel fresh as a cool mint on a crisp winters day. Like a gentleman, Einar leaves the cloakroom with a courteous nod and bow, allowing you to get dressed without his prying eyes. <<if $ch6_einar_points > 4>>He's on his way out, his back turned to you, almost by the door... Suddenly you get the urge to flash your tits, just to see the look on his face. This isn't a sauna situation anymore, this is a cloakroom where different social norms are followed...<<else>>He leaves the cloakroom, closing the door behind him.<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_points > 4>>[[Call his name and flash your tits.]]<<else>>[[Get dressed.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_points > 4>>[[Decide against it and get dressed.|Get dressed.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <<set $ch6_flash_tits to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0582.png">"Einar!" you call after him, with a mischievous grin. He stops in his tracks, turning around, only to see you drop your towel for a split second, revealing your curvy breasts to him. Stunned, he stares at your chest, even after you hide your breasts in your towel again. "That's all." you add, playfully urging him to go on and close the door behind him. He shakes his head with a wide grin, and finally leaves you alone in the cloakroom. [[Get dressed.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0583.png">It takes a while to make sure your hair is properly dry before you put your clothes on, but eventually, you're done. Einar is patiently waiting outside, sitting on a frozen bench in the darkness of the evening, wearing his thick winter clothing and cloak. "I was beginning to worry." he says with a light-hearted tone, clearly joking. "How considerate! Now come on, I'm starving and tired as fuck." you retort, and as if to emphasise your point, yawn so loudly that your jaw hurts. "You and me both." Einar concludes, yawning as impressively as you. Something about the fresh winter air and the hot sauna always makes you tired, partly because it makes you so damned relaxed. [[Head back to the Rustic Fork Inn.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0584.png">It takes you longer than usual to get back to the inn, but finally you make it. The climb up and over the rooftops truly took everything out of you, and the two of you crash at your usual table, exhausted. The innkeeper doesn't comment, but offers you a dinner with freshly baked bread and salted whale meat. A tiny slice of cheese, and some dried fruit, brings some much needed flavor to the dish. Neither you nor Einar say a word during the meal: your bodies are too exhausted and relaxed. Finally, you finish your meals and retire for the night. [[You fall asleep instantly.|sleep day 4 mission]] <<if $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor is true>><<if $ch6_einar_points > 3>>[[Ask Einar to sleep in the bed with you tonight.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 1>> <<set $ch6_einar_sleeps_floor to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0585.png">"How about you upgrade to the bed tonight? The floor looks really uncomfortable." you tell Einar when you reach your room. He looks surprised, but offers a tired smile and a nod. "That sounds perfect. But the floor really isn't too bad..." he says. You're not doing to take no for an answer, however. "I insist." you add, and with that, it's settled. The two of you climb into bed, you under the blanket, and Einar right next to you under his cloak. The bed protests under your combined weight. It's barely wide enough for the two of you, and you have to sleep back to back to fit. "Good night." You whisper softly. "Good night..." he replies. [[You fall asleep instantly.|sleep day 4 mission]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0586.png">The next morning the two of you manage to sleep through the rooster's loud cock-a-doodle-doo. You wake up, startled, when someone knocks on your door. Einar is up in a flash, daggers at the ready, wearing nothing but his earth-toned briefs. You too rush up in your nightgown, grabbing your dagger. "I can hear you in there, come on, you're needed downstairs." the familiar voice of Ylva greets you on the other side of the door. "Fox? What are you doing here...?" you ask, choosing to use her nickname, since you have no idea what company she has. "I'll explain everything, just haul your asses downstairs. Snowflake and Lurker are waiting." Her footsteps disappearing down the corridor. So, Astrid and Kerr are here as well. Einar shrugs and shakes his head when you glance his way. He's as confused as you are. When you're fully clothed, you join the others for a bit of late breakfast in the Rustic Fork Inn's common room. It's quiet this time of the day, and you have most of the inn for yourself. Ylva has chosen a table in the corner, as far away from the other patrons as possible. With an amused smile, you notice that the innkeeper is eyeing Ylva with the same suspicion as he eyed you and Einar when you first arrived. "Nice to see you Snowflake. Lurker." you nod to Astrid and Kerr as you take a seat by the table. Nothing in Astrid's expression betrays anything too alarming, and her face is usually like an open book. So, not too much trouble at least. [[Ylva explains why they're here.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_spicy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0587.png">"Slight change of plans. We need Shadow for a task. Lurker here couldn't do it, wasn't silent enough." Ylva explains, pointing at Einar and Kerr. Alright, now you get it. Astrid and Ylva were supposed to convince drunks and people with no qualifications to sign up for guard duty at the royal exhibition hall, and then forge the registry to place those candidates at the top. But somewhere during that process, they needed to break in or steal something, which proved too difficult for them. And even for Kerr. In normal circumstances, you'd raise a provocative eyebrow in Kerr's direction, and offer a sarcastic remark on how rusty he has become at the true ways of thieves. But, this one time, he has earned a bit of slack, considering how he helped out at the Donkey's Drum Inn when things got dicey. Einar looks devastated at the news, however. "Really? Come on, Lurker is more than capable of handling whatever it is..." he protests, clearly eager to continue your one-on-one mission here. And finish your revenge mission on pig guards. "Even I have my limits, unfortunately." Kerr admits, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he isn't up to the task. But the competitive nature of Kerr leaves you wondering if he truly is as calm on the inside about this. Einar glances your way, almost as if seeking permission from you to abandon your quest. "I assume a change of partners is in order, then? Lurker joins me, Shadow joins you?" you ask the gathered bunch around the table. Ylva nods at your words. "That's right." Ylva simply says. "We could use your help." you add, speaking to all around the table. "Really? How so?" Ylva asks with a raised eyebrow. "Einar and I planned to do this in the public baths, but the smoke sauna is usually reserved for groups. If they see me again they'll be expecting a group of people to join me, since we pretended to evaluate the place before." you explain. Astrid smiles, and Ylva nods her head. "Fine... I suppose a mandatory visit to the baths doesn't hurt anyone. Protests? Good. Let's go." Ylva says, clearly happy to get an excuse to visit the public saunas. [[The five of you head toward the harbor.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0561.png">The group soon passes the streets directly below you, and you follow them like a silent shadow in the sky. They're laughing and drinking, seemingly in a good mood. But the fifth person keeps quiet, like they're uncomfortable being there. Upon closer inspection, you realize it's a woman, her face partially hidden by her cloak. She can't have seen more than 19 summers. The group comes to a halt next to a dark alley. One of the guards signals a stop, and waves the others inside. Anger flares in your heart when two of the men forcefully grab the woman, practically carrying her into the alley. "I don't like this..." Einar mutters next to you. You agree completely. There's no mistaking the intentions of the guards when you jump one rooftop closer. One of them stands guard at the entrance to the alley, while the rest surround the woman and begin tearing her clothes from her. She's either too stunned, or too shocked, to scream and offers almost no resistance. She could be a whore, who got more than she bargained for. But the terrified look on her face tells a different story. "We've got to do something, Taru..." Einar whispers, his throwing knives already at hand. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are fixed on the guards below with murder in his eyes. It's risky, attacking four heavily armored and trained elite guards, even if there are two of you and you have the element of surprise. Plus, your original plan requires a stealthy approach, which gets rid of the guards in a way that looks like an accident. If guards are being assassinated and murdered, then security will be tighter... And there's no way to make a bloody murder in an alley look like an accident. Arne will be furious if you fuck this up, and the rest of the gang will be disappointed. But Einar doesn't seem to care about any of that. [[Fuck the plan. You agree with Einar. Those pigs deserve to die.]] [[Reluctantly stick to the plan. You'll kill them, that's for sure, but it must look like an accident.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_points to $ch6_einar_points + 2>> <<set $ch6_failed_mission to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0563.png">"Fuck the plan, let's gut the pigs." you announce with clenches teeth, drawing your own dagger, your trusty common steel dagger, sharpened to perfection. Only Kerr's daggers are sharper than yours, since that freak sharpens his daggers all the time. Who's got time with that? Einar nods your way, a determined look on his face. "Can you get rid of the lookout? If you manage to do it silently, then we'll strike the trio together. Otherwise I'll send a few well-placed throwing daggers on the guards, then join you." Einar asks. "Consider the guard dead already." you reply, securing your grappling hook on the roof. Then, with your dagger in your mouth, you silently slide down the rope just behind the guard. Further in the alley the three other guards are busy assaulting the woman, laughing and grunting. This close, you can hear her silent cries. The lookout is standing at the entrance to the alley, with his back turned to you. Like a heavenly avenger, you descend from above, sliding down your rope until your feet silently land on the frost-covered muddy streets of the alley. A glance above reveals that Einar has descended to a balcony, overlooking the trio of guards. From there, he has a clear shot at the guards, who in their eagerness have removed some of their armor, including their helmets and pants. Your attention turns to the lookout. [[Silently slice his throat.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_failed_mission to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0562.png">"Stick to the plan, Einar. They'll get what's coming to them, but not tonight, not here." you explain, placing a calming hand on Einar's shoulder. He visibly shakes with fury, then draws a deep breath and sighs. "You're right, of course..." Reluctantly, he puts away his knives. You feel his frustration, but it's for the best. "It's getting late. Let's return to the inn and formulate a plan, alright?" you propose. Einar slowly nods his head, a sour look on his face. [[Return to the Rustic Fork Inn.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_scared">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0564.png">With soft footsteps, you approach the lookout. With practiced hands, you reach up, jank his head back and plunge your dagger into his throat. As the guard spasms, gurgles and chokes on his own blood, you grab him and pull him back further into the alley, away from prying eyes. The soft rattling sound of chainmail from his armor and his muffled coughs fill the alley. Apparently, you weren't silent enough, as one of the other guards suddenly shouts in dismay. His protest is abruptly cut short as Einar throws his dagger, the blade sinking into the unprotected left eye of the guard. The woman is screaming at the top of her lungs, and the remaining two guards scramble to pull their pants up. Without hesitation, you rush toward them, knowing that you have the advantage for only a few more moments. Einar throws another dagger, but the guards are moving now, and his blade merely brushes against the ear of his target. Then Einar jumps, landing on top of one of the guards, who still hasn't drawn his blade. In a flash, you reach the second guard who has managed to draw his sword, but he's forced to hold his heavy chainmail pants up with his left hand, his belt hanging loose around his waist. All the while the woman is screaming, her eyes on the fallen guards bleeding in the streets around her. Like the wind, you close the distance between you and the guard, holding your dagger in a tight grip. He swings his sword, using the length of his blade to keep you at a distance. But his pants are making him an easy target, almost immobile as he slowly shuffles back. <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "The pig of a guard holds his sword threateningly before him, desperately trying to keep his pants from falling down to his ankles with his left hand.">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "After Guard Alley Combat">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Kill the guard (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl1">><</link>><<else>><<link "Kill the guard (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0565.png">You expertly dodge his attacks, waiting for an opening. Einar is wrestling with the only other guard still standing, a few feet further into the alley. Then their struggle suddenly comes to an end. Einar stands up, hands bloody, fury in his eyes. The guard you're fighting glances his way, and upon seeing all his comrades dead, hesitates for a split second. A quick step forward is all it takes to get within reach. You grab his sword-arm with your left hand, pushing the blade away from you, and bring your right hand up toward his exposed neck. He must've realized the end is near, and in a desperate attempt to stop you, he drops the hold of his pants and tries to stop you. But it's too late. Your dagger sinks into his flesh, in the same instant when you feel the weight of his chainmail pants falling on your boots. In disgust, you pull your blade free, letting the guard fall. He lands with a rattle of chainmail onto the frosty mud of the streets, his blood painting the alley red. Einar is recovering his throwing daggers with a sickening squelch as he pulls it out of the first guard's eye. The woman has stopped screaming, and is staring at the carnage. Her clothes are in tatters, and a fresh bruise covers her left eye. "You're safe now..." Einar begins, trying to reassure the woman. But she stares at him in horror, trying desperately to get away from him. You can hear shouting in the distance. Damn. Someone must've heard or seen you. "We need to get out of here. Now." you announce, knowing that the place will be swarming with guards soon. "You too. Run, get out of here! Go!" you shout to the woman, snapping her out of her panic. She gathers her ruined clothes and rushes further into the alley, disappearing into the darkness. She rounds the corner and disappears into the night. The two of you climb up to the rooftops using your rope. Torchlight is filling the streets below a few buildings away, and from your vantage point, you can see a dozen guards being led by a few civilians toward the alley. You got out just in time, but this was neither stealthy, nor looked like an accident. And you failed to get guard uniforms too. Arne is not going to be pleased, but some things are more important than that. Like standing up for those who can't stand up for themselves. "Come on, let's go." you tell Einar, who nods in agreement. [[Return to the Rustic Fork Inn.|return after assassination]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0566.png">On the way back, you do your best to clean any signs of blood from your clothes and hands in the snow that covers the rooftops. It's completely dark outside when you arrive at the inn. Neither of you say a word as you make your way upstairs, but not before you order a bucket of hot water to be brought to your room. Soon, the bucket arrives, with fresh towels and soap. In silence, the two of you wash away the last remaining traces of blood and mud. "Ah, shit... Arne's going to be pissed, isn't he?" Einar mutters, stashing his gear in the corner of the room in his backpack. "Aye, that's for sure." you admit. The rush of the moment is gone, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. Some sort of justice was served tonight, at least... "Did we do the right thing? That woman... She didn't seem happy..." Einar asks, suddenly uncertain. "Does it even matter? What's done is done..." your voice trails off, your body suddenly tired to the very bones. You'll just have to return to the warehouse and report a failure, that's all. Roll with the punches. But not tonight. Feeling exhausted, you say: [["Let's get some sleep..."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0567.png">Einar agrees, and soon the two of you fall into an uncertain slumber, wondering just how pissed the others in the gang will be. .. The next morning, you're startled awake when someone knocks on your door. Einar is up in a flash, daggers at the ready, wearing nothing but his earth-toned briefs. You too rush up in your nightgown, grabbing your dagger. "I can hear you in there, come on, you're needed downstairs." the familiar voice of Ylva greets you on the other side of the door. "Fox? What are you doing here...?" you ask, choosing to use her nickname, since you have no idea what company she has. "I'll explain everything, just haul your asses downstairs. Snowflake and Lurker are waiting." Her footsteps disappearing down the corridor. So, Astrid and Kerr are here as well. Einar shrugs and shakes his head when you glance his way. He's as confused as you are. When you're fully clothed, you join the others for a bit of late breakfast in the Rustic Fork Inn's common room. It's quiet this time of the day, and you have most of the inn for yourself. Ylva has chosen a table in the corner, as far away from the other patrons as possible. With an amused smile, you notice that the innkeeper is eyeing Ylva with the same suspicion as he eyed you and Einar when you first arrived. "Nice to see you Snowflake. Lurker." you nod to Astrid and Kerr as you take a seat by the table. Nothing in Astrid's expression betrays anything too alarming, and her face is usually like an open book. So, not too much trouble at least. [[Ylva explains why they're here.|alternative ylva explanation]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_spicy">> <<set $ch6_kill_with_kerr to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0587.png">"Slight change of plans. We need Shadow for a task. Lurker here couldn't do it, wasn't silent enough." Ylva explains, pointing at Einar and Kerr. You glance at Einar. Clearly, the others in the gang need Einar's help in finishing their mission. They even asked Kerr for help, who wasn't able to do it. However, none of it matters anymore. Messing with the registry for guard duties and putting drunks into their ranks isn't going to work. They're on high alert now. But Ylva and the others don't know that yet. Einar clears his throat, but doesn't say a word. With a sigh, you glance around the inn, then tell your gang members: "The mission failed, alright. The hornet's nest is angry. I suggest we get the fuck out of here while we can." You're deliberately trying to be as vague as possible, just in case someone is listening to your muted conversation. Kerr raises an eyebrow, and Astrid looks confused. Ylva leans in close, planting her fist on the table. "What do you mean failed?" she hisses, demanding answers. "It's my fault. It... We were seen and had to act fast. There was no time to clean up the mess, or grab the gear." Einar lies, with just enough remorse for what you did to truly make the story sound believable. Astrid is staring silently at you, while Kerr rolls his eyes. Like he knew you'd fuck this up. Ylva on the other hand is fuming, and it looks like she's about to pop a vein on her forehead. "You of all people... Was spotted? How the fuck did that happen?" she queries. "Even I have my limits, unfortunately..." Einar says with an muted shrug. "For fucks sake..." Ylva mumbles, massasing her aching head. "Alright, it's not the end of the world. We just lost our backup plan if things go tits up. That's all. So..." she leans in close. "... There's no room for errors anymore, got it?" In silence, the two of you nod. "Good. Let's get back to the others..." [[Embark on a journey back to the hideout.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_spicy">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0605.png">Three days later, back at the hideout. Early morning... Your journey back to the hideout was spent in a paranoia of being followed or recognized. However, you made it back in one piece, luckily encountering no trouble on the way back. Right now, the gang is gathered around the attic's table, windows once again blocked off to preserve the heat. The whale oil radiators are churning away, filling the air with a faint hint of fish smell. Everyone's here, back from their missions, ready to discuss the next plan. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is false>>The two guard uniforms are neatly hidden inside a crate in the corner of the attic, ready for the day of the heist.<</if>> <<if $ch6_failed_mission is false>>"Great job everyone. Exceptional, even!" Arne announces, beaming with pride at the successful first phase of the heist. "Hear hear!" Ebbe shouts, raising his tankard. "Oops..." he adds as he spills some of the precious ale in his lap. The mood is cheerful around the attic, and everyone's smiling, shaking hands and patting shoulders. Ylva and Astrid, with the help of Einar, managed to forge the registry of guard candidates and convince a bunch of local drunks to sign up for guard duty at the exhibition hall. You and Kerr took out the guards and got their uniforms, making their deaths look like a tragic accident. <<else>>"Well... Can't say I'm happy about this..." Arne begins, glancing around the room. The usually cheerful gang is quiet. You avert your eyes when the gang questioningly looks your way. "... But we've gone through what happened a bunch of times already." Arne continues, shaking his head. He's not wrong there... The gang has grilled you and <<if $ch6_kill_with_kerr is true>>Kerr<<else>>Einar<</if>> the last two days about what exactly happened during the mission. And you answered honestly. "Let's drop it and work with what we've got, alright?" Arne concludes, finally putting an official end to the discussion. You're officially off the hook for fucking up the mission... But it's not the end of the heist, far from it.<</if>> <<if $ch6_failed_mission is false>>As for the rest of the gang,<<else>>At least some missions succeeded.<</if>> Erika and Ebbe, mostly Erika no doubt, managed to get their hands on two carriages. Whether or not the six horses, that now live downstairs in the warehouse-turned-stables, spook easily or not remains to be seen. Arne managed to finish Kerr's and his mission alone, getting his hand on blueprints of the exhibition hall, diagrams detailing the locks, and much more. Apparently, Hermes Dirk and his vast network helped out quite a bit on that front. [[Discuss the next steps.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0588.png">The five of you ascend to the rooftops, heading toward the harbor. On the way, you explain the plan in detail. First, a bit of sabotage in the smoke sauna. Then later in the evening, Kerr and you will see things through, ensuring the guards are inside when you spring the trap. Ylva seems satisfied with the plan. Einar on the other hand seems very disappointed that he won't be there to spring the trap on the pigs. Astrid doesn't offer an opinion one way or another. You're surprised by how calmly even Kerr has accepted the plan, without any protests at all. Has Arne given him an explicit order to follow your and Einar's plan, whatever it may be? Because there's no other explanation that you can think of that explains why Kerr isn't throwing your plan out of the window and replacing it with his own. Unless he actually thinks it's a good plan, but refuses to even hint at the possibility? The progress is fast and you arrive early in the afternoon. Just like before, you head through the main building. The same woman as before greets you behind the counter. "Welcome back! Are you here for the smoke sauna?" she asks, clearly remembering you and your promise of a party. "That's right. We'll need a bit longer this time. How long can you give us?" you ask. She checks her books. "We've got regulars coming in at six, but until then it's yours, four hours." she says with a smile. "Perfect, we'll take it." Einar pays her once again, then the five of you head into the smoke sauna. "Impressive place." Ylva muses. The five of you leave your gear in the cloakroom, then head into the sauna. [[You spent an hour relaxing with your gang members.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0571.png">The woman behind the counter nods. "Very well. It's 2 silver an hour. I assume just the one hour will be enough for your evaluation?" she asks, preparing towels for you. "That's more than plenty." you reply as Einar pays the woman. Then she leads you through the building to a room adjacent to the sauna where you can undress and store your belongings. It's getting quite warm indeed, walking inside the hot building with your thick winter clothing and cloaks. Finally, the woman leaves you alone. [[Undress, then investigate the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0589.png">Just like before, you take in the relaxing atmosphere of the sauna. But soon, discussion turns to the mission, and how best to sabotage the sauna. Soon a detailed plan has been decided on, and its kinks ironed out. Ylva is eager to get going after an hour, claiming they've wasted enough time. But you know she enjoyed the distraction, for her usually angry expression is somewhat softened by the relaxing steam of the sauna. "Good luck, and be careful." Astrid says to you on her way out, following Ylva. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you back at the hideout." you say to her reassuringly. She smiles and follows Ylva. "Get the fuckers, alright?" Einar says on his way out, squeezing your shoulder. "We will, you can count on that." you reply, sad to see him leave. But maybe it's for the best. Einar was a bit hot-blooded that day in the alley, and right now you need someone with a cool head. And no one in the gang is better qualified for that than Kerr. Soon, Ylva, Astrid and Einar have left you and Kerr alone in the public baths. You're wrapped in your towel, while Kerr has put his winter clothes on. "Alright, let's get to work..." he says, wasting not a moment longer. [[Prepare for the ambush.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_thief">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0590.png">Kerr heads out into the city, returning an hour later. The staff greet him, with friendly smiles, and show him back to the smoke sauna's cloakroom. What they fail to see in his backpack is the small barrel of highly flammable whale oil. "This is too easy..." Kerr muses as he undresses and wraps a towel around himself again. Then he carries the barrel into the sauna and begins soaking the walls, roof and benches in oil. All that's needed now is a spark, something which the smoke sauna lacks at the moment. "Alright, now we just wait. The plan is clear?" you ask, suddenly nervous. Kerr shrugs casually. "Just take care of your part, and I'll take care of mine. Don't worry so much." he says. You can't help but shake your head at that. Sometimes Kerr is a bit too cold-headed... [[Wait until later.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0591.png">It seems to take forever, every minute feeling like an hour as you wait for the evening. Eventually, the staff of the public saunas come to remind you that it's almost six o'clock. The two of you get dressed, but you slip a towel into your backpack. Kerr on the other hand deliberately leaves his winter cloak hanging from a hook in the cloakroom. "Welcome back any time!" The woman behind the counter says to you as you leave the premises. Nervously, you nod and smile back, promising you'll do just that. Soon, you're outside on the rooftops once more, overlooking the harbor. "That's them." you announce to Kerr when you spot the familiar group of guards walking down the street toward the harbor. "Alright, you know what to do. Don't go slicing and dicing before I get there." Kerr replies, then slides down the rope back down to street level. He's going to wait for the guards to enter, then come in behind them after a while, claiming he forgot his winter cloak. You, on the other hand, will enter the other way, ensuring you surround the guards. In the cold evening, at the top of a roof, you strip down until you're completely naked. Then you wrap yourself in a towel. With your trusty dagger in your mouth, you slide down the rope until you're back on street level. Then you hide your dagger inside of your towel, hugging it tightly against your body as you make your way to the harbor. There you blend in with all other visitors of the public baths, just another swimmer coming back from the ocean to the warmth of the saunas. Up ahead, you see Kerr entering the front door. Alright, now's the time. You're feeling incredibly exposed all of a sudden, walking into a figurative lion's den without a thread of clothing on your back. The cool steel of your dagger pressed against your skin calms your nerves, even as your beating heart pounds loudly in your chest. Soon, you're outside the side door, which leads into the stone-tiled room outside of the guard's smoke sauna. For just a moment, you hesitate, trying to get your shaking hands under control and calm your breathing. You remember Astrid's good point: They recognized you at the Donkey's Drum Inn, because they saw trouble, and were looking for trouble-makers. These guards on the other hand are off-duty, and will most likely not recognize you as a wanted criminal. With that in mind, you... [[Enter through the side door.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_kill_with_kerr to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0592.png">You walk in like you own the place, dagger hidden within your towel. Two of the guards are in the process of pouring water into buckets, standing completely naked in front of you. "Oi! I think you've got the wrong sauna, lass!" One of them says, a confused look on his face. "Oh, truly? Ah silly me! They all look the same, don't they?" you say, acting dumb. You try your best to smile like Erika, flirting with your eyes while you're at it. "Indeed they do! Hey I know, why don't you join us in the sauna with the rest of the boys?" The second guard asks, carrying a heavy bucket of water. Kerr is nowhere to be seen yet. He should've been here by now. [[Stick to the plan and wait for Kerr...]] [[Attack the guards.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <<set $ch6_failed_mission to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0595.png">It happens in a flash. The guard in front of you doesn't suspect a thing when you take a step forward, a big smile on your lips. Then your dagger is out, stabbed into his heart. His guard comrade before him, the one carrying the bucket of water, doesn't realize what's going on at first. Then you push the first guard out of your way and rush the distance. The bucket he was carrying falls to the ground with a loud crack as the wood splinters, but it's already too late. The guard grasps his throat, trying to shout a warning to the others. But only hisses and gurgles escape his throat as he falls onto the stone tiles, smashing his skull against the tiles in the process. A glance into the sauna reveals no one's there. Shit... Where are the others? And where's Kerr? From across the room, you hear the door to the cloakroom opening. "What the... MURDER! Grab your weapon!" A voice shouts, hastily retreating into the cloakroom. Fuck... You rush after him, determined to put an end to this. But the secret is out, everyone in the building hears him as he shouts murder, murder, again and again. Suddenly, his shouts stop, and when you open the cloakroom you can see Kerr hugging the man, his dagger planted into the naked guard's chest. On the floor behind him lies a second guard, already dead, in a pool of his own blood. "Well, that's just brilliant." Kerr comments, breaking the struggling guard's neck with a sickening crunch. Bells are ringing all around you, warning everyone of danger. "Sorry, I... Lost my nerve..." you stutter. "Let's get the hell out of here..." he says, urging you on. There's no time to steal uniforms and torch the place. All chances of making this look like an accident have been lost. [[Together, you rush outside, disappearing into the darkness of the evening.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0593.png">You decide to roll with it and wait for Kerr. Together, you have a better chance of taking out all four silently, before burning the evidence of your work in the sauna. With a fake smile, and sweaty palms, you say: "How can I say no to handsome strangers like you? Are your friends as good-looking, I wonder?" you laugh, a hollow sound that surely sounds fake to their ears. But they just smile, waving you inside. "You'll have to judge for yourself! They should be joining us any second now." The first guard says. Soon, the three of you are seated in the sauna. The smell of the whale oil is faint, nearly hidden by the strong aroma of eucalyptus and pine tar. "They added a new smell to the water?" The second guard asks, curious. "Yeah, smells weird..." the first one adds. "I think it's relaxing." you conclude, trying your best not to wrinkle your nose in disgust. They seem to visibly relax at that, and soon the three of you are enjoying the first ladle of water thrown onto the stones. "Come on now, no need to be shy. We're all friends here. Why don't you lose the towel?" the guard who invited you here suggests. You should've known... Fuck. Where is Kerr, and where are the other two guards? [[Play along - remove your towel.]] [[Refuse.]] [[Just attack the guards. Fuck the plan...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0602.png">Soon you find yourselves on the rooftops of Valkama once more, where you hastily put on your clothes again. Kerr is muttering under his breath, pacing back and forth across the snowy roof. "I said I'm sorry, alright. I just couldn't be in there alone with them..." But you don't feel like you should have to apologize. Not after what you witnessed in the alley with Einar the first night. What the guards are capable of. "What's done is done. Let's just get back to the hideout..." Kerr simply says, refusing to discuss what happened. At that moment, you suddenly get the urge to say a few choice words... [["You have no right to judge me. You don't have a fucking clue what it's like."]] [[Drop it. Just return to the hideout.|Embark on a journey back to the hideout.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0603.png">Your words are met with stunned silence, and Kerr refuses to look your way. After a moment, he sighs. "You're right. It was a stupid plan..." "Stupid plan? There was nothing wrong with the fucking plan. You didn't show up - you didn't follow the fucking plan." your anger has no end as you pour your wrath on Kerr. But even now he refuses to let his emotions take hold of him, remaining annoyingly, arrogantly, calm and collected. "I said: Wait until I get there, before you start killing people. Pretty straightforward." For a tiny moment you get an overwhelming urge to grab him and throw him down from the roof. "Urgh! Asshole... I knew you wouldn't understand..." And just like that, you decide it's pointless to try to educate Kerr about the complexity of emotions that guided your actions. What's done is done, after all... Kerr seems happy to drop the subject too. [[Head back to the hideout...|Embark on a journey back to the hideout.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0597.png">"Sure, why not? It's getting a bit hot in this anyway..." you admit, removing your towel, while ensuring the dagger remains hidden within. Then you place it in a near bundle next to you, with the dagger hidden but easily accessible. There you are, naked in the smoke sauna with two of the guards. The door opens, and the question where their friends were is answered. "Who's that? Another one of your 'friends'?" One of them asks. The first guard answers: "Just a lovely lady with an eye for adventure, aren't you darling?" He places his hand on your thigh without asking permission, and you have to fight the urge to draw your dagger there and then. Your head is spinning, but you manage to say with a fake smile: "Quite the adventure indeed!" the laughs that fill the sauna only further your state of panic. Kerr, where the fuck are you? "How about a swim in the ocean?" you suggest, wanting to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "What's the rush, eh? Relax, lass. You're in good hands..." the first guard says, his hand tracing its way up your thigh... Instinctively, your hand reaches into your towel, grabbing your dagger... [[A knock on the door to the sauna catches everyone's attention.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0596.png">"I'd rather get to know you boys a bit first, before I feel comfortable with something like that..." You say, refusing to remove your towel. "Oh you'll get to know us really well, don't worry about that..." The second guard says jokingly, but there's something in his eyes that tells a different story. The door opens, and the question where their friends were is answered. "Who's that? Another one of your 'friends'?" One of them asks. The first guard answers: "Just a lovely lady with an eye for adventure, aren't you darling?" He places his hand on your thigh without asking permission, and you have to fight the urge to draw your dagger there and then. Your head is spinning, but you manage to say with a fake smile: "Quite the adventure indeed!" the laughs that fill the sauna only further your state of panic. Kerr, where the fuck are you? "How about a swim in the ocean?" you suggest, wanting to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "What's the rush, eh? Relax, lass. You're in good hands..." the first guard says, his hand tracing its way up your thigh... Instinctively, your hand reaches into your towel, grabbing your dagger... [[A knock on the door to the sauna catches everyone's attention.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <<set $ch6_failed_mission to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0594.png">It happens in a flash. The guard next to you doesn't suspect a thing when you loosen your towel and grab your dagger. Then the blade is out, stabbed into his heart. His guard comrade next to him shouts, alarmed, but you're on him in no time. Your knife finds his neck and he grasps his throat, trying to shout another warning to the others. But only hisses and gurgles escape his throat as he falls down the rows of benches, straight into the hot stones on the stove. The smell of burning skin instantly fills the sauna, and you rush out into the stone tiled room. As soon as you exit the sauna, bloody dagger in hand, you hear a voice from across the room, coming from the entrance to the cloakroom. "What the... MURDER! Grab your weapon!" A voice shouts, hastily retreating into the cloakroom. Fuck... You rush after him, determined to put an end to this. But the secret is out, everyone in the building hears him as he shouts murder, murder, again and again. Suddenly, his shouts stop, and when you open the cloakroom you can see Kerr hugging the man, his dagger planted into the naked guard's chest. On the floor behind him lies a second guard, already dead, in a pool of his own blood. "Well, that's just brilliant." Kerr comments, breaking the struggling guard's neck with a sickening crunch. Bells are ringing all around you, warning everyone of danger. "Sorry, I... Lost my nerve..." you stutter. "Let's get the hell out of here..." he says, urging you on. There's no time to steal uniforms and torch the place. All chances of making this look like an accident have been lost. [[Together, you rush outside, disappearing into the darkness of the evening.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0598.png">"Room service! Someone ordered a keg of beer?" Kerr's familiar voice asks from the other side. Finally! You hand tightens around the hilt of the dagger. The guards seem confused, but happy at the news. The second guard stands up and goes down to greet the delivery. "Nice job lads, just what I need!" He says as he reaches the door. Confused looks are exchanged between the remaining guards as no one announces that this was their idea. Then, the second guard opens the door for Kerr... "Wait, we didn't..." one of the guards begins to say. But it's too late. Kerr's blade finds its target in a flash, as soon as the door opens, and in seconds he's pushed his way past the dead body into the sauna. Your own blade instantly finds the heart of the first guard who greeted you, who collapses with a stunned look on his face. Confused shouts, grunts of pain and a few seconds of struggling follows, but the remaining unarmed and naked guards don't stand a chance against the two of you. Before you know it, all four of them lie dead, their blood tainting the floor and benches of the sauna with a sickly crimson hue. "Nice job." Kerr comments, cleaning his blade on a towel. "Where the fuck were you? Things were getting... Handsy..." you protest, smacking him in the back of his head with the palm of your hand. "Ouch! Sorry... The ugh, staff were following me a bit too close for comfort. Had to shake them..." he begins. "Look, it doesn't matter. Let's just stick to the plan, alright?" he adds. Fine, fine! Fucks sake... [[Steal the guards' armor.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0599.png">You check for signs of trouble, listening carefully for any disturbances or shouting around you. But you hear nothing. Good. The thick walls of the sauna were enough to muffle the surprised call for help made by your targets. The cloakroom is adjacent with the stone tiled room, and no one's here to bother you when you enter it and begin rummaging around their belongings. You pocket a few loose coins, then choose a pair of armor that would fit Ebbe and Arne. Oversized for you now, for sure, but no one will be looking at you when the flames burn high. The risk of the fire spreading to nearby buildings is, luckily, minimal, as the saunas have plenty of space between them and corridors made from stone between them. [[Put on the guard uniform.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0600.png">After a few minutes of grunting and scratching your heads, you manage to slip into the guard uniforms. For a moment, you stare at Kerr, who's wearing a helmet covering his face. You know he's not coming to arrest you, but seeing these uniforms up-close has always been trouble. It feels surreal. "Hah! You look like a proper guard-cunt right now." Kerr muses, clearly thinking in the same vein as you. "Watch it, or might gut you out of habit." you retort, sliding your helmet on. The two of you return to the sauna, where Kerr moves the bodies around, drenches them in whale oil and throws the empty barrel in a corner of the room. "Ready?" Kerr asks, a lit match in his hand. You nod your head... [[You're ready.|ready sauna fire]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_supernatural">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0601.png">Kerr tosses the match as far into the room as he can, and then the two of you run like the wind, closing the door behind you. You can feel an instant soar of heat on your feet, coming from underneath the door's ventilation gap. The oil has instantly lit the whole smoke sauna, but the flames aren't yet visible outside. Soon you'll have a chance to slip out from the main entrance, warning the people of the fire. But not before the flames hide your tracks. The two of you wait in the cloak room, counting seconds, looking at the sauna door for signs of the fire's progression. Even when it bursts into flame, you sit tight, holding your breath. Then, when you dare not wait a moment longer, you scramble to your feet, rushing through the corridor to the main building and front entrance. "FIRE! THERE'S A FUCKING FIRE! GET BUCKETS! GATHER EVERYONE!" Kerr shouts as he rushes past the staff at the counter. You follow his footsteps out into the night, daring a glance back. The staff are admirably fast to react, rushing into the corridor where you came from. Outside, Kerr continues shouting and points. "THERE'S A FIRE! STOP STANDING OUT! MOVE! CONTAIN IT WHILE WE SEEK HELP!" Kerr's voice booms in the night. Behind you, the smoke sauna's window bursts from the heat, the flames lighting up the darkness of the harbor. There's chaos in the harbor, with people running everywhere, or simply standing and staring in silence. But as suspected, no one looks at you when you rush as fast as you can away from the scene. [[Disappear into the darkness in the chaos.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0604.png">The two of you run a few blocks away, the chainmail of the armor rattling the whole way. Soon, you're wheezing for breath, completely shocked by how heavy the uniform is. "Sto... op... Uhhh... Fuck... Uhhh... Me..." you desperately exclaim, unable to take another step. Kerr comes to a halt and joins you, glancing down at you as you sit down in a pile of snow. He isn't even out of breath! "Don't tell me I have to carry you..." Kerr sarcastically comments, rolling his eyes. "Fuck... Hnnh... You..." is all you manage to reply as you catch your breath. You're already far enough from the harbor, away from prying eyes. Now you need to retrieve your gear and head back to the hideout, after a successful mission. Which should be easy, as you can simply pretend to be guards and walk on the streets. Assuming other guards keep their distance and don't ask why you're patrolling on their turf... "Gimme a... Minute..." you protest, closing your eyes. This is going to be a long night... [[Embark on a journey back to the hideout.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0606.png">The rest of the day is spent discussing the heist, going through everyone's new tasks, the timing of events and the ironing out of kinks in the plan. It's decided. The spring-time flugandi hvalr whaling season is soon upon you, and in the chaos of the harvest is when you'll strike. Arne has given you an important role in the heist<<if $ch6_failed_mission is true>>, despite fucking up the assassination mission<</if>>. You and Einar will enter the exhibition hall, together with Hermes Dirk's arcane expert. You'll sneak in, take out any guards you encounter, and disable mundane and magical locks on the way. You'll grab the diamond and disappear. Then, you'll rendezvous at the carriages and leave town, quick as lightning, heading to Hermes Dirk's mansion in the remote town of Silversage Nursery, in the north-eastern corner of Jaerwik. After all, hell will break loose in Valkama when the royalty realize someone's stolen their most treasured diamond. A symbol of their power and history in a way, the very first blue diamond ever mined in Jaerwik. Thus, it's best to wait until things cool down before you return. Just in case. Finally, in the late afternoon just as the sun is casting an orange glow over the rooftops, Arne announces: "Meeting adjourned." dismissing the gang. Ebbe walks up to you, his tankard of ale empty. "Hey Taru! I'm heading out to grab a special batch of spiced mead: tar and honey flavored. Supposed to kick a punch! Join us for a round later today?" he asks. So, Ebbe is organizing a celebration of sorts. "Sounds great! Who's joining?" you ask. Ebbe shrugs. "Why, most of the gang of course!" Ebbe replies. Well, how can you say no to that? With a nod, you say: "I'll be there." Ebbe visibly cheers up, then heads downstairs, on a quest to find the fabled spiced mead. As the gang scatters around the attic, you glance around. It's good to be back, with familiar faces, talking and laughing. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is true>>But a hollow feeling in your chest ruins the moment. A feeling of having let everyone down by fucking up the mission.<<if $ch6_kill_with_kerr is false>> The blame also belongs to Einar, of course. But you tell yourself that you shouldn't feel too bad - after all, you saved the girl, and the guards got what they deserved.<</if>><</if>> [[Einar joins you at the table.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_date_einar to false>> <<set $ch6_harsh_toward_astrid to false>> <<set $ch6_follow_arne_and_ylva to false>> <<set $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex to false>> <<set $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <<set $ch6_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to 0>> <<set $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern to false>> <<set $ch6_rip_dress to false>> <<set $ch6_kiss_einar to false>> <<set $ch6_almost_eat_erika to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0607.png">The look on Einar's face is that of playful uncertainty as he joins you at the large attic table. Before he sits down next to you, he pulls out his chair and turns it around so that its back is facing your way. With a smooth motion, he throws one leg over the seat, straddling it. His body shifts as he settles in, the seat pressing against his thighs, his knees jutting slightly outward. The back of the chair, normally meant to be leaned on, now serves as a makeshift rest for his arms, elbows propped casually on the top edge. The back of his chair seems like a barrier between the two of you, like he's shielding himself from you. With a raised eyebrow, you turn to face Einar, pulling your chair ever-so-slightly his way. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is false>>"Good job out there with Kerr. I knew you could do it." Einar says softly, a hint of a smile on his lips. You smile back, knowing he would've liked to be there to see things through.<<else>><<if $ch6_kill_with_kerr is true>>"I just want you to know that I would've done the same in your situation..." Einar says softly, referring to your incidence at the public baths with the guard. You nod, acknowledging his thoughts, but you can't help but feel like you let the gang down.<<else>>"Feels like we let down the gang a bit... But I don't regret doing what we did." Einar says softly, but the hint of remorse in his tone betrays that he isn't as certain about that as he claims. "We did what we deemed right." you add, shaking your head.<</if>><</if>> Suddenly, Einar's smile widens. "Anyway... Ebbe's throwing a party later this evening<<if $ch6_failed_mission is true>>, not that we deserve one...<</if>> You're coming, right?" He asks. You say... [["Of course I'll be there. Wouldn't dare to miss it."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "theme_song">> <</silently>><img class="coverimage" src="img/cover.png">This is the end of the current unofficial public build. Thank you for playing this work-in-progress version of Taru's Infernal Pledge! If you wish to save your game, go back at least 1 passage in the story and save the game there. This "end of game" passage will not be part of the next release. Stay tuned for more updates, follow me on itch: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/ Official page for Taru's Infernal Pledge: https://flimsylegs.itch.io/tarus-infernal-pledge Link to game's discord: https://discord.gg/zyP8qgsDzk Cheers, FlimsyLegs

<<if $ch6_towel_on is true>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0576t.png"><<else>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0576nt.png"><</if>>You totally get it. The reason why the guards of the exhibition hall choose to come here every evening after their shifts. This is a small thing, but makes life worth living. A luxury and a way of life. And you haven't even taken a swim in the ice cold sea yet. "An accident, right?" Einar suddenly says, breaking the silence. "Retiring the guards? How about a tiny smoke sauna accident? They're known for burning down from time to time, nothing uncommon there. Tragic, but shouldn't raise too many eyebrows." He's got a point there. If you can get all the guards inside, dead or alive, and then burn it down to the ground before help arrives... That could work. "Look at you, solving problems like a professional. I like the plan." you admit. Yes. Sometimes a simple plan is the best plan. You already know the guards visit this place every day. All you need to do is arrive here before they do, enact a bit of sabotage, and ensure everything goes according to the plan. "Brilliant, I would say. Join me in the ocean?" he says, about to leave the sauna. He pauses at the door, waiting for your answer. [[Sure, you'll join him.]] [[A cold plunge in the sea? No thanks.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_upbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0617.png">A few hours later... It's late in the afternoon, and the sun has just disappeared over the horizon, way too early like it always does this time of year. Ebbe and Einar are admiring the massive barrel of tar and honey flavored mead. Wooden tankards are dotted across the attic table, awaiting eager hands. You're watching the gang gather around the barrel with anticipation, accompanied by an infectious laughter and playful banter. For now, you prefer to stay put at your vantage point off to the side, leaning against the doorway to your shared bedroom, simply watching the gang. Your eyes dart across the room. To Ebbe, who enthusiastically smashed the stopper of the barrel of mead, causing a gush of mead to flow uncontrollably onto the attic floor. He's laughing like a madman, grabs three tankards, and begins filling them up with the unstoppable flow of mead. The rest of the gang joins him, cursing him, laughing, as they grab tankards of their own. Arne and Ylva share a look after having filled their tankards, and they enter into a hushed conversation off to the side of the room, sitting on a pile of chests and barrels with supplies. Astrid only fills her tankard half-way and eyes the content with suspicion. Then, after a sip she nods to Ebbe with approval and fills her tankard to the brim. You see her leaving the others, heading downstairs to the warehouse-turned-stables. Ebbe is satisfied with three tankards of mead as he sits down next to it, a blissful look on his face. Hulda and Balder join him, demanding a taste, but he gently shakes his head at the two youngsters. He points to a smaller barrel, with a hand-carved image of an apple on the side. Hulda and Balder eagerly fill their tankards with the last remaining apple juice of this winter. Even Kerr grabs a tankard of the spiced mead and drags a chair across the room, planting it right in front of one of the whale oil radiators. He throws his legs over the hot iron with an uncharacteristically happy look on his face as he warms his frozen feet, with a tankard of mead in his hands. Einar grabs a tankard too, and so does Erika. She glances over her shoulder at you, and fills up another tankard. Then Ebbe dutifully flips the barrel on its side, stopping the uncontrollable flow of mead. [[Erika walks over to you with a tankard in each hand.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_date_einar to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0616.png">"Einar..." you begin, trying to land this gently. He shuts his mouth, clearly sensing something in your voice as he stiffens in his chair. His foot stops tapping and his fingers stop fidgeting. "You're like my best friend too, Einar. And I truly appreciate your kind and thoughtful words. I think you're incredible too..." The look on Einar's face betrays conflicting thoughts and emotions as he listens to you. "... And that's how I see us. Friends who can rely on each-other. And we need to keep it that way, for our sake, and for the gangs sake." You seek his eyes, trying to see if he understands what you're saying. He does. You've never seen Einar like this, a deep furrow on his forehead, a confused and hurt look in his eyes. Damn him, why'd he have to start getting feelings... "It's best to keep things as they are, don't you think? Hey. I don't want to lose my best friend, alright?" you place your hand on Einar's shoulder. He takes a few deep breaths as he looks at you, and slowly but surely you can see the old Einar coming back, his nervousness gone. He shakes his head. "Fuck! No... You're right, you're right... Erika said the same thing. Should've listened to her... Fuck, I feel stupid. Yeah, it's best this way, for sure. I mean, I..." He's rambling now. "Hey." you say with a firm voice, squeezing his shoulder hard. He stops. "Some girl is going to be lucky to have you, alright? You're a fantastic guy. But it's not me. I know you know that." Finally, it seems he fully accepts what you're trying to say. "Yeah, you're right... You'll still have my back though? As friends?" he asks with his usual mischievous grin back. "Absolutely. You can count on me, partner in crime." you reply with a nod and a grin of your own, releasing your grip on Einar's shoulder. He clears his throat and abruptly stands up. "Right, well... I think I'll go help Ebbe with those barrels... Good talk, Taru." he scrambles off. "Good talk..." Some things are better to nip in the bud. And this was definitely one of those things. It's the wrong time, the wrong place and the wrong person, unfortunately. You didn't want to hurt his feelings, of course, but he seemed to have taken it well. You hope that this won't change your friendship... [[Wait for the evening and join Ebbe and the others for a round of drinks.|evening drinks]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0608.png">"Great!" he replies, glancing around the attic. The two of you are alone in the meeting room, kept company only by the churning of the whale-oil radiators dotted along the walls. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is false>>"Speaking of a job well done, what did Ylva need you to do? She was pretty vague at the Rustic Fork Inn." you ask, genuinely curious. Einar shrugs. "Oh that? Well, it involved a bit of casual breaking and entering. And sneaking right behind a guard through a long corridor without him noticing, all the way to the other side, then casually slipping past him. I was sure he would feel my breath on his neck..." Einar shrugs, but you can't help but wonder if he is spinning a tall tale, or telling the truth? Something in his casual demeanor tells you he isn't lying, but he is rather proud of himself. "Stressful as hell, I tell you. But I managed to open the window for Ylva and Astrid to sneak into the building." Again he shrugs, like it wasn't a big deal. "Impressive. Just a regular day for the Shadow, eh?" you remark, giving your long-time best friend in the gang an encouraging nod and a smile.<</if>> Einar looks like he's about to say something, but hesitates. <<if $ch6_einar_points >= 6>><<else>>"I'll catch you later, then, at Ebbe's party." he says and abruptly stands up. Before you can think of a thing to say, he's gone. For a second there you felt like he was about to say something else. Well, you don't mind a bit of alone-time. These past few days have been exhausting, to say the least.<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_points >= 6>>[[He looks nervous.]]<<else>>[[Relax alone for a while and wait until the evening.|evening drinks]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_seduce2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0609.png">The look on his face has shifted, and he's now nervously glancing around the attic, fidgeting with his fingers, and frantically tapping a foot against the wooden floor of the attic. He looks like a man weighed down by a heavy burden, something that he desperately needs to get off his chest. "I uhh..." Einar begins, then clears his throat. His breath is quick as he for the third time glances around the attic, as if you make sure no one else in the gang is within ear-shot of what he's about to say. "So here's the thing... Or not so much a thing as a fact. Or whatever... Uhm... What I meant to say is that we've been through a lot together over the past years, right?" he says. You don't want to interrupt his train-of-thoughts, and so you simply nod, letting him talk. "I feel like we know each-other really well. You're like my best friend. You know that, right?" He manages to say, finally mustering the courage to look you in the eyes. What you glimpse in the depths of his eyes is a new side of him, a vulnerability you haven't seen before. "It's just that lately... Especially over the past weeks, I feel there's been tension between us. A shift. And it makes me feel distracted. I'm sure you know what I mean..." [[You have a pretty good idea of what he's talking about.]] [[You have no idea what he's talking about.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0610.png">You shake your head, looking at him like he's gone mad. "Actually, I don't know what you mean. I feel that nothing's changed." you say with a raised eyebrow. Einar hesitates, like he's gathering his courage. "I guess it's just me then... But I want you to know that you're absolutely incredible. And not just at climbing, sneaking about and handling yourself in a fight. I think I'm... No, I know for a fact that I'm... That you're..." Einar's cheeks are suddenly visibly blushing as he struggles with his emotions, and to say the words that seem to be stuck in his chest. You have a pretty good idea what he's about to say... [[Let him talk.]] [[You see where this is going, you feel that it's a mistake - stop his rambling.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0611.png">You nod. You've felt it too, a small change of sorts. "I know what you mean." you say, acknowledging that he isn't imagining things. Einar hesitates, like he's gathering his courage. "I'm glad it's not just me. Look... I want you to know that you're absolutely incredible. And not just at climbing, sneaking about and handling yourself in a fight. I think I'm... No, I know for a fact that I'm... That you're..." Einar's cheeks are suddenly visibly blushing as he struggles with his emotions, and to say the words that seem to be stuck in his chest. You have a pretty good idea what he's about to say... [[Let him talk.]] [[You see where this is going, you feel that it's a mistake - stop his rambling.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0612.png">Einar clearly has something important that he wishes to say, and so you choose not to interrupt him. You even offer him an encouraging nod. "What I'm trying to say is... And I don't want this to change anything between us... And I completely understand if you say no... It's just that lately, I've begun to see you as more than a friend... And, I mean, I would like to..." Einar's face turns crimson. "... to ask you out." He visibly relaxes, having achieved his goal of asking his question, but soon that relaxed state is replaced by a nervous anticipation as he looks at you, dreading your answer. Wait... Is he being serious right now? The look he's giving you says it all. Bloody hells, he's not joking... [[For a moment, you're too shocked to answer.]] [[Say to him with a grin: "Well, then ask!"]] [['With a smile, say: "Thank you for asking, but the answer is no."'|You see where this is going, you feel that it's a mistake - stop his rambling.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0613.png">A part of you anticipated this question, given Einar's nervous looks and hesitation, but hearing his thoughts out loud still somehow manages to catch you off-guard. He wants to throw away all the years of friendship between you and take a gamble that it may become something more. He sees your hesitation, and might even be drawing his own conclusions based on your expression alone. You need to let him know what you're thinking. He deserves an honest answer. Seconds feel like minutes as you struggle to make sense of your own thoughts. [[It's just a date, no need to overthink things. Say yes.|say yes to Einar]] [[Gently turn him down. You see him as just a friend.|You see where this is going, you feel that it's a mistake - stop his rambling.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0614.png">It feels good to mess with your friend's head by grinning and saying: "Well, then ask!" He looks at you in confusion at first, then grins back. "Fair enough! Damn, you're not making this easy? Alright, here we go..." Einar says, gathering his courage again to properly ask the question, rather than dance around the subject. "Taru, would you like to go out on a date with me?" There. Finally. Took him a long while to get there, but the question he's been carrying for a while is at last out in the open. But how do you feel about all this? He is your best friend, sure, and you love spending time with him. But taking things further could be messy and complicate things, assuming that's even something you want... [[It's just a date, no need to overthink things. Say yes.|say yes to Einar]] [[Gently turn him down. You see him as just a friend.|You see where this is going, you feel that it's a mistake - stop his rambling.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_date_einar to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0615.png">"Sounds lovely. I accept the invitation. But just to be clear: I'm saying yes to the date, but let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet." you tell him with a wide grin. He looks relieved and happy, and grins back at you. "Fantastic! Rest assured, I shall promise you but two thing: A whale of a time, and a gentleman in all manners!" Einar says, a smile on his face, looking like a heavy weight has been lifted from his shoulders. "I already booked us a table for two, for tomorrow evening, at Lingonberry Tavern, in the southern part of the University District. Have you been there?" he reveals. Cheeky bastard, who made a reservation before he knew your answer! "No, I have not. But it sounds perfect." you conclude. Einar stands up, with a look on his face like he could conquer the world. "Right, great! I think I'll go help Ebbe with those barrels... See you at the party?" he asks. "For sure. Well, go on then!" he finally leaves, with a final glance back, before sliding down the ladder to the lower floor of the abandoned warehouse. Well... What the fuck just happened? Einar just asked you out. And you feel a mixture of emotions. You calm yourself by telling you that it's just a date. But it's Einar. Is there such a thing as "just a date" with someone you've known for so long? This will potentially change everything about your friendship, for better or for worse... Damn it. You'll cross that bridge when you get there. Tomorrow. At Lingonberry Tavern... For now, you choose to push this subject to the side and focus on what's right ahead. Ebbe's mead party. [[Wait for the evening and join Ebbe and the others for a round of drinks.|evening drinks]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0618.png">"Here you go. Special batch. Ebbe's seal of approval and all." she announces, presenting the tankard of mead like it's a priced treasure. With a roll of your eyes you accept it and Erika joins you in the doorway, leaning her shoulder against the frame. A moment goes by with neither of you saying a word as you observe the rest of the gang. The mead is actually very good. Sweet from the honey, with a smoky aftertaste of the tar. But you can tell it's strong, the alcohol barely hidden by the spices and sweetness. "Nervous? About the heist, I mean." Erika asks, glancing your way as she takes another mouthful of Ebbe's delicious mead. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is true>>"Aren't you? We're not exactly off to a great start here..."<<else>>"Aren't you? We're not robbing just anyone. We're essentially breaking in and stealing from the King's personal hoard of treasure."<</if>> Erika shrugs her shoulders at your reply. "Well, sure, when you put it that way. But I see it like this: A chance to leave a mark in Valkama. Finally becoming legends, you know? Go down in history, our names becoming immortal." She smiles over her tankard of mead, piercing her at you with her pale blue eyes. This is a side of her you haven't seen before. When did Erika become so ambitious? "Damn. Didn't know you had such dreams of grandeur. You sound like Kerr or Ylva right now. Are you sure it's not the mead talking?" you retort. Once again you're reminded how strong Ebbe's mead is when you take another sip. "I just..." She begins, searching for the correct words. "I don't want to be a nobody. Another face in mass. A human fate no one remembers, you know?" Well, you can certainly understand that point. "Fair enough. But we're choosing between two extremes here: Being forgotten, or becoming infamous. All fame is good fame, or so someone somewhere sometimes probably said. But is it really?" you shrug, unable to answer your own rhetorical question. After a moment's consideration, Erika raises her tankard. "A toast to fame! May we go straight into the book of history or go down in a blaze of glory!" she announces loudly to the entire room, gaining everyone's attention. A roaring cheer rises from the gathered gang members. You raise your own tankard, meeting Erika's with a muted wooden thud. "To fame!" you repeat, seeing a new boldness in Erika's eyes. <<if $ch6_einar_points >= 6>>[[Erika leans against the wall next to you, relaxing.|einar discussion]]<<else>><<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>[[Erika leans against the wall next to you, relaxing.|jeff discussion]]<<else>>[[Erika takes another sip of her mead.|erika convo over]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_einar to false>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe to false>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_arne to false>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_astrid to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0621.png">"I'll go downstairs, check on Astrid. Catch you later, Taru!" Erika announces, waving her tankard of mead in your direction before strolling toward the ladder and disappearing. You find yourself looking at the gang, gathered around the attic in smaller groups. To your left, next to the windows, sits Einar and Kerr busy in a low muted discussion. At the table in the middle of the room sits Ebbe, playing cards with the small ones Hulda and Balder. At the back of the room sits Ylva and Arne, on a pile of crates and barrels, in a casual conversation. And below you out-of-sight are Erika and Astrid, no doubt admiring the horses Erika hand-picked for the heist. As you drink the spiced tar and honey mead, you realize that your tankard of mead does not need refilling any time soon - which is a good thing. Your eyes scan the room once more. [[Join Einar and Kerr for a moment.]] [[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]] [[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]] [[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]] [[Retire early - for some reason you're not in the mood to mingle this evening.|end of party]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0620.png">"Not that it's any of my business, but..." Erika says quietly to you after the gang has returned their attention to whatever they were doing before the toast. "I saw your conversation with my fool of a brother. How did that go?" The smile on her face is contradicted by the worried look she gives you. "Oh that..." you begin, taking a deliberately long and thoughtful sip of mead, buying yourself time to think. Your eyes scan the attic, your gaze finding Einar, who's sitting with Kerr by the radiators, in a muted discussion. You decide to answer honestly. <<if $ch6_date_einar is true>>"Look, I know it's not the smart thing to do. And I'm aware of the massive risks involved if things go tits up. But... I said yes. To a date. That's it. No need to make this a bigger..." your words are interrupted by Erika suddenly launching herself at you, wrapping her arms around you and hugging you tight. "Taru that's... I'm just..." She's relentless, smothering you in a tight embrace, her tankard of mead dangerously close to spilling its content over both of you. Before you have time to react, she disengages, composing herself and wipes away a tear. "I wish the two of you the best of luck, Taru. Let him down gently if you end things though, alright?" Having Erika's approval was... Unexpected, to say the least. "Don't worry. I'll be as gentle about it as I can, if it comes to that." Those were clearly not the words Erika was waiting to hear, but she nods, accepting that you haven't fully made up your mind yet. "Good. I'm glad..." she manages to say, a smile on her lips.<<else>>"I don't know what he told you, exactly... But I gently declined." At first, Erika's look is impossible to decipher, going from worried to sad, to suddenly relieved. "Good... So the two of your are... Alright? He took it well?" She asks, glancing a look in Einar's direction. "We're good, I think. It was a mostly mutual decision... But time will tell." you admit, hoping that Einar didn't take it the wrong way. "Well, I think you might've avoided potential catastrophe." Erika concludes. It's a relief to hear that she isn't angry or disappointed. "That's good to hear, Erika." you add, smiling at your friend.<</if>> <<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>[[Erika suddenly gets a devious look on her face.|jeff discussion]]<<else>>[[Erika takes another sip of her mead.|erika convo over]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0619.png">"Anyway... I wanted to thank you. For introducing Jeff and I. He really knows how to treat a lady..." Erika says with a grin. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>You almost choke on your mead as your cheeks blush in a flash from the vivid memory of seeing Erika bound and naked in the tavern's bedroom, dominated by Jeff...<<else>>You wave your hand, dismissing her sincere thanks.<</if>> "Oh stop it, I didn't do anything, really." you manage to reply, unwilling to take any credit for their meeting. Erika seems deep in thought, no doubt thinking about Jeff. "You've been seeing him after the night at the inn?" you ask her, observing the gathered gang members. Laughter fills the attic from scattered conversations. Erika nods. "Oh yes, as often as I can. In fact, I'm seeing him tomorrow! You know, he's got a fantastic apartment on the eighth floor in a fancy-ass building - in the aristocratic district!" she reveals, with a triumphant smile and a wink. Wait, he has a what...? You turn your full attention to Erika. "You're saying Jeff is actually some spoiled rich guy? What the hell was he doing at the Donkey's Drum Inn - that's a fucking long way from his satin cushions." Your harsh words are softened by your smile and your joking tone. Erika shakes her head and waves away your concerns. "Well, let's just say that he has a... How shall I put this... A means of traveling that is quite convenient. And he loves meeting new people - from all walks of life. And he is far from a spoiled rich guy." Erika seems convinced, and well, she certainly knows him better than you... "A means of traveling conveniently? Don't tell me - he has a pet Flugandi Hvalr flying him across Valkama?" But Erika simply shakes her head and says: "A lady doesn't kiss and tell." Then she gives you a wink. Fine! She can keep her secrets. But now you're curious indeed... For a moment, you get the feeling that she's about to say more, but she remains silent. The laughter of the gang fills the attic as you observe the others for a moment. [[Erika takes another sip of her mead.|erika convo over]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0634.png">When you glance a final time around the attic, you suddenly feel tired to your very bones. And a little tipsy. You didn't drink much at all... And yet Ebbe's fantastic special batch of mead goes straight to the brain. With a tired smile on your lips, you quietly retire for the night, slipping into your bedroll. Right now, shut-eye is exactly what you need. With a final massive yawn you fall asleep instantly. ... Your dreams are invaded by Erika's voice. "Taru. Wake up!" She whispers. Why would Erika in your dreams try to wake you up? Stubborn and protesting, you turn the other way, trying to make the phantom disappear. But your world is shaken, literally, by Erika's hands? "I know you don't want to miss this adventure, get up sleepy-head!" Erika's voice says again. Wait. This isn't a dream? Slowly, you realize it's the real Erika. Finally, you open your eyes and gaze up on her. "It's the middle of the Gods-damned night Erika, what's up?" you whisper, confused, blinking up at her. No one else seems to be awake. "I didn't want to wake the others, but I don't want to sneak out alone either." She whispers. "Ylva and Arne snuck out together, literally seconds ago. No word about it to anyone. I bet they're up to something... Come on, let's follow them, find out what they're doing!" Erika says, an eager look on her face. Damn, she really does look excited for a little adventure. Your sleepy brain somehow manages to say... [["Fine, fine! Get an eye on them, I'll grab my gear."]] [["Erika... Whatever they're doing is probably private and not for our eyes, alright?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_einar to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0622.png">Einar and Kerr are in a muted discussion in front of a boarded-up window, warming themselves next to one of the many whale-oil radiators dotted across the attic's walls. They glance up when you join them, dragging a chair behind you in one hand, and a tankard of mead in the other. "I hope I'm interrupting something important." you announce with a smirk as you sit down between Einar and Kerr, lifting your feet up on the radiator for warmth. "Actually, we need an unbiased opinion. Kerr and I are at an impasse." Einar replies with a grin. "Einar's opinion is ridiculous." Kerr quickly adds, thoughtfully drinking his spiced mead. "Let's hear it." you say, glancing from one to the other. You're unsure just how unbiased you can be in this situation though... <<if $ch6_date_einar is true>>Einar's warm smile and attentive gaze are the only hints of your scheduled date tomorrow. You find yourself smiling back.<</if>> Einar clears his throat. "We're discussing Mundilfari and whether or not the moon watches over thieves, cloaking them in darkness when needed, and guiding their way with its light." Einar begins. "Einar believes that he's being protected by a benevolent higher power in the sky - a giant silver rock at that." Kerr says, dismissing the notion. "Kerr on the other hand thinks no one is watching over us, that we are godless in every sense of the word." Einar retorts, frowning into his tankard of mead. Well... That's certainly not what you expected them to discuss. "I..." you begin, but you're interrupted by Kerr. "For crying out loud... The moon isn't guiding us, Einar. It's just bouncing sunlight back at us, like a dull coin with no shine of its own. A cold rock cannot be a God - and even if it was, it wouldn't care about mortals." It sounds like they've been discussing this back-and-forth for a while already. "Maybe you haven't felt it, Kerr, but there's a pull. Like it's not just a rock in the sky, but something alive, something that... understands." Einar says, then adds: "I'm just saying, Kerr, that there's a reason I'm better at staying hidden than you are - I'm being watched over by Mundilfari, while you have forsaken the sacred pact and walk without guidance." He waves his tankard of mead in the general direction of the window. "That would be a compelling way of looking at it - that it's not skill but a lucky blessing that makes you better at stealth than me. But, I refuse to believe that. As painful as it is to admit - you really are the better shadow." Kerr retorts. Einar and Kerr both turn their attention to you, waiting for your opinion. You glance from one to the other, then decide to say... [["I'm with Einar on this - Mundilfari clearly watches over us."]] [["I have to side with Kerr on this - The moon is just a cold rock."]] [["It's an unprovable thing either way, but both of you have a point..."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0626.png">It looks like Ebbe, Hulda and Balder are having a blast playing cards at the table in the middle of the room. With determined steps, you head over there to join them. Ebbe is guarding the barrel of mead like it's a prized possession with one arm, playing card with another and yet somehow manages to have two tankards of mead in his hands at the same time. Impressive. "What are we playing?" you ask as you join them, sitting down to Ebbe's right side, with the barrel of mead between you and him. On the opposite side of the table sits Hulda and Balder. "Hey we're finally four players! Let's play Pidro!" Hulda announces with a delighted squeal. "Yeah! Old vs young, come on Taru we need to swap places." Balder adds, on his feet in an instant. Right, up you go. Balder and you change places so that you're sitting next to Hulda on one side of the table, facing Ebbe - your pair - diagonally. Balder sits next to Ebbe, facing Hulda diagonally - his pair. Hulda shuffles the deck and deals out 9 cards to all players. You're on the dealer's left side, so you'll be the first to bid. Your cards aren't impressive, but a possible spades path could net you and Ebbe a victory this round. Of course, you have no idea what he has in his hand, but it's worth a shot. "7." you announce. A careful estimate indeed. Balder is quick to counter: "9!" He looks confident. Ebbe scratches his chin, looking at his cards. He does remember the rules, right? "10?" he says, shrugging. "Pass. What suit are we playing?" Hulda asks Ebbe. He clears his throat: "Hearts." You glance down on your cards. You have the five of diamonds - the only non-hearts card worth any points this round, but that's it. You really hope Ebbe knows what he's doing... One by one, you discard all non-hearts cards, except the other matching color's number five. Then the Hulda tops off your hand with new cards from the deck until everyone has 6 cards in their hands. [[Ebbe starts by placing the ace of heart on the table.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_arne to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0628.png">Your gaze finds Ylva, who's nodding in thought at something Arne said. With determined steps, you head over to the leader of your gang and his second-in-command, raising your tankard in a toast. <<if $ch6_failed_mission is true>>Neither look mad at you for fucking up the first part of the mission, which is good... <</if>>Ylva raises her tankard in response. "Taru, how nice of you to join us. Concerns about the heist?" She asks, reading something in your expression. Oh, for sure, many. You jump up on a massive crate, sitting down on Arne's left side. "There's a couple of unknown quantities I don't like one bit." you admit, pointing conspiratorially at Ylva and Arne with the same hand that is holding the tankard of mead. "For one: Hermes Dirk's arcane expect. What do we actually know about him?" Arne nods his head, acknowledging your concern. "A valid point. But considering Hermes Dirk is the client, and he has all the reasons in the world to see this heist succeed, I wouldn't be too concerned. We have a meeting scheduled with him in a few days. We'll get his measure and see what kind of man we're dealing with. Don't worry." Hmm. Fine. That'll have to do, for now. "Right, well. How about Hermes Dirk himself? Are we going to ignore the rumours about him?" you point out, referring to his notorious reputation even amongst the criminals of Valkama. "I thought we all voted on this already - that we choose to trust a paying client. But you're right. We've been doing a bit of research on that front." Ylva says, crossing her legs. "He has many bitter rivals who all try to paint a bad picture - spreading false rumours. Most of what we've heard isn't true. And the bits that are true can be said of any criminal in Valkama - us included." She concludes, shrugging. "Well, looks like the two of you do have everything under control after all. Who am I to question such old and wise leaders of our fine gang." You say with a playful smirk, hiding it partially behind your tankard of mead as you take another drink. "Old? Bah, just wait a few years and your tits will start to sag too." Ylva says, frowning. But she's smiling. Arne seems to glance down at Ylva's breasts, but she either doesn't notice or care. You too sneak a look. They look quite firm... But looks can be deceiving, of course. The situation has suddenly become a bit awkward, with Arne staring at Ylva's breast, without her protesting. You suddenly feel like a third wheel in something strangely private... "I'll be heading... Over there... Great talk..." you mumble, leaving the two leaders of your gang and returning to the middle of the room. Your gaze travels across the gathered gang in the attic as you thoughtfully drink your spiced mead. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_einar is false>>[[Join Einar and Kerr for a moment.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_astrid is false>>[[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_attic_talk_astrid to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0629.png">Your gaze turns to the ladder leading downstairs, where Astrid and Erika have quietly snuck retreated. You're curious what they're up to, and also curious to see just what kind of beasts Erika has managed to get her hands on for the heist. The descent downstairs is precarious with a tankard of mead in your hands, but you manage it without spilling a drop. The abandoned warehouse looks quite different now. It has become a makeshift stables, with six horses in their own stalls. The smell of hay and dung is palpable as you make your way across the massive room to the far end where the horses are kept. There you find Astrid and Erika, petting and talking to the horses. All six of them are powerfully built, standing tall with sturdy, muscular frames made for enduring the harsh winters of Jaerwik. Their coats are thick, almost woolly, with layers of shaggy fur covering their necks, chests, and legs. Their manes and tails are dense and their legs are thick and solid. There's something intelligent in their eyes. Astrid laughs softly, brushing her fingers through the thick mane of the horse in front of her. "You're spoiled, aren't you?" she says, her voice warm. "Nothing but the warm stables for you. We'll have to do something about your thick fur before the summer - or you'll just melt from the heat, won't you cutie?" Erika grins, giving another horse a firm pat on the side. "Glad you're not some southern breeds, aren't you? It's a bit chilly here in the warehouse, sorry about that. But your thick coat is just made for this kind of thing, isn't it?" She ruffles the fur around the second horse's neck and whispers, "Aren't you just the biggest, fluffiest beauty ever?" Astrid nods in agreement, resting her cheek against the horse's neck. "Fine steeds indeed, Erika. Where did you manage to find them?" you ask as you join them, smiling as you carefully approach a third horse. But it seems completely relaxed in your presence, allowing you to pet it immediately. Horses that don't spook easily - that was the requirement, wasn't it? Erika shrugs, like it wasn't that big of a deal. "Pulled some strings. Greased some palms. A fat purse of coin did the heavy lifting." She points to the other side of the warehouse where two large wooden stagecoaches are silently waiting for the day of the heist. The gang's means of escaping the city and the chaos that follows. [[They look old, rusty and in desperate need of maintenance...|They look worn.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0627.png">With the ace of hearts on the table, you're guaranteed to win this first play at least. On your right, Hulda places the three of hearts on the table - a low card worth no points, a solid plan to get it out early when there's no chance to win. You place your five of diamonds in front of you. Ebbe nods with approval, and Balder places a four of hearts. Ebbe and you scored a total of 6 points from this hand - five points from your five of diamonds, and one point for the ace. But you'll need to get 10 or more points this round, otherwise you'll get negative 10 points instead. Having won the hand, Ebbe continues, this time placing a king of hearts. "Oh come on!" Hulda sighs with frustration, and puts down the five of hearts in front of her. Ebbe has effectively stolen the card and its points from her. This round you have no cards that can give points, so you place your seven of hearts on the table. But you've already won this entire round, even if Hulda and Balder can manage to steal a few points here or there. Balder places a six of hearts on the table. This hand, you and Ebbe scored 5 points - the only card worth any points this round was, after all, Hulda's five of hearts. Ebbe continues, placing out a 9 of hearts. Hulda turns her cards face-up, revealing she has no more hearts in her hand and must pass all future hands this round. You glance at your hand. The only valid card you have left is the two of hearts - and it's worth 1 point. Gingerly, you place it on the table, knowing that Balder is probably going to steal it... Which he does, when he places a 10 of hearts onto the table, another card worth 1 point. The round continues, with Balder managing to score a point with his jack of hearts as well. The final points dealt this round were 11 to Ebbe and you, and 3 points to Hulda and Balder. The four of you continue playing a few more rounds of Pidro, seeing which team manages to get over 50 points first. "You know... Have you ever wondered how cool drinks, when left on the table, become warm drinks? Who tells the drink to warm up, eh? And and... If you have a hot drink, it cools down? What's that about?" Ebbe suddenly asks mid-game, confused, looking around the table. Three tankards of mead are discarded in front of him, and he's in the process of pouring himself a fourth. You're still on your first. "Everything tries to reach an equleebrium, Ebbe. A cold or hot drink in here would eventually become the same temperature as the room - rules of the universe." Hulda reveals proudly. "That's equilibrium, Hulda, but you're right. I've heard of such a theory. A neat explanation, for sure." you admit, impressed at how much the little one knows. "You're telling me my drink gets warm because of equilihmmph... Right. Makes no sense." Ebbe retorts, shaking his head in denial. The four of you continue playing cards until eventually, Hulda and Balder turn out victorious. "Another game?" Balder asks, eagerly wanting to continue. "Sorry, one game is enough for me. Good game though. We were outmatched." you reply, apologetically standing up and leaving the three of them to their cards. But you demand a refill of mead before you leave the table, which Ebbe is happy to provide. Your gaze travels across the gathered gang in the attic as you thoughtfully drink your spiced mead. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_einar is false>>[[Join Einar and Kerr for a moment.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_astrid is false>>[[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0624.png">You agree with Einar's point-of-view. Kerr scoffs to himself when Einar bows his head theatrically, raising his tankard in a victorious toast. "May the moon watch over us in the darkness of the night." he concludes. Well put indeed. "It's still a bunch of horse-shit..." Kerr mutters, shaking his head. "Everyone's allowed to their own opinions and world-views. Oh come on you two, relax already." you sigh, rolling your eyes. Einar's and Kerr's shoulders visibly sink as they take a deep breath. "Alright, that's better. Look, I've been meaning to ask for a while now... How do I say this delicately... Oh, right. What in the bloody abyssal hellfire happened in Dreamworks Gardens last summer? Arne has refused to go into details, but I know for a fact the two of you were involved..." They both get a sudden guilty and embarrassed look on their faces, avoiding your inquisitive gaze. "Could've used some of your moon-magic that night..." Kerr mumbles into his tankard. "I was doing just fine until you..." Einar begins, and so the truth about the Dreamworks Gardens incident finally unfolds before you. You sit there mesmerized, listening to the events of the botched heist turned into a chaotic clusterfuck. Who knew so many things could go wrong all at once? ... Half an hour later, the tale comes to an end, and you excuse yourself. Finally an answer, after all this time. You sincerely hope the latest heist planned by your gang doesn't go tits up like that... Deep in thought, you scan the attic, checking on all the gang members. A smile creeps to your lips. Everyone seems to be having a good time. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_astrid is false>>[[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0625.png">You find yourself agreeing with neither. It's just impossible to know for sure either way. "Sorry, the world isn't black and white." you conclude. Kerr mockingly adds: "You should be a diplomat, Taru, with such neutral opinions." But Einar scoffs, waving his hand. "Can't convince everyone, I suppose..." He says under his breath. "Everyone's allowed to their own opinions and world-views. Oh come on you two, relax already." you sigh, rolling your eyes. Einar's and Kerr's shoulders visibly sink as they take a deep breath. "Alright, that's better. Look, I've been meaning to ask for a while now... How do I say this delicately... Oh, right. What in the bloody abyssal hellfire happened in Dreamworks Gardens last summer? Arne has refused to go into details, but I know for a fact the two of you were involved..." They both get a sudden guilty and embarrassed look on their faces, avoiding your inquisitive gaze. "Could've used some of your moon-magic that night..." Kerr mumbles into his tankard. "I was doing just fine until you..." Einar begins, and so the truth about the Dreamworks Gardens incident finally unfolds before you. You sit there mesmerized, listening to the events of the botched heist turned into a chaotic clusterfuck. Who knew so many things could go wrong all at once? ... Half an hour later, the tale comes to an end, and you excuse yourself. Finally an answer, after all this time. You sincerely hope the latest heist planned by your gang doesn't go tits up like that... Deep in thought, you scan the attic, checking on all the gang members. A smile creeps to your lips. Everyone seems to be having a good time. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_astrid is false>>[[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0623.png">You agree with Kerr's point-of-view. Einar looks stunned for a moment, while Kerr bows his head theatrically, raising his tankard in a victorious toast. "Trust in your own skills - not the uncaring light of a cold rock." Kerr concludes. Well put indeed. "Well, that's the beautiful thing about belief isn't it - it's a leap of faith. I for one refuse to believe that we're completely alone out here as outlaws. The Gods of the masses, like The God of Mercy, are certainly not watching over us. But the moon is." Einar adamantly proclaims, like he's trying to convince himself as much as you. "Everyone's allowed to their own opinions and world-views. Oh come on you two, relax already." you sigh, rolling your eyes. Einar's and Kerr's shoulders visibly sink as they take a deep breath. "Alright, that's better. Look, I've been meaning to ask for a while now... How do I say this delicately... Oh, right. What in the bloody abyssal hellfire happened in Dreamworks Gardens last summer? Arne has refused to go into details, but I know for a fact the two of you were involved..." They both get a sudden guilty and embarrassed look on their faces, avoiding your inquisitive gaze. "Could've used some of your moon-magic that night..." Kerr mumbles into his tankard. "I was doing just fine until you..." Einar begins, and so the truth about the Dreamworks Gardens incident finally unfolds before you. You sit there mesmerized, listening to the events of the botched heist turned into a chaotic clusterfuck. Who knew so many things could go wrong all at once? ... Half an hour later, the tale comes to an end, and you excuse yourself. Finally an answer, after all this time. You sincerely hope the latest heist planned by your gang doesn't go tits up like that... Deep in thought, you scan the attic, checking on all the gang members. A smile creeps to your lips. Everyone seems to be having a good time. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_astrid is false>>[[Check on Astrid, Erika and the horses.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0630.png">"Those have seen better days..." you can't help but comment, raising a questioning eyebrow. Erika accepts the critique: "Indeed. The horses took most of our budget, so we had to make due with what we could afford. Legally obtained horses and a means to escape - so as to not draw unwanted attention before or during the heist. And that's what we got." She shrugs. "Arne says he and Ebbe will inspect their state, and if necessary, conduct repairs. They'll be reliable during the heist, don't worry." Right. Well for all of your sakes, you certainly hope they can reinforce them. The last thing you need on the day of the heist is for a wheel to come loose... "How was your mission with Ylva, Astrid? You know, before you came to a halt and had to meet us at the Rustic Fork Inn.." you ask, genuinely curious. She absent-mindedly scratches behind the ear of the horse in front of her. "I uh... We did some scouting, surveying, that sort of thing. Quite uneventful, really..." She begins. "Hey that's not the story you told me, Astrid! Come on, spill the beans. Taru is burning to hear all of it!" Erika injects. Astrid nervously tucks her hair behind her ear with one hand, while patting the horse with the other. The horse playfully pushes her with its nose. "Look... It's such a minor thing, it's nothing compared to what you're usually up to Taru..." She starts, but is once again interrupted by Erika: "Don't diminish your accomplishments Astrid, and don't compare your successes with others. Come on girl!" You give Astrid an encouraging look, and finally she relents. "Fine, fine! Ok... So, Ylva and I were in a strictly off-limits alley, right? We were trying to steal the keys to the gate leading to the ledgers." She begins, and you give her your full attention. Somehow you get the feeling that she wants and needs your approval, and so you decide to give it to her. It's the least you can do. [[Astrid continues her story.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0631.png">"We sneak in unseen, right? Ylva is being very cautious, as am I, and eventually we even manage to steal the keys right from the belt of a sleeping guard!" Her story begins with smooth sailing, but you sense there's more to it than that. "The troubles began when we were heading out. Ylva is further ahead than me, and a guard exits the building to her right. It's in the middle of the night, and dark, but from my position I just know that he's going to see her at any moment. And Ylva has no idea he's there. She's too far for me to whisper a warning, and so I just act on instinct. I say out loud: 'Good evening man, is Lars on guard-duty tonight?'" You stare at Astrid, and Erika is laughing. "He looks in my direction, confused, and Ylva hides behind a bench in a flash. But now the guard is coming straight toward me, raising his lantern. I'm out of ideas, so I just stand there, trying to look like I belong there..." She lets out a sigh. "I can see that Ylva is ready to pounce on him at any moment. Then the guard is right in front me... He says: 'Sorry miss, his shift literally just ended. If you sprint straight south following the Black Cat's Street you should be able to catch him.'" Astrid is looking embarrassed. Erika is barking with laughter. You can't help but smile at the absurdity of the situation. "Then I just say thanks dude and walk in the direction he pointed. He even calls out: 'Have a good night, miss!' as I walk away. Ylva somehow managed to slip out of there too as she joins me after a while..." Astrid is shaking her head. "Out of all the names you could've said..." Erika says, laughing so hard she's getting tears in her eyes. Astrid is blushing crimson. Her grand moment. [[Tell her that was some impressively quick thinking.]] [[Tell her she was incredibly lucky and should be more careful.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_harsh_toward_astrid to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0633.png">"Impressively quick thinking, Astrid. And bold. I don't think I would've chosen that approach!" you tell your friend, a big smile on your lips as you squeeze her shoulder with encouragement. She blushes crimson at your words. "You have bigger balls than Ebbe, Astrid!" Erika says, laughing. "It's... Quite the pair, isn't it?" Astrid managed to say, and all three of you burst into laughter. You can tell from the look on Astrid's face that she needed to hear a compliment from you, and Erika nods to you in approval. Soon, Erika brings the conversation back to other topics in a flash and before you know it you're all laughing and drinking, having a great time. Ebbe's spiced honey and tar mead truly is special, isn't it? ... After a while you excuse yourself and head back up to the attic where the rest of the gang is gathered. It's significantly warmer up here, which isn't surprising given the number of whale oil radiators your gang has managed to get their hands on. Your gaze slowly travels across the gathered gang in the attic as you thoughtfully drink your spiced mead. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_einar is false>>[[Join Einar and Kerr for a moment.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_harsh_toward_astrid to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0632.png">"Fucking hell Astrid... You're lucky to be alive. Partly Ylva's fault for being careless, but that could've ended badly..." you tell her, giving her your honest opinion. She seems to shrink, and Erika's stops laughing. "I know. My father said the same. It's as I said... It's not really worth celebrating." Her voice trails off. "Come on, Taru. That was a bit harsh..." Erika whispers in your ear. She's right, of course, but still... "Look... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to diminish your quick thinking. You just... You need to be more careful in the future, alright?" You add, trying to mend the rift. Erika seems to approve of your apology, and Astrid waves her hand. "Don't worry, I actually agree with you." She says. Things have turned sour for a moment, but Erika brings the conversation back to lighter topics in a flash and soon you're all laughing again and drinking, having a great time. Ebbe's spiced honey and tar mead truly is special, isn't it? ... After a while you excuse yourself and head back up to the attic where the rest of the gang is gathered. It's significantly warmer up here, which isn't surprising given the number of whale oil radiators your gang has managed to get their hands on. Your gaze slowly travels across the gathered gang in the attic as you thoughtfully drink your spiced mead. <<if $ch6_attic_talk_einar is false>>[[Join Einar and Kerr for a moment.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_ebbe is false>>[[Play some cards with Ebbe and the young ones.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_attic_talk_arne is false>>[[Discuss the heist with Ylva and Arne.]]<</if>> [[Retire for the night - you've mingled enough this evening.|end of party]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_follow_arne_and_ylva to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0636.png">Her face lights up. "Hurry!" she whispers, then rushes after Ylva and Arne. Disoriented, you get up and as quickly and quietly as possible grab your winter coat and climbing gear. Who knows if they'll be needed? Then you silently leave the attic and the sleeping gang behind as you slide down the ladder, following Erika. So, an unknown nocturnal mission? Ylva and Arne did not choose to go over the rooftops on this one, curious detail indeed. Nor did they mention this to anyone, according to Erika at least. Well, you'll soon find out, won't you? You reach the street level, and the horses in their stalls lift their curious heads when you rush past them, following Erika. Outside, you can see a discreet arrow drawn in the snow by her, pointing you to the street on your right. You shake your head and yawn, trying to shake off the sleep. [[Follow Erika.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_follow_arne_and_ylva to false>> <<set $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">The look on her face is one of great disappointment, but also a bit of embarrassment. "I know, that's why I... Nevermind. You're right. Good night Taru..." she whispers, defeat. Without a word, she sneaks soundlessly back to her sleeping bag. That's why she what...? Your sleepy brain is too confused to understand what's going on, so you just grunt and shut your eyes again. Hopefully your sleep won't be interrupted this time... <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>>[[You fall asleep...|nightmare transition]]<<else>>[[The next morning...]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0652.png">Yesterday's party has taken its toll on the gang members, who all sleep until lunchtime. When you stumble into the attic you can only see the young ones Hulda and Balder, sitting alone around the large massive table, eating porridge. "Good morning, sleepy head! Eat your porridge!" Hulda says, pointing to the massive pot in the middle. "You made breakfast?" You ask, astonished. The young teenager looks offended. "Of course I did! I'm the best cook in this whole gang, and I'm insulted by your question!" But she smiles, clearly unable to stay mad at you for long. With a sigh, you accept the bowl of porridge and join the two at the table. ... Eventually, the rest of the gang wakes up, groaning with headaches. This is clearly going to be an unproductive day. You nod good morning to Erika and Einar when they join the table, both looking miserable. Your thoughts are interrupted when a loud yawn echoes in the attic. It's Ebbe, who wastes no time walking over to the barrel of mead, pouring himself a morning tankard. "The best cure for a hangover is a fresh mug!" Ebbe says with a beaming smile. <<if $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome is true>>[[The gang doesn't get much done today, and soon it's already evening...|jeff evening path]]<<else>><<if $ch6_date_einar is true>>[[The gang doesn't get much done today, and soon it's already evening...|einar evening path]]<<else>>[[The day is uneventful, and that's the last you remember...|nightmare transition]]<</if>><</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0637.png">You sprint as fast as you can and catch up with her in no time. She's leaning against the wall in a crossroads, her eyes pinned on the road leading north. "There they are." she whispers, pointing. Indeed, the unmistakable silhouette of Ylva and Arne is ahead. You squint your eyes, confused at what you're seeing. "Wait, are they..." you begin. "Holding hands? Indeed! I knew something was up between those two!" Erika says, triumph in her voice. Like a real detective and all. "Well, there's your answer. They're on a nightly private stroll. Good for them." you announce, about to head back to the warmth of your bed. "Hey, not so fast! We're just getting started. Come on! Where's your sense of adventure?" Erika insists. Up ahead Ylva and Arne are about to turn a corner. You'll need to rush after them if you want to keep up with their trail. [["Fine, let's go!"]] [["Sorry, I've seen all I need to see. Come on, let's head back."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0639.png">You rush up the street together, following in Ylva's and Arne's footsteps. This continues for a few streets until they come to a stop outside a fine-looking establishment. What's even more strange is that Ylva and Arne have put masks on their faces, and are greeted by a big bouncer who also wears a mask. "Are they part of a fucking cult...?" you ask, trying to get a clear look whilst staying out-of-sight. "I'm pretty sure I know what's going on... But I never thought..." Erika says thoughtfully, her voice trailing off. "Thought what?" You ask, demanding answers. But you get none. Ylva and Arne disappear into the massive building. "Well, that's it. No way we're getting past that bouncer." Erika nods. "True - but look at all those massive windows. If we can get up on the rooftop across the street, we'll have a pretty good view inside." She points out, nodding toward the building on the opposite side of the street. "I like how you think." You admit, and the two of you sneak back down a street until you find a perfect way up onto the rooftops, with the help of your grappling hook. Soon, the two of you reach your destination, and you go prone onto the snowy rooftop, hiding in the darkness of the night. [[Observe the strange mansion.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">The look on her face is one of great disappointment, but also a bit of embarrassment. "I know, but I wanted to... Nevermind. You're right. Let's go back..." she whispers, defeat. Without a word, she begins the walk back to the abandoned warehouse. She wanted to what? Your sleepy brain is too confused to understand what's going on. You follow her back, up the ladder and slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes again. Hopefully your sleep won't be interrupted this time... [[The next morning...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0640.png">The establishment is truly that - a mansion. On street level, the bouncer is allowing others inside, all wearing masks to hide their identities. This all feels very shady, but Erika doesn't seem concerned at all. Instead, she scans the windows, which are partially blocked by thick curtains. However, the place is illuminated by a warm orange light from within. It appears to be a cocktail party of sorts, with a ton of people, all wearing masks. But the more you observe, the more confused you become. Some people are wearing fine clothes, while others are wearing disturbingly revealing outfits. You gasp when you see a naked man wearing a collar, being led by the leash across the room for all to see. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>This is beginning to remind you a bit of Erika and Jeff's fun that night at the Donkey's Drum Inn...<</if>> "I knew it! They're in a BDSM club! By the Gods we have some kinky gang leaders, eh?" She whispers, laughing, poking you in the side with her elbow. Well, that explains a lot. So not a cult, then... "Wait, how did you know?" you ask, curious, glancing at Erika who's lying on her stomach on the snowy rooftop to your left. "The way they look at each-other. The way they talk. The things they say. It's subtle, but there's something of a dom-sub thing going on between Ylva and Arne." She says, smiling innocently. "I'm not an expert, of course..." She adds, a devious smile on her face. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>Suddenly you're reminded of what you saw at the inn, with her and Jeff... Not an expert? Yeah, right!<</if>> "Look! Third window from the left, second floor from the top." She says, pointing. The window is one floor below your vantage point, giving you a perfect view. The massive window reveals a bedroom, well lit, with racks of rope, chains, whips and all sorts of things you don't even know the names of. Two figures have just entered, and when the masks come off you instantly recognize them as Ylva and Arne. [[Observe the leader and co-leader of your gang...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0641.png">You can't help but feel weird spying on Arne, the leader of your gang and Ylva, his second-in-command... "It's Astrid's father we're spying on, Erika... It feels like a private moment that we shouldn't..." Your protests are quickly silenced. "Close your eyes if you don't want to look! I wonder what they're saying..." She says. And so you do. Fine, she can watch if she wants to. "Oh Arne, you look hot tonight, please rip this dress from my sweaty body and ravage me!" Erika says, pretending to be Ylva. "Do I have to shut my ears as well?" You ask, groaning. But Erika is adamant. "I'd rather fully explore and share this hot moment, Taru... Please open your eyes?" Erika asks. But you keep them shut, for now... <<if $ch6_date_einar is true>>"Wait, what about Einar?" you ask, confused why she wants you to watch Ylva and Arne, while you've already planned a date with Einar. "It's just a date, Taru. It's not like you're exclusive, or even a couple yet, right? Relax, enjoy the show." she comments. You find yourself shaking your head at that...<</if>> When it's clear you won't be opening your eyes, Erika continues: "See this collar, Arne? It would look so good on me... Around my neck... And this whip, oh I can't wait for you to punish me. I've been such a bad girl..." Erika moans, trying to guess what Ylva and Arne are saying in their kinky bedroom across the street. Curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak a quick peek at the window. Arne is removing his shirt, while Ylva stands with a black leather collar in one hand and a whip in the other. The kind used to strike horses. "Oh my..." Erika whispers when Arne kneels in front of Ylva, who looks down on him. She presses the whip under his chin, lifting his face up to meet hers. Then she smiles, points, and Arne puts his hands behind his back. Erika and you witness in mute silence as Ylva slips the collar around Arne's neck, firmly securing it in place. [[In mute silence, the two of you observe the kinky couple.]] [[Snap out of it - you've seen enough.|get back]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0642.png">Erika and you lie there on the snowy rooftop, side-by-side, staring at Ylva and Arne from across the street. Ylva is clearly in charge, as she orders Arne down to her feet. He obediently complies, taking off her left shoe, then her right, kissing her shins. She barks an order, and Arne begins to enthusiastically suck her toes, his head bobbing rhythmically from his efforts. While he's busy worshipping her feet, Ylva removes a layer of clothing, towering over Arne. She's wearing a tight black leather corset. She lifts up her foot, puts it on his naked chest and pushes him down to the ground, onto his back. She stands over him and removes her dress, letting it fall on Arne. Ylva is now wearing nothing but her tight corset and matching black thongs, standing over her submissive with handcuffs in one hand and the whip in the other. "I... I want to see where this goes..." Erika whispers. Her breath is growing faster, shallow. Somehow you're unable to stop looking at the private show unfolding across the street... Ylva says something, and Arne tosses her dress to the side. Then, she plants a foot on his chest, pinning him down against the carpet. He lifts his arms up, allowing her to secure the handcuffs on his wrists. Then she lowers herself down on him, caressing his skin with the whip, and grabs the chain of the handcuffs, forcing his hands down onto the carpet above and under his head. The way he's looking at her... It's like he's under a spell, completely enthralled. Ylva forces the handle of the whip into Arne's mouth, who obediently accepts the offering. Ylva is straddling Arne, who's lying there with his hands bound by handcuffs, the linking chain on the floor under his neck. Ylva is saying something, but you cannot read her lips from this distance, and Arne nods. Then she begins to choke him with her left hand, while she reaches under her and down into Arne's pants, gently stroking his... Erika lets out a moan next to you, and you can't help but feel the heat of the moment affecting you. In the bedroom, Ylva is gently stroking Arne's cock while choking him... [[Your cheeks are blushing... Continue watching.]] [[Snap out of it - you've seen enough.|get back]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">"Come on, we've seen enough..." You somehow manage to say, your throat suddenly dry, your voice merely a whisper. When you pull Erika's arm, she reluctantly stands up and the two of you sneak away without a word. Silently, the two of you begin the walk back to the abandoned warehouse. The cold winter breeze, the sound of your boots crunching into half-frozen mud, and the occasional sound of strangers talking are the only things interrupting the silence of the night. It's impossible to get the image of Arne in front of Ylva out of your head, the way he knelt, completely submissive to her... "Why would he want that..." you suddenly ask, not quite wrapping your head around what you saw. Erika glances your way, wrapped tightly in her winter cloak for warmth. "With all that responsibility, being the leader of the gang, it's no wonder he might want to relax every now and then. You know, let go of all responsibilities and just enjoy himself. Letting something else be in charge." Erika explains. Huh. That actually makes sense? "Wait, so it's a sort of stress relief, from the burden of being in command?" you ask. Erika nods. "Kind of, yeah. But you know, he might just like that stuff too, and we're just over-analyzing this whole thing..." she admits. Fair enough. You shake your head. Never in a million years did you expect to see Ylva and Arne at a BDSM club... The rest of the way back to the abandoned warehouse is uneventful. Finally, in the safety of the attic, you slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes. But you can't help but see Arne on his knees in front of Ylva even with your eyes closed... You doubt you'll get any sleep tonight with such visions haunting you... <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>>[[You fall asleep...|nightmare transition]]<<else>>[[The next morning...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0729.png">Where are you? And more importantly, when are you? You open your eyes. A cold uncaring and hostile darkness surrounds you, as far as the eye can see. Below you, a thick sheet of ice covering a miasma of swirling clouds beneath. Far above you, a black sun, spewing twin jets of darkness into the universe, filling it with poison. What is this place? Is this a dream, or a nightmare? Is this a glimpse into the future, a premonition, or a gaze into the far past? A memory, or something else? Your thoughts are interrupted by a whisper in your ear, but you can see no one. Then the sound of a soft footstep on the ice. Then you see a ghostly shape, blurry, its ephemeral form hiding its true shape. It's a middle-aged foreign-looking man, wearing a highly decorated heavy armor, carrying a brilliant white raven banner in one hand, and a sword in his other. He looks almost like royalty, and carries a weight of importance. Then more ghosts like him join you, all soldiers, rallying around their leader, the standard bearer. A great phantom army surrounds you, swords drawn. In the distance, a ghostly city emerges from the shadows, a massive city by the coast, surrounded by snowy mountains. Familiar, yet not. Your heart tells you that this is Valkama, your city, but the spectral details make the city look twisted, unknown. It looks distinctly different, like you've never seen it before. Taller towers as far as the eye can see, landmarks and buildings you've never seen before... The army advances, sweeping you with it. In an instant, you're in the streets of this alien Valkama, witness to a bloody battle of phantoms. The man carrying the white raven standard rallies his men around him, pushing through the defenses in fury. An overwhelming sensation of determination, of righteousness, washes over you. He is not an invader, here to plunder. He is a liberator, here to see the end of an unknown evil. [[The ghostly army leads you further into the city.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0643.png">Arne is visibly shaking from Ylva's rough treatment, pinned down as he is on the carpet. Even from this distance you can see that Ylva isn't choking him gently - his face is turning red and he really appears to be unable to breathe. Meanwhile she relentlessly teases him, stroking his cock with her other hand. Then she suddenly stops, letting him take a deep coughing breath. She wastes no time sliding down, firmly grabbing hold of his pants and pulling them off, throwing them into the growing pile of discarded clothes. Arne is gasping for air, completely naked, lying on his back on the carpet. "You see the size of that thing...?" Erika whispers, almost like she's afraid they'll hear you. Indeed you do, but your throat is too dry to whisper a reply to her. Arne's rock-hard cock stands in eager salute for the return of his tormentor. And she is far from done. Ylva lowers herself back down on him, spreading her legs, straddling him. She digs her fingers into Arne's chest, grinding herself against his erect cock with her pussy, saying something to him. He's nodding, still gasping for air, as she teases him mercilessly. Then she puts her left hand on Arne's lips, sliding a finger into his mouth. With her other hand she grabs his cock between her legs, stroking it vigorously. From the looks of things she does not allow him to penetrate her as she fucks him with her right hand, forcing her fingers into his mouth with the other. She's shaking her head, and Arne is visibly struggling. Even from this distance you can tell she's saying 'No', a few times, shaking her head. Then Arne cums, his seed bursting into his chest. Ylva smiles, a devious smile, but shakes her head. Arne is in no position to clean up the mess, and Ylva has no intentions of doing it either. Erika is mesmerized, unable to pull her gaze away. Instead, Ylva orders him to stand up, pointing toward a ring that hangs from the ceiling. Obediently, the submissive Arne stumbles to his feet, turning his back to you as he takes his position under the ring. It's a few feet above his head, and Ylva orders him to lift his handcuffed wrists up to the ring. There, she momentarily opens the cuffs on his left wrist, only to put the chain of his handcuffs into the ring and lock them around his wrist again. He has to stand with his hands up above his head now, fully exposed and naked, covered in his semen as his mistress observes him. She grabs the whip, striking it in the air, sending a shiver down your spine... [[You need to see what happens next...]] [[Snap out of it - you've seen enough.|get back]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0644.png">Arne is standing there, hands tied above his head... Then Ylva lashes out, her black leather whip striking his back, leaving a long red mark. He visibly flinches and grabs the chain of his handcuffs in his hands, but he doesn't try to move out of the way. Instead, he obediently stands there, his shoulders slowly relaxing. Ylva's saying something, lifting Arne's chin up. He nods. Your mind is blank, unable to guess what they're saying... The dominatrix returns behind her submissive, striking him again, this time on his ass. Arne flinches, and nods. She strikes again, this time on his back. Arne is spitting, clenching his teeth, holding on to the chains of his handcuffs like his life depended on it... [[Something stops you from looking away...]] [[Tell Erika that you can't watch this....|get back]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0645.png">You cannot look away. The leader of your gang is being treated in a manner you never imagined, and he seems to like it... His willingness to be in this situation has put a spell on you, making it impossible to look away. Erika, you notice, is licking her lips... At the other side of the street in the BDSM club's private bedroom, Ylva is finished with the whip. She brings something from a drawer and turns him around, making him spin, as she admires her naked willing subject. He's smiling when she puts a blindfold on him. Then, satisfied with the way he looks, she walks up behind him and grabs his hands, unlocking his left wrist. He doesn't protest when she pulls the chain from the ceiling ring, releasing him momentarily from his predicament. Then she guides his hands behind his back, and locks the handcuffs again. She gives an order, and he obeys, falling down on his knees once more, naked, blindfolded, collared and with his hands tied behind his back. Ylva pulls down her thongs, then grabs his hair and forcefully pushes his face between her legs. Without hesitation, he begins to eat her pussy like an eager servant. After just a few moments, they stop. Ylva puts a leash on his collar and pulls him toward the bed. She lies down on the edge, spreading her legs, and pulls Arne toward her wet pussy, pulling his collar and digging her hands into his hair as he continues licking and sucking her juicy cunt. Erika and you stare silently as Ylva gasps and spasms on the bed, her servant dutifully fucking her with his mouth and tongue... [[You're getting extremely hot on your clothes from watching this...]] [[Decide this is enough. Erika has had her fun...|get back]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0646.png">Just a tiny bit more... It's like an addiction, watching Arne and Ylva like this... Arne continues sucking his mistress for a while, but it's not enough for her. Suddenly, Ylva pushes Arne from her, and slaps him on the cheek with the palm of her hand. Erika and you gasp, but Arne doesn't move, obedient as he is. Instead he waits for her to return, this time with a new item from the drawer. Is that... Yes, it is. It's two connected black dildos, with leather straps. Ylva stands behind her kneeling servant, and commands him to open his mouth. Without hesitation, he does so, and Ylva effortlessly slides the shorter dildo into his mouth. Then she wraps the leather around his head, firmly securing the straps. The bigger black dildo is now sticking out in front of Arne's mouth, while the smaller is lodged into his throat. "That's deviously delicious..." Erika moans, just as Ylva leads her submissive onto the bed. Arne is blindfolded, gagged, and his hands are tied behind his back, but he dutifully crawls onto the bed and lies down on his back. Ylva has a firm hold of his leash as she joins him in the bed, standing over him, before lowering herself down onto his face. She's facing his legs, and her intentions soon become clear. The black dildo slides into her eager and wet pussy, and then she goes down on all fours, taking Arne's still rock hard cock into her mouth. She thrusts her hips, pinning him down into the bed, fucking him hard. The massive dildo sticking out from his mouth slides into her time and again, and she just increases her pace, slamming into him again and again. The she expertly takes the full length of his penis into her throat, gagging on it. Erika and you witness all of this in mute silence, and you can't help but feel helplessly wet as you witness the rough face-fuck of Arne, and the deepthroating Ylva. They finish, Ylva roaring with delight, and Arne cums for the second time tonight. It feels like they fucked for an eternity, but surely it couldn't have been more than a minute... Erika snaps out of your trance-like state first: "Holy shit... I uhh, think we should get back, before they do..." <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>><<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>[[She's right. Get back to the abandoned warehouse...|jeff invitation]]<<else>>[[She's right. Get back to the abandoned warehouse...]]<</if>><<else>>[[She's right. Get back to the abandoned warehouse...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">"You're right. Let's go..." You somehow manage to say, your throat suddenly dry, your voice merely a whisper. Silently, the two of you begin the walk back to the abandoned warehouse. The cold winter breeze, the sound of your boots crunching into half-frozen mud, and the occasional sound of strangers talking are the only things interrupting the silence of the night. It's impossible to get the image of Arne and Ylva out of your head, the way he was completely submissive to her... "Why would he want that..." you suddenly ask, not quite wrapping your head around what you saw. Erika glances your way, wrapped tightly in her winter cloak for warmth. "With all that responsibility, being the leader of the gang, it's no wonder he might want to relax every now and then. You know, let go of all responsibilities and just enjoy himself. Letting something else be in charge." Erika explains. Huh. That actually makes sense? "Wait, so it's a sort of stress relief, from the burden of being in command?" you ask. Erika nods. "Kind of, yeah. But you know, he might just like that stuff too, and we're just over-analyzing this whole thing..." she admits. Fair enough. You shake your head. Never in a million years did you expect to see Ylva and Arne at a BDSM club... The rest of the way back to the abandoned warehouse is uneventful. Finally, in the safety of the attic, you slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes. But you can't help but see Arne on his knees in front of Ylva even with your eyes closed... You doubt you'll get any sleep tonight with such visions haunting you... <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>>[[You fall asleep...|nightmare transition]]<<else>>[[The next morning...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0647.png">"You're right. Let's go..." You somehow manage to say, your throat suddenly dry, your voice merely a whisper. Silently, the two of you begin the walk back to the abandoned warehouse. The cold winter breeze, the sound of your boots crunching into half-frozen mud, and the occasional sound of strangers talking are the only things interrupting the silence of the night. It's impossible to get the image of Arne and Ylva out of your head, the way he was completely submissive to her... "Why would he want that..." you suddenly ask, not quite wrapping your head around what you saw. Erika glances your way, wrapped tightly in her winter cloak for warmth. "With all that responsibility, being the leader of the gang, it's no wonder he might want to relax every now and then. You know, let go of all responsibilities and just enjoy himself. Letting something else be in charge." Erika explains. Huh. That actually makes sense? "Wait, so it's a sort of stress relief, from the burden of being in command?" you ask. Erika nods. "Kind of, yeah. But you know, he might just like that stuff too, and we're just over-analyzing this whole thing..." she admits. Fair enough. You shake your head. Never in a million years did you expect to see Ylva and Arne at a BDSM club... Erika gets a strange look on her face and asks: "Tell me Taru... Did you like what you saw? Do you think kinky sex like that is... Hot? Interesting?" Her question hangs in the air like a thick uncomfortable smoke. With blushing cheeks, you say... [["I... I suppose so, yeah..."]] [["I can see the uhh... Charm. But no, it's not for me."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0648.png">Your careful admission is met by an encouraging smile from Erika. "Really? Well, good. Because so did I." She smiles, a devious smile like she's up to something. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>Of course, you already know she is a very kinky girl indeed...<</if>> "The reason I asked is because... Well, how do I say this..." She hesitates. "Jeff and I are into that too. With the roles reversed, though." Suddenly you feel awkward, not exactly sure what to say... [["That's... I'm glad for you?"]] <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>[["I uh... I know. I saw you at Donkey's Drum Inn..."]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">Erika shrugs, and offers you an uncertain smile. "For a moment back there I thought you were enjoying the show... I know I did."<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>> Oh, you bet she did... You know for a fact she is a very kinky girl indeed...<</if>> Erika dismisses the topic with a wave of her hand. "Anyway... We don't need to talk about this." She says, suddenly awkward. You nod your head. The image of Ylva and Arne is far too fresh in your memory, making it hard to think of anything else. The rest of the way back to the abandoned warehouse is uneventful. Finally, in the safety of the attic, you slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes. But you can't help but see Arne on his knees in front of Ylva even with your eyes closed... You doubt you'll get any sleep tonight with such visions haunting you... <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>>[[You fall asleep...|nightmare transition]]<<else>>[[The next morning...]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0649.png">Your comment demands further explanation from Erika, and she adds: "It's actually quite thrilling. Getting into the headspace of a sub I mean. It's one of the most freeing feelings I've ever experienced..." She gets a dreamy look for just a moment. "Jeff is dominating you?" you ask<<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>, like you don't already know the answer<</if>>. Erika nods. "Oh, for sure. Can you imagine me as a dom? Hah! No, I love it when Jeff gets a serious look on his face and tells me what to do." She smiles again, but this time you're unsure if she's being serious or not. "You know... I'd love to be watched..." She adds, stunning you into silence. "Watched, when you...?" You finally manage to ask. "Yes, indeed. And on that note... I'd like to propose something. Something I think you'll find quite interesting..." [[She gives you a mischievous smile.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0649.png">For some reason you choose to reveal that you saw them that night. That you know more than you've let on. Erika's eyes grow wide in shock and she blushes. "Taru! That's... You were...?" She struggles to find the words and you simply nod. "I was concerned, alright? Jeff was a stranger, and I just wanted to make sure you were alright... And believe me, it took a moment to figure out everything WAS alright." You reveal, concerned with Erika's reaction. But she suddenly bursts into laughter. "Concerned for my safety? That's considerate, truly. Well. Looks like the cat's been out of the box for a while - Yes, I'm a kinky perv." She shrugs. You didn't mean it like that. "That's not..." You begin, but Erika interrupts you. "But so are you, Taru. It's becoming something of a habit of yours to watch your friends have kinky sex, isn't it?" She says with a provocative smile and a wink. Your cheeks are blushing crimson and your voice gets a higher pitch as you stutter in your defence: "This was your idea! And before, I just wanted to make sure..." "That I was fine, yes. Convenient excuse. I'm kidding! And hey, I don't mind. I love being watched." She says, stunning you into silence. "Watch when you...?" You finally manage to ask. "Yes, indeed. And on that note... I'd like to propose something. Something I think you'll find quite interesting..." [[She gives you a mischievous smile.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0650.png">Your throat is dry as you listen to Erika, walking next to her on the dark snowy streets of Valkama back toward the warehouse attic. "Jeff and I have actually been looking for a plus one. For a one-time thing." She begins. Suddenly, you feel a strange tension. Until now she's been talking freely about this, unbothered, but now you sense that she's struggling to find the words. "Since you liked what you saw, and I trust your discretion on this topic..." She continues. "Fuck it. I'll just ask: Would you like to join Jeff and I tomorrow evening for a crazy night?" Her shoulders visibly relax when she finally manages to ask her question. It feels like someone hit you in the face: Your ears are ringing, and you blink in confusion. Did you hear right? Did you understand her question? She wants you to join her and Jeff, the dark skinned mysterious stranger whom she's been having kinky sex with? "Wait, hang on... Just to clarify... You're asking me if I want to join a kinky BDSM threesome, with you and Jeff?" Just asking the question out loud is absurd, and it feels like the street and the buildings around you are spinning, distorted and blurry. "Yes." Erika simply says, finding her collected and confident self again. She can't stop grinning, seeing your uncomfortable reaction. "I'm sure you have like a million questions. And don't worry - You don't have to decide now. I know this is a lot to dump on someone." She continues. [[Ask her what Jeff thinks of the idea.]] [[You already know your answer - gently say no to her offer.|say no to jeff erika threesome]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0651.png">"What does Jeff think of this? Whose idea was it... A threesome, I mean?" You ask, genuinely curious. "Would you think less of me if I told you it was my idea? Well, turns out Jeff actually liked the idea too. And it was he who suggested you as the third." She reveals. "He... What?" That can't be right. At the inn, he was so dismissive of you, his eyes only on Erika. "Well I... Okay, so... Let's assume I say yes to this crazy idea, then what exactly am I saying yes to?" You ask. You don't want to make a decision without knowing all the details. "Well, nothing as extreme as what Ylva and Arne were doing. That I promise you. Just a light introduction - maybe a bit of spanking, who knows? And you can say no to anything at any time. It's going to be fun, trust me." Erika replies with a confident look on her face. Clearly, her and Jeff have put a lot of thought into this. "If you want, you can just sit on the couch and watch us. I think that'd be hot too... But if you want, you can join me as Jeff's submissive. He likes being in control, and that's non-negotiable." She adds with a serious look on her face, but breaks with a mischievous smile. You clear your throat with an awkward cough as you take it all in, blushing crimson in the process as you picture what that crazy night would entail... [["I'll have to sleep on this..."]] [[You've decided. Gently say no to her offer.|say no to jeff erika threesome]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">"I appreciate the... Offer, I do. But I have to say no." You finally find the courage to say, not daring to take this any further. Erika looks disappointed for a moment, but finally shrugs, and offers you an uncertain smile. "That's alright. Can't blame a girl for asking though?" She gives you a cocky wink and a grin, then dismisses the topic with a wave of her hand. "Anyway... Let's forget we had this conversation, alright?" You nod your head. "What conversation?" you offer with a joking tone, and Erika grins even wider. The rest of the way back to the abandoned warehouse is uneventful. Finally, in the safety of the attic, you slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes. But you can't help but see Arne on his knees in front of Ylva even with your eyes closed... You doubt you'll get any sleep tonight with such visions haunting you... <<if $ch6_date_einar is false>>[[You fall asleep...|nightmare transition]]<<else>>[[The next morning...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0635.png">"I appreciate the... Offer. I need to sleep on this before I decide..." You finally find the courage to say. Erika lights up. "Great! I'll ask again tomorrow. I hope you say yes, for your sake and mine. It's going to be fucking wild, I can promise you that!" She gives you a cocky wink and a grin, then dismisses the topic with a wave of her hand. "Anyway... So Arne and Ylva are fucking, eh?" She says, laughing. You can't help but laugh with her. "And with style..." You add with a grin. The rest of the way back to the abandoned warehouse is uneventful. Finally, in the safety of the attic, you slip into your sleeping bag. Then you grunt and shut your eyes. But sleep doesn't come. Instead, you lie in your bedroll, staring up at the ceiling, thinking of Erika and Jeff, and tomorrow. About what you'll say. It's just too crazy, right? Surely you can't seriously be thinking about joining them in something like that... But then again, why not? Aren't you allowed to have some... Fun? Is it fun though? Really? The more you think about it, the more confused you become. Eventually, you somehow fall asleep, exhausted by your own spiralling thoughts... [[The next morning...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "quirky_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0686.png">Somehow, it's evening before you know it, and none of you have gotten anything done the whole day. Well, except fighting off massive headaches, which should count for something, right? Your dagger need sharpening, and you're in the middle of it when Erika sneaks up on you. She's wearing the same dress as the night at the Donkey's Drum Inn, her hair up in a ponytail. She has a sly smile on her lips. "Given any thought on my... Proposal?" She asks innocently, sitting down next to you. Why are your cheeks blushing at her question? You slide your whetstone across the edge of your dagger a few times, before putting away the kit and blade. "Yes, yes I have..." you reply. Erika is looking at you with her full attention, almost like she's holding her breath in anticipation for your answer... [["How can I refuse an offer like that?"]] [["I'm honored, truly. But I must decline."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to 0>> <<set $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0653.png">Somehow, it's evening before you know it, and none of you have gotten anything done the whole day. Well, except fighting off massive headaches, which should count for something, right? You've spent the afternoon preparing for the date, putting on a light touch of make-up and choosing what to wear. Erika and Astrid have curiously followed your process, and offered their feedback. "I think it's a bit overkill." You tell them, but Astrid shakes her head. "It's perfect!" she retorts. You're wearing a fine, long, dark green dress that hugs your figure. Your hair is put up in a twisted bun with silver clasps keeping the whole thing from unraveling. Around your neck is a matching silver necklace with a small flower pendant, borrowed to you by Erika. Black leather shoes complete your outfit, with silver patterns decorating their sides. "Look. Lingonberry Tavern is a fancy place. Trust me, you need to look the part." Erika reveals, inspecting you from head to toe. She nods in approval. "And hot damn, you do look fantastic, Taru!" Her smile is genuine, and Astrid echoes her sentiment. [[You feel extremely uncomfortable wearing something as fancy as this.|continue prep]] [[You feel beautiful.|continue prep]] [[You're having second thoughts about the date...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0730.png">Their resolve is unbroken as they sweep through the streets, cutting down rank after rank of defenders. The further into the city you push, the more twisted and dark the city becomes. Buildings look corroded, molten. Slimy black tendrils snake their way over the streets, onto and into the buildings, crushing them. Your breath freezes, and frost covers the city all around you. The ghostly defenders are pale, weak and crooked like old men. And still they fight, throwing themselves in front of the advancing army. The man carrying the white raven banner speaks to his men, his armor drenched in the blood of his foes, his sword no longer gleaming with brilliance. Then you see it. Their target, in the center of the city. It looks like a tear in the fabric of reality, a tiny hole of pure darkness, spilling shadows and winds of frost into the city. The floating tear cannot be larger than an inch in width, and a foot in length. But next to it is a massive contraption, towering larger than a building. A mechanical device larger than anything you've ever seen before. A marvel of engineering, yet it fills you with dread. The man with the white raven banner commands his men to advance, straight toward the device, ignoring the rift spilling darkness into the world. An old man in fine robes is standing defiantly at the top of the device, and the man with the white raven banner enters into a heated shouting debate with him. You can see the despair on the ghostly standard bearer's face, which turns into anger, and back to despair as he tries to convince the old man of something. But the elder is unconvinced, and in a unified gasp of horror with the ghost army, you witness as the old man on top of the device plunges a dagger into his own chest, then turns the dial on the massive device all the way up. He falls, and in that instant a great tolling can be heard, echoing through the city like a shockwave that sends men flying, crumbling, their broken bodies lifeless. [[The tiny tear becomes a massive maw, swallowing the world...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0731.png">You wake up with a gasp, soaking in sweat, drawing terrified breaths in a fevered panic. An indescribable pain surges through your body, like someone has pulled out all of your organs in a violent manner with rusty hooks. Your skin is burning, and yet it's ice-cold... Your shaking hands reveal blackened fingertips, a clear sign of frostbite. A disoriented look around you reveals that you're in the brewery's attic, your temporary hideout. But something isn't right. The wooden floor around you is covered in a black slime that has frozen solid, thickest closest to you, forming a clear circle around your blanket. Black tendrils have snaked their way from your bedroll across the floor, wrapping themselves around the legs of the chairs, hugging crates and barrels, all frozen into rigid statues. With disgust and terror in your veins, you jump up, abandoning the blanket in a flash. You stare in bewilderment at the nightmare that has burst into the attic, comprehension finally dawning on you. This is a part of the Abyss, literally bursting through the fabric of reality, lured to the mortal world by your connection to The Fathomless Hunger and the void. The same darkness that you saw in your vision, with the machine and the army... You feel overwhelmed, confused and more thoroughly helpless than you've ever felt before in your life. In a frantic rush, you gather your gear and get dressed. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You wake the woman in a hurry, who prepares to leave in a mute silence. She doesn't seem at all surprised to see the slime and frost covered corner of the attic... "You've seen this before!?" You ask her, your heart still refusing to calm down. The woman nods, a weak and slow nod. Somehow that doesn't make you feel any better. Clearly, Tryton had been messing with the dangerous Fathomless Hunger in quite intimate ways indeed...<</if>> You can feel the presence of the abyss within you, tangible, growing stronger. The nightmare you saw, or vision, or memory, must be connected to the abyss. But how? All you know is that the void has a firm grip of your soul, which is threatening to tear your body apart. A primal force that makes you look like a helpless ant. The old poison is cold and hungry. And impatient. It wants to devour you... All you can do is try to gather yourself and focus on what's ahead. But somehow, it's getting harder every day... [[Gather your thoughts.|Chapter 7 Start]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0687.png">Erika clearly wasn't expecting your answer, looking quite disappointed indeed. "I see... But can I ask why? Is it me or Jeff?" She asks, confused. Now it's your turn to be surprised. [['"Neither! It\'s just... It\'s me, alright?"'|reply erika]] [['"It\'s Jeff... I don\'t want to do something like that with him."'|reply erika]] [['"It\'s you... I don\'t want to do something like that with you."'|reply erika]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0689.png">It's just what she wanted to hear, you can tell, as her face lights up with a wild and excited smile. "Oh wow, we're really doing this!? Fantastic. Come on, no time like the present. Jeff's already waiting for us." She says, jumping up with renewed energy. Her enthusiasm rubs on you and you find yourself actually excited about tonight. And yet, you can't quite wrap your head around what you've agreed to just yet... "Hey, you with me? Taru?" Erika suddenly asks, and you realize you must've sunk deep in your thoughts there for a moment. "Ah, shit. Sorry, yeah I'm with you. Just trying to wrap my head around what I've said yes to." You admit, following her down the ladder into the ground floor of the warehouse. "You haven't agreed to anything yet Taru. You can say no to anything at any time, alright? We're going to have some fun, and we want to make sure you're comfortable. Besides, I have a hunch you're going to love it." She says, a knowing smile on her lips. "Fine, alright. But hey.. What's this so-called 'means of traveling conveniently' that you mentioned? There's no way we'll arrive at the aristocratic district today..." You ask while the two of you leave the warehouse and enter the cold evening streets of Valkama. "You'll have to wait and see." She says, and the look she gives you is filled with satisfaction of having a secret you don't know. "Oh come on, you've got to at least drop a hint!" You insist as you cross the streets and continue down an alley. "Alright. It involves a mirror. And some sort of magical reflection thing... I honestly don't know how it works..." She shrugs. "A mirror? You're pulling my leg, right?" You can't believe what you're hearing. "You'll see soon enough, ye of little faith." She says, laughing, and increases her pace. [[Follow Erika.|follow to jeff]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0688.png">You answer truthfully, and she sighs, but visibly relaxes a moment later. "Alright... Sorry for bringing this up. Let's forget all about it, alright? I don't want this to change anything between us, or make things weird, alright?" She says, and you find yourself nodding. "Don't worry, Erika. I hold you in the highest regard. Your kinky adventures don't make me think less of you. The opposite, in fact." you reply, giving her an encouraging wink and a smile. She pats you on the back, then jumps up. "Well, alright! You know where I'm off to... Have a nice evening, Taru!" She says, a deliciously devious smile on her lips as she waves her goodbye. "Have fun. Tell Jeff I said hi." You manage to shout after her, and she holds up her thumb in acknowledgement. Then she's gone, down the ladder, off to see her dom Jeff for a spicy session... You shake your head, trying to dispel the image it conjures in your head. ... The memory fades. The attic disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0690.png">A few streets later, the two of you arrive at an ordinary run-down wooden building, which looks just like all the others. Erika takes out a key from her cloak, and with a rusty click opens the door. So far, you're far from impressed by what you're seeing, as the two of you enter the pitch black interior of the seemingly abandoned residence. "You sure about this, Erika...?" you ask, glancing around the room. Broken furniture is scattered haphazardly in all rooms, and a thick layer of dust and cobweb covers every surface. Erika grabs a torch and lights it with ease. "This is just the beginning of your adventure, Taru. Don't tell me you're scared?" She teases, walking with confidence deeper into the abandoned building. "Scared? No, of course not. Just concerned..." you admit, instinctively grabbing the hilt of your dagger, ready to pull it out at a moment's notice. "Relax. We're here." Erika says, stopping in front of a massive mirror that looks completely out-of-place here. It's shining like it's been recently polished, unlike everything else in the house. "I'm getting a bad feeling about this..." you admit. "Oh come on, Taru. You can't expect Jeff to hide his magical mirrors in obvious places? Think of it as a door to the aristocratic district, alright?" She says, trying her best to put you at ease. Finally, you're beginning to piece together what's going on. "So a magical portal device of some sorts? Only the richest of the rich can afford magic like this..." Your eyes grow wide with the realization. "Wait, you're telling me Jeff is..." Erika interrupts you: "Filthy rich, yes, but I don't see how that's important. To me, he's just an exceptional individual that completes me like no one ever has. I'm glad you're joining us Taru, unless you're having second thoughts?" Your friend looks at you, illuminated only by the torch she holds up high above her head, its light reflecting from the mirror in a myriad of patterns. You glance at the mirror, the back at Erika, who patiently waits for your answer. [["I'm genuinely curious now... Let's do it!"]] [["On second thought, maybe this wasn't the best idea..."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_jeff_and_erika_threesome to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0693.png">"That's the spirit!" Erika says, then hands you the torch. "Alright. Now, this is dead simple really. Just picture the mirror as a doorway, like it isn't solid, and just walk straight through it. That's it." She says, explaining how the mirror works. You can't help but stretch out your hand, touching the surface of the glass. It's solid. "It's solid glass, Erika..." you protest, but she dismisses your concerns with a wave of her hand. "As I said, you need to picture it as a doorway. If you think about it as a mirror, it remains a mirror. I'll go first..." With those final words, she takes a deep breath, then strolls at a brisk pace straight through the glass and... Disappears. Your throat is dry and your heart skips a beat. You stare at the mirror, glancing around the room, behind the mirror... She's truly gone. Fuck... Doorway... Doorway... Doorway... You shake your head, closing your eyes. Somehow it's easier to imagine walking through it when you can't see the mirror. Doorway, doorway, doorway... You're almost chanting the words as you take a few careful steps forward, one at a time. Doorway... A step. Doorway... A step... Then you feel something, a pull, and a sudden sense of weightlessness comes over you. When you open your eyes you see nothing but darkness, and you're falling through it, screaming... [[Darkness consumes you...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_jeff_and_erika_threesome to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0691.png">Erika clearly wasn't expecting your answer, looking quite disappointed indeed. "I see... But can I ask why? Is it me or Jeff?" She asks, confused. Now it's your turn to be surprised. [['"Neither! It\'s just... It\'s me, alright?"'|reply erika 2]] [['"It\'s Jeff... I don\'t want to do something like that with him."'|reply erika 2]] [['"It\'s you... I don\'t want to do something like that with you."'|reply erika 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0692.png">You answer truthfully, and she sighs, but visibly relaxes a moment later. "Alright... Sorry for bringing this up. Let's forget all about it, alright? I don't want this to change anything between us, or make things weird, alright?" She says, and you find yourself nodding. "Don't worry, Erika. I hold you in the highest regard. Your kinky adventures don't make me think less of you. The opposite, in fact." you reply, giving her an encouraging wink and a smile. She pats you on the back. "Well... You know where I'm off to..." She says, pointing at the mirror behind her, a deliciously devious smile on her lips as she waves her goodbye. "Have fun. Tell Jeff I said hi." You tell her, leaving her and the mirror behind as you make your way back. Soon you're out of the building and on the streets of Valkama once more, heading back to the abandoned warehouse serving as your gang's hideout... ... The memory fades. The streets disappear in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_supernatural">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0694.png">When you come to your senses you're in a small dimly lit room without windows, made entirely of massive blocks of stone. To your dismay, you realize you're bound to a chair, muffled by a cloth in your mouth. A tiny silver lining is that you're fully clothed, but you can't reach your dagger no matter how hard you try. When you glance around the room, you notice Erika is with you, also bound to a chair and gagged. She's awake, and looks exceedingly calm given the circumstances. While you're thrashing against your bindings, she does nothing, merely looking at you and shakes her head. You try to scream, but the cloth in your mouth, tied behind your head keeps you silent. This wasn't the plan! What the hell happened here... Has Jeff decided to turn you in to the authorities, collect the bounty on your heads? Fucking hell, this was a stupid idea indeed... And to top it all off, it's getting ridiculously warm in here with your thick winter clothing and cloaks... The rattle of keys demands your attention, and the only door to your stone cell swings open. There he stands, the mastermind behind all of this, Jeff in the flesh. "Welcome back, my dear Erika. But oh, who's this? Do my eyes deceive me... Taru?" Jeff asks, walking into the room. You're blinking, confused, at Erika and Jeff. Of course, neither of you can answer, since you're gagged into silence. The fact seems to dawn on Jeff. "Oh, right. Sorry about this... Hang on..." He says, apologetically, and removes Erika's gag and bindings. Then he does the same to you, releasing you from your bindings. Your mouth is dry when the cloth is finally removed, and you blink in confusion at Jeff and Erika. "Could someone explain what's going on..." You ask, demanding answers. [[Erika explains.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cozy_lighthearted_fun">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0695.png">"Don't worry Taru, everything is exactly as it's supposed to be. Just an added layer of security." Erika begins. Jeff nods and smiles, but doesn't interject. "Jeff doesn't want people to just accidentally discover his mirrors and invade the privacy of his home. Anyone travelling through them, who aren't him, are magically transferred to this cell, bound and gagged behind a locked door. Just like we were." She explains. It... Actually makes sense, but you give Jeff a suspicious look. "Really? This was your idea? And just how exactly did you set up a complicated spell like this? Are you a master wizard or something?" You cross your arms, pinning him with your gaze. But Jeff simply shrugs. "Guilty as charged. But no, I don't have an ounce of magical potential in me. But I have deep pockets, and an even deeper network of contacts." He gestures at the door. "Why don't we continue this discussion somewhere more comfortable?" Erika nods her head, to you and Jeff both, and on her way out gives him a kiss on the cheek. It looks like she whispers something in his ear, then she leaves the room. Jeff gives you a curious look when you follow Erika, but doesn't say a word. [[Jeff shows you around his mansion.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0696.png">The dimly lit cell is soon replaced by a magnificent display of exotic plants, paintings, statues and thick richly decorated carpets in every room. The exaggerated display of wealth is almost obnoxious, and you know that Arne would be interested in hearing about this wealthy individual with magical portals leading directly to his treasures... But no, you couldn't do that to Erika. You're here as a guest, and both Jeff and Erika have chosen to trust you. "My humble abode." Jeff says as the two of you walk through what can only be described as a lavish palace. You're high above the city, just as Erika described, on the eighth floor. From here, you can see everything: The clearly distinct districts below, the ships in the harbor, and the Inner City Gardens. The city looks beautiful, with snow-covered roofs as far as the eye can see. Except the green gardens, which silently defy the cold weather by somehow staying warm and green all year long. The sun is low in the sky, casting an orange light over Valkama. "Holy shit..." you whisper, taking in the view of the city from a perspective you've never seen before. "I told you. A magnificent view indeed." Erika muses, leaning on your shoulder with a playful smile on her lips. For a moment, the two of you simply stare, drinking in the sight of the beauty of the city. [[Jeff demands your attention.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0697.png">Jeff is standing in a doorway, at the far end of the room. "Wine?" he asks from across the room, an amused look on his face. "Oh absolutely. Taru loves wine!" Erika says before you have time to answer. You do? Erika grabs your arm and practically drags you with her. The two of you finally take off your thick winter clothes, placing them on a hangar in the corridor. Underneath you're wearing the same dresses as the night in the Donkey's Drum Inn: Simple woolen dresses in earthy tones, layered with practical linen aprons and accented by modest bronze brooches and leather belts. Then the two of you join Jeff. The room you enter is a lavish bedroom, and it's massive. A decanter with a dark red wine is waiting on a table, surrounded by a circle of a dozen beautiful glasses. Jeff wastes no time and soon the three of you are sitting comfortably on a deep green sofa, resting your arms and backs on soft silk cushions. "This is much better. Allow me to formally welcome you to my home, Taru. You're most welcome indeed. And Erika, my beautiful pet, how I've longed to see you..." His tone shifts from warm and formal, to seductive when he speaks to Erika. She seems to melt under his gaze, loving his attention. But wait, did he just call her his pet? Erika raises her glass of wine in a toast. "A toast to an unforgettable evening!" She says, her voice quivering with anticipation. "A toast to the alluring company of two stunningly beautiful women!" Jeff adds, raising his glass to meet Erika's. [[Raise your glass in silence.|clink glasses]] [['"To the kinky couple!"'|clink glasses]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0698.png">Your glasses connect, sending a high-pitched clinking sound echoing in the bedroom. Erika laughs nervously, while Jeff has a cool and collected look on his face. His dark ebony skin is gleaming with untold mysteries in the orange light of the evening sun, which is filling the room with its glow from the massive window at the far end of the room. For a moment, the three of you enjoy the taste of the wine. You didn't know what to expect, but it's the best wine you've ever had in your life. "So, Jeff. You're secretly a filthy rich noble, I assume?" you find yourself asking, suddenly feeling bold. Erika chokes on her wine and coughs, giving you a warning glare. But Jeff merely tilts his head from one side to the other, like he's mentally judging what to tell you. "You could say that, sure. I'm Jeff Ariht von Paarteroihu, at your service." he finally says, bowing his head just an inch, while keeping his eyes firmly locked on yours. "Taru 'Bolt' Nopsa." you reply, holding out your hand. He grabs it with his smooth and warm hand, shaking it firmly. "How good of us to finally properly introduce ourselves, Taru Bolt Nopsa." he says, without letting go of your hand. "Likewise, Jeff Ariht von Paarteroihu. Tell me, where does your family's wealth come from?" On your right side, Erika is groaning with embarrassment. But Jeff doesn't seem offended by the question. He finally lets go of your hand, and waves in the general direction of the room. "Since you asked... My family came to Valkama three generations ago, offering a somewhat unique take on mining, one run by steam powered machinery rather than man-power, allowing for safer, faster and deeper mining than had ever seen before. And really, the rest is history." he shrugs. "And this place? Do you live in this fabulous place alone, or...?" Your voice trails off, inviting him to finish your sentence. "This entire floor is mine, yes. You're inside Paarteroihu Tower, in the aristocratic district. Most of my family live here, and we have an office at the bottom floor." Jeff explains. "So your family are... Inventors? Engineers? What's your role in all that?" you ask, whilst Erika tries to hide behind her glass of wine. "An inventor and a pioneer of a new age is how I like to see myself." Jeff humbly boasts. "I imagine a future where steam engines are everywhere. Imagine a stagecoach without horses. Or a dozen interconnected stagecoaches, or carriages, connecting cities at a great distance. Going from Dreamworks Gardens to Phoenix Farm in hours, rather than a fortnight. A top speed far faster than the fastest ice yachts!" The image he paints dazzles you. Ice yachts are common in Jaerwik in the winter, light-weight sailing crafts that glide over the ice, capable of speeds twice as fast as the fastest race horses. "How would something like that even be possible?" you ask, stunned by the absurdity of the claim. But Jeff simply shrugs. "We're ironing out the details as we speak, but have already set up a small pilot program with the concept in the mines. The results are quite promising indeed." He reveals, a confident smile on his lips. "But isn't such a means of travel completely pointless... I mean, you have literal magic mirrors for transportation..." You point out. "Fair question. The magic mirrors are for infrequent use, however, just a few persons each day. The magic is quite unstable, or so I've been told. Something about the rift or crystals or whatever. No, my proposal is a means for everyone to travel faster..." [[Erika interrupts your discussion.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0699.png">"Come on Taru, let's not be rude. It sounds like you're interrogating him." Erika says with a nervous laugh. But Jeff waves her concerns away. "My sweetest, I assure you that no offense was taken. I must admit that I do enjoy talking about my work..." He leans over and places a soft kiss on her cheek. "But not as much as I enjoy looking at you." His eyes confirm his words, as he seems completely absorbed by Erika, looking deep into her eyes. Her breath grows faster under his gaze, and she playfully bites her lip... Jeff turns his attention to you again. "I've heard so much about you, Taru. Your courage, your kind heart. You really seem to look out for your friends?" He asks, but you can't quite tell how much Erika has told him. Does he know you're wanted criminals? Does he know you're a thief, and a blade-for-hire? Probably not. No sane person would invite criminals to their home... "Well, I try my best to keep Astrid and Erika out of trouble. You know how it is." You shrug, simply confirming what he probably already knew. Erika looks bothered though... "No need to be shy about your talents, Taru. Erika has told me all about your clandestine activities... And we're all friends here, right?" He strokes Erika's hair passionately, like he's rewarding her for being a good pup. Well, the cat's out of the bag... "I can neither confirm nor deny anything Erika has said." you simply retort with a dramatic shrug of your shoulders. "Well to me it simply adds a layer of excitement..." Jeff reveals, a vicious smile on his lips. So, he sees you as exotic and interesting because of your profession? Well, that's... Good? [[Erika demands your attention.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_close">> <<set $ch6_join_threesome to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0701.png">"Oh, no. You two go ahead. I'll just sit right here... Watching. Enjoying the view." you reveal. Now it's your turn to smile as you lie down on the couch, with your glass of wine in your hand. This was what Erika suggested, after all. Well, Erika. All eyes are on you, you kinky little exhibitionist. Your challenging gaze meets Jeff's, who glances at Erika with an eyebrow raised in a silent question. She gives him a trembling nod, giving her approval. [[Erika pulls Jeff closer for another kiss.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_thinking2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0725.png">"I'm sorry, Erika, I thought I wanted... I'll just be outside..." You mumble as you scramble to your feet, heading out into the corridor. Your steps take you to the large room with the view over Valkama, where you pace nervously. What were you thinking? This isn't you. You don't just show up at a filthy rich guy's house and start having sex with him and one of your best friends... Fuck... [[Pace around the room.|Leave the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0728.png">"Have fun..." You tell her, waving your goodbye. Door. Door. Door. Not a mirror. Door... You disappear into the world of the mirror, heading back to the gang's hideout... ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0700.png">"Jeff... Remember when we discussed a plus one...?" Erika says, placing her glass on the small round table next to the couch and leans in closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He looks from her to you, and in his gaze you can't help but sense something stirring awake. Like a hunter that has seen its prey, ready to pounce... "How could I forget such an intriguing prospect?" He replies, draining his wine in one go and placing the empty glass next to Erika's. "But I suppose Taru will have the final say in this, doesn't she?" He adds as he wraps his arms around Erika's waist, pulling her closer to him. "Do you understand the dynamics... What's expected of you?" Jeff asks you. And when confronted with such a direct question, you find yourself simply shaking your head. "Well, sort of, yes. But not exactly. I mean I understand the dynamics well enough... But what will we... do?" Your reply comes out fast, almost incoherent. "What happens tonight is for me to know, and for you to discover. You can of course say no at any time, to anything, and I'll stop. But I encourage you to see things through. I'll take good care of both of you and show you the delights of being my submissives. It will involve use of derogatory language, being bound, and eventually... Fucked." He explains in great detail, his sultry voice attempting to tempt you, trying to draw you into this crazy world. You've seen with your own eyes what a kinky couple can get up to. And now that you're sitting here with one such pair, your head is spinning... "Are you ready, Taru...?" Erika asks, then turns her attention to Jeff. From the far end of the couch, you watch as Jeff leans over Erika, almost like he's devouring her. Their lips touch, parting, their tongues playing as they kiss deeply. It goes on for a long while, making you hot and a tiny bit bothered, but you can't help but look. The sound and sight of their kiss has you mesmerized... Jeff is the first to break contact, leaving Erika wanting more as he turns his attention to you once again, holding out his arm in an open invitation. "Come here." He says, almost like a command. One that you can say no to, if you so choose. You glance at Erika, who smiles and releases her hug around Jeff's neck, then shuffles a bit to the side and gives you space to join them... [[Put down your glass of wine and accept the invitation.]] [[Tell them you'd rather watch them.]] [[You're having second thoughts... Excuse yourself.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_close">> <<set $ch6_join_threesome to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0702.png">Jeff's invitation and Erika's excited look convince you, and you shuffle closer until you feel his hand on your shoulder. You and Erika sit side-by-side on the couch in front of Jeff, who stands towering over you. He smiles, a knowing smile, like he knew you couldn't resist. Gently, he places his hand under your chin, lifting your gaze up until your eyes meet. His hand is warm, and his breath smells of wine. He comes closer, his eyes asking a silent question. He looks at you, then at Erika. Erika has put her hand around your waist, pulling herself close to you. She too leans closer, her inviting lips irresistibly close. [[Kiss Jeff.]] [[Kiss Erika.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0706.png">Is it the wine, or the sight in front of you? Who knows, but you're rather enjoying what you're seeing. The dark red liquid in your glass tastes even better as you watch the half-naked couple in front of you. Erika seems to be edged on by your gaze, almost like she's getting impatient. She stands up, and lets her dress fall to the ground. Underneath she's wearing nothing but a black thong and over-the-knee stockings. Your jaw almost drops to the floor. Surely it's the wine's fault? Rather than caressing her, or kissing her ample breasts, Jeff simply walks over to a chest in the far corner of the room. Meanwhile, Erika gives you a sly smile as she takes a few steps toward the fireplace, where its light perfectly illuminates her stunning figure. She begins a slow dance, turning her back to you and Jeff, letting her arms trace her curves, her legs, her stomach. She cups her breasts, the shadows amplifying their size. Her hands ruffle her hair, and she pulls away her ponytail almost like she's embracing her wild side. All this you witness with a dry mouth, which you quench with a mouthful of wine. You even help yourself to a refill, sitting on the couch, mesmerized by what you see. [[Jeff has found what he's looking for in the chest.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_thinking2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0725.png">You suddenly feel uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Erika, I thought I wanted... I'll just be outside..." You mumble as you scramble to your feet, heading out into the corridor. You leave a half-naked Erika and Jeff in the bedroom, storming out. Your steps take you to the large room with the view over Valkama, where you pace nervously. What were you thinking? This isn't you. You don't just show up at a filthy rich guy's house and start having sex with him and one of your best friends... Fuck... [[Pace around the room.|Leave the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0727.png">You're so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even notice Erika following you. "Taru, are you alright? Sorry if I... If we came on a little strong. That wasn't the intention..." She says, looking truly remorseful. She's crossing her arms in a tight hug around herself, like she's trying to protect herself from your disapproval or anger. "You don't have to apologize, Erika. It's just me, alright? I thought I was ready for something... Like that... But I'm not. It's just not who I am." You explain, and slowly you can see Erika's smile creeping back. "It's alright, Taru. It's a lot to process, I know. And it's not for everyone... Don't worry about it. I'll show you back, alright?" She says, leading you through the corridor. On the way, you grab your winter clothes, and then follow her to a small room with a dozen mirrors, just like the one in the dusty abandoned building. Above each mirror is a sign. "Holy shit.." your eyes dart from mirror to mirror. "Harbor", "Garden", "Church", "Mines"... The signs above the mirrors lead to a dozen different places across the city. "Pretty impressive, right? And look here..." She says, pointing to the third mirror from the right. The sign above it says "Erika". "He named one of these after you? That's..." You can't believe it. Under all that hard exterior is a man who truly seems to be smitten by your friend. "Well it used to say "Industrial D". I much prefer it this way." She admits with a smile. You begin to wonder... "Erika... Are you considering leaving the gang behind and stepping up in the world? Looks quite cozy here." Your question seems to take Erika by surprise, who looks at you with a shocked expression. "Taru, that's... Absurd! I would never abandon my family and friends." Then she adds with a whisper. "But it doesn't hurt to have a back-up plan either." She says with a wink and a smile. Mmhm. Clever girl. "That's what I wanted to hear." you retort, squeezing her shoulder. "Right, well. Same procedure as before. Just think of a door and walk right through. I hope you don't feel like I'm abandoning you, but I'll stay behind... You know..." She shrugs innocently. "You go girl!" You offer with a smile, before turning your attention to the mirror. [[Walk through the mirror.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0707.png">Jeff brings out a wooden paddle of some description, a belt and a blindfold. When he approaches Erika, she stops her sensual dance, obediently standing in front of him. "Do not be alarmed, Taru. Your friend knows her place, and wants nothing but to please me. Tell her, my pet." Jeff says, his voice deep and collected, affirming the truth in his words. Erika nods, hands behind her back, her breasts bouncing as she does so. "My master is right. I live only to serve him. To please him." She says, like a well-trained slut. <<if $ch2_witness_BDSM is true>>The dynamic from the Donkey's Drum Inn is back, just like that. Your friend is gone, and the obedient horny and kinky girl you saw through the keyhole has emerged.<<else>>It's one thing to see Ylva and Arne at a distance... But hearing and seeing this from your friend is something else entirely...<</if>> Jeff walks behind her with an approving nod, puts his equipment to the side for a moment and brings up the blindfold. "A submissive should trust her dom, and thus has no need for her eyes..." Jeff whispers, barely loud enough for you to hear. Erika doesn't protest when Jeff wraps the blindfold over her eyes, binding it tight behind the back of her head. She's biting her lip in anticipation. "Bend over, whore. Let our guest see you. Admire you." Jeff instructs, forcing her to lean over a small table with her back turned to you. She whimpers, but doesn't put up a fight when her breasts lie flat on the wooden table, her hands still behind her back. She's forced to bend her knees, just a tiny bit. Her ass looks objectively speaking stunning in those thongs, exposed as it is for all to see. "Spread your legs." Jeff instructs, placing his wooden paddle between her thighs, gently guiding her to open up more. You can hear her breath growing faster, and she obeys him without hesitation. Her legs open up in a wide spread. The thong leaves nothing to the imagination as you see everything from the couch, sitting at the perfect height. <<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>[[You can't wait to see what Jeff does next...]]<<else>>[[Jeff instructs you to join him.|join threesome]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>[[Decide you want to join them after all...|join threesome]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0708.png">Jeff is caressing Erika's buttocks with his hand, gently squeezing. She lets out the softest of moans in anticipation. Then he wields the paddle with ease, circling around Erika until he stands next to her, but still behind her. He caresses her ass with the wood, making her feel comfortable. She obediently keeps her posture. Then Jeff places his hand on the small of her back, making her tremble under his touch. For just a moment, he lets the paddle rest on the skin of her buttocks, the coarse wood silently promising Erika what she wants. Then he aims, pulls the paddle back and smacks into your friend's ass with a loud meaty thud! "Ouhhh... More... Please..." Erika whimpers, but doesn't move a muscle. Her skin is red where he struck her, and you feel a rush of adrenaline shoot through you just from watching the kinky couple's dirty games... "See? No need to look so alarmed, Taru. Your slutty friend loves to be treated like this..." Jeff says, teasing Erika with the paddle again. Then suddenly, without warning, he lifts it up and strikes her. "Aai--ih!" Erika shouts, clearly in pain. You can feel cold sweat forming in your back, but Erika doesn't budge. She remains bent over, exposed, a massive red spot on her ass. "More... Please, Sir..." She whimpers. Your cheeks are blushing crimson at the sight, and the way Erika acts after being spanked. It's like she's reduced to nothing but a primal animal, who loves to be hurt... "Get down on your knees, slut. Hands behind your back." Jeff commands, putting away the paddle and grabbing a coarse length of rope. [[Erika obediently follows his orders.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0714.png"><<if $ch6_join_threesome is true>>Jeff's sudden focus on you stirs you awake, and you place your wine glass down on the table with shaking hands. You stand up, taking a few uncertain steps toward Jeff and Erika.<<else>>Emboldened by the wine, or encouraged by what you see, you suddenly stand up. Jeff raises an eyebrow when you walk over to him and Erika, curiously glancing at your friend's beautifully exposed ass.<</if>> Jeff smiles, offering you the wooden paddle. "Go on. Right here. Give her what she wants." He simply says, caressing Erika's buttocks with his hand, gently squeezing. She lets out the softest of moans in anticipation. [[Accept the paddle and spank Erika.]] [[Refuse the paddle.|jeff spanks Erika]] <<set $ch6_join_threesome to true>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0705.png">Jeff's fingers playfully trace her back, finding their way into her hair, digging deep as he in turn pulls her closer. She fumbles with her hands as she begins to open the buttons on his shirt, one by one, staring from the top. You can see a hunger awaken in Jeff from the way he handles Erika, and in a quick fashion he loosens the straps at the back of her dress. She has managed to unbutton Jeff's shirt, who pulls it off, letting it fall on the ground. His well-defined muscles are perfectly visible on his dark skin, reflecting the light from the fireplace and the evening sun illuminating the room. Erika glances your way, a flustered look on her face, hesitating for just a tiny moment. When you challengingly look her in the eyes and tilt your head, she crumbles. She's loving this! Slowly, she pulls down her dress, letting her naked arms and back tease you. Jeff is patiently towering over her, admiring her beauty. Erika finds the courage to pull down her dress further, revealing her ample breasts. They are perfect, round and soft, and she doesn't attempt to hide them as she continues pulling her dress down. A visible bulge is growing in Jeff's pants as he watches her get undressed for him, and for you. [[Seeing Erika's naked breasts excites you...|proceed strip]] [[Seeing Jeff's poorly concealed bulge excites you...|proceed strip]] [[Seeing both excites you...|proceed strip]] [[You suddenly feel uncomfortable about this whole thing.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0703.png">Jeff's breath smells of delicious wine as you look up, allowing him to slowly descend down on you. His lips are soft against yours, and you feel his exploring tongue entering your mouth, twisting around yours. He tastes like the last day of autumn, an intoxicatingly musky sensation, and the deep rich flavour of the wine. When you gently separate you're shocked to find yourself out-of-breath, your heart pounding in your chest. He licks his lips, almost like he savours every bit of your taste. There's a spark of something fierce in his eyes. This whole time, Erika has been hugging your waist, watching the two of you merely inches away. Gently, she now disengages from you, giving you a bit more space on the couch. You pick up your glass of wine, unable to think a clear thought. Your mind is only on the kiss, but Erika and Jeff are just getting started. [[Erika pulls Jeff closer for a kiss.|Erika pulls Jeff closer for another kiss.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0704.png">Erika's breath smells of delicious wine as you lean closer. Your friend's lips are soft against yours, and you feel her exploring tongue entering your mouth, twisting around yours. She tastes like the first day of spring, a fresh intoxicating sensation, and the deep rich flavour of the wine. When you gently separate you're shocked to find yourself out-of-breath, your heart pounding in your chest. Her cheeks are glowing red, and there's a spark of something fierce in her eyes. Gently, she disengages from you, giving you space on the couch. You pick up your glass of wine, unable to think a clear thought. Your mind is only on the kiss, but Erika is just getting started. [[Erika pulls Jeff closer for a kiss.|Erika pulls Jeff closer for another kiss.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_calm">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0713.png">The stern voice of an older man pierces through the penthouse apartment like an unwanted icy gust of wind on a warm summer's day. Your heart skips a beat and you perk your ears. <<if $ch6_almost_eat_erika is true>>You stay frozen, your face hovering an inch from Erika's pussy. Slowly, you scramble back onto your knees. Erika quickly joins you.<<else>><<if $ch6_join_threesome is true>>Jeff's cock is still deep in your throat. In your blindfolded and bound state, you suddenly feel a heightened sense of vulnerability, realizing that there's not a thing you can do to hide, should someone walk into the bedroom right now. Finally, he pulls his cock out of your mouth with a wet plopping sound...<<else>>You stare at Jeff, then at the blindfolded and bound Erika. Jeff's cock is lodged deep in her throat... Oh the sight they would see, should someone walk into the bedroom right now. Finally, Jeff pulls his cock out of Erika's mouth with a wet plopping sound...<</if>><</if>> "For fucks sake..." Jeff sighs with frustation. <<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>He puts on his clothes on in rush.<<else>>You can hear him putting on his clothes in a rush.<</if>> "I'll be right back..." He explains, then abandons the bedroom in a rush, leaving the two of you alone, and slams the door shut... <<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>You rush over to Erika and remove her blindfold, and in a silent mutual understanding you know the spell of the moment has been broken, and she wants nothing but to escape her bondage. In silence, you help her, but you can hear the conversation from the other side of the closed bedroom door clearly.<</if>> "Sir, you can't just walk in here unannounced. I'm entertaining guests..." Jeff begins. "Jeff, my boy, are you having another board meeting behind my back? Or, heavens forbid, with the investors? This is exactly what I came here to talk about. I've told you a hundred times to drop your juvenile fantasies about a cross-country iron road!" A furious and booming voice retorts. Jeff's father...? <<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>Erika is free from her bondage, and she puts her clothes on in a rush, as quietly as she can.<</if>> "It's a ground-breaking paradigm shift that will revolutionize society. But you're too old-fashioned to see it!" Jeff accusingly replies, his voice carrying loud and clear into the bedroom through the closed door. "Is that your pitch to the investors? My hard-earned clients? Is it your intention to ridicule me, the empire I've built, our legacy? You're acting like a spoiled brat, going behind my back, pushing your own agenda. Branch out and form your own company if you're so bloody passionate about your toy stagecoaches - do not use my company's resources or clients to fund your hobbies." Jeff's father replies, a hint of a threat in his voice. "Is that why you invade the privacy of my apartment? To lecture me, like I'm an imbecile who doesn't understand how the world works? A project like this will forever change the world. It will quite literally never be the same. I'm at the frontier of the future, pioneering a new way of life, and it's not going to be cheap. But the return of investment is projected to be a hundred times more than we put into the iron road and steam stagecoaches over the coming decades..." Jeff retorts, but his father laughs. "Projected by whom? You? Your friend down in finance? You're just two naive inexperienced spoiled childs who've never had to work a hard day in your life, lost in your ideas and dreams, without a touch of reality. No one is going to trust or accept a mechanical steed belching black clouds of smoke, when they have reliable horses that have been a part of society for thousands of years." His father sounds frustrated and angry. But so does Jeff, when he says: "The people don't know what they want until they see it and get to experience it themselves..." But his father interrupts him. "Enough! I came up here to tell you that you've been fired from the executive board. I can't have a rogue going behind my back like you've done, repeatedly, despite my warnings. You may be my flesh and blood, but this is my company, and in my company you earn your place. I'll be expecting you to return your lapel pin tomorrow at the scheduled morning meeting." To this, Jeff has no reply. The silence that follows is louder than any of the words spoken so far. The front door slams shut a short moment later, and Erika and you hold your breaths. A few anxious heartbeats later, you hear Jeff's footsteps approaching the bedroom. [[The door opens with a creak.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0726.png"><<if $ch6_join_threesome is false>>Jeff walks in, a defeated look on his face. Erika and you are sitting on the couch, with your clothes on, silently staring at the broken shell of the Jeff that left the room.<<else>>You can hear Jeff walk in. He walks up to you and wordlessly begins to untie you, removing your blindfolds. The two of you silently put on your clothes.<</if>> Then he slumps down on the bed, staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace. Erika finally finds the courage to walk up to him, while you stay sitting on the couch. They whisper something for a while, Erika clearly trying to make him feel better, but he has retreated into himself. Her efforts do nothing to bring out a smile on his lips, or more than a faint grunt in response. Finally she stands up, plants a kiss on his cheeks and walks up to you. She nods at the door with an apologetic look on her face, and the two of you quietly slip out of the bedroom into the corridor. "Sorry you had to see that, Taru... I'll stay behind and make sure he's alright. Here, I'll show the way out..." Erika says, leading you through the corridor. On the way, you grab your winter clothes, and then follow her to a small room with a dozen mirrors, just like the one in the dusty abandoned building. Above each mirror is a sign. "Holy shit.." your eyes dart from mirror to mirror. "Harbor", "Garden", "Church", "Mines"... The signs above the mirrors lead to a dozen different places across the city. "Yeah, it's impressive, right? And look here..." She says, almost whispering, then points to the third mirror from the right. The sign above it says "Erika". "He named one of these after you? That's..." You can't believe it. Under all that previously hard, now broken, exterior is a man who truly seems to be smitten by your friend. "Well it used to say "Industrial D". I much prefer it this way." She admits with a tired smile. You begin to wonder... "Erika... Are you considering leaving the gang behind and stepping up in the world? Looks quite cozy here." Your question seems to take Erika by surprise, who looks at you with a shocked expression. "Taru, that's... Absurd! I would never abandon my family and friends." She retorts. "Glad to hear. Now go, be with your other friend. He seems to need you." you say with a soft smile, squeezing her shoulder. "Thanks Taru, I will. Now... It's the same procedure as before. Just think of a door and walk right through." She instructs. You turn your attention to the mirror and... [[Walk through the mirror.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0715.png">You're really doing this, aren't you? You can feel the heat of the moment, a quiet trembling anticipation in the air when you accept the wooden paddle. For but a brief moment, yours and Jeff's hands touch as he passes you the paddle. Somehow, your senses seem heightened, picking up on small details like that... Erika is leaning over the table, wearing nothing but her thong and her knee-high stockings, which reveals everything. "You want this...?" you ask her, just to be sure. Your hand is gripping the wooden paddle firmly, your knuckles whitening. Erika whimpers: "I need this... Please, spank my naughty bottom..." She pleads, urging you to go on. You already made up your mind when you accepted the toy from Jeff, and hearing her confirm things pushes you to action. She's right there in front of you, waiting. A step is all you need to position yourself to her side, but still behind her. She obediently keeps her posture. Then you place your hand on the small of her back, making her tremble under your touch. Jeff nods. For just a moment, you let the paddle rest on the skin of her buttocks, the coarse wood silently promising Erika what she wants. Then you aim, pull the paddle back and let it smack into your friend's ass with a loud meaty thud! "Ouhhh..." Erika whimpers, but doesn't move a muscle. Her skin is red where you struck her, and you feel a rush of adrenaline shoot through you. "Are you alright?" you find yourself asking, and Jeff laughs at your question. A warm laugh, mind you, like you're an adorable kitten who's done something funny. Erika whimpers: "That was nothing... I deserve more punishment..." You can't believe what you're hearing. That wasn't enough!? Well, sure, you didn't put a ton of effort into the blow... But still, the sound alone made your ass hurt too! "Perhaps I could demonstrate?" Jeff suggests, holding out his hand. With a trembling hand, you return the fascinating torture device to its proper master, who accepts it with a nod. [[Jeff shows you have it's done.|jeff spanks Erika]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0716.png">Jeff shows you how it's done. He wields the paddle with ease, circling around Erika until he stands next to her, but still behind her. He caresses her ass with the wood, making her feel comfortable. Then suddenly, without warning, he lifts it up and strikes her. "Aai--ih!" Erika shouts, clearly in pain. You can feel cold sweat forming in your back, but Erika doesn't budge. She remains bent over, exposed, a massive red spot on her ass. "More... Please, Sir..." She whimpers. "Your friend will join you now. Strip." Jeff suddenly instructs, his full attention on you. He's commanding you to take off your clothes. Demanding that you lower yourself to Erika's level, exposing yourself to him, becoming his obedient little pet. You knew what you signed up for, and still the stern voice he uses comes as a surprise. It melts away your barriers, forces you to listen. To pay attention. And gives you an urge to do exactly as he says... [[Do as he says. Remove your clothes.]] [[You suddenly feel uncomfortable about this whole thing.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0717.png">From the corner of your eye, you can see Erika stirring, no doubt uncomfortable in her position. But she doesn't move. Jeff is patiently waiting, knowing the effect his command has on you. Knowing that you will do as he wants. And it's about time, isn't it? After all, Jeff is standing here wearing nothing but his pants. And Erika is almost naked. It's time you showed them you're serious. With blushing cheeks you finally find the courage to remove your dress, opening one strap at a time, with no hurry at all. Jeff observes the whole thing as you let it fall over your shoulders. When it's time to reveal your breasts, you hesitate, but when you glance at the almost completely naked Erika, you sigh and let the dress fall. And just like that, you're standing there in nothing but your panties. Instinctively, you cover your breasts with your arm, glancing from Jeff to Erika. The bulge in Jeff's pants is barely contained, his full erection about to burst through the fabric. He seems to interpret your gaze as a question, and answers it by saying: "Your panties too." A reminder. Like it was obvious when he said you should strip, that you should remove every thread of clothing. Your ears are ringing when you kneel down just a tiny bit, just enough so you can pull down your panties. They fall to the ground, and with that done you're standing there, naked. "Good. Such an obedient little plaything you've brought me Erika." Jeff muses. Erika whimpers, still obediently leaning over the table. After all, Jeff hasn't instructed her to move yet. "Get down on your knees, Taru. Where you belong." Jeff commands, his voice serious, but there's a playful smile in his eyes. He's enjoying this immensely, bossing you around, telling you what to do. [[And you love being told what to do. Get down on your knees like the good girl you are.]] [[You suddenly feel uncomfortable about this whole thing.|uncomfy 2]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0718.png">It's like your legs have a will of their own, buckling under you, forcing you to get down on your knees. But that's of course not the case. You willingly, and submissively, get down onto the floor in front of Jeff, glancing up at him. You're acutely aware of your own nakedness, your eyes at just the right height to stare at the bulge in his pants, and on your side Erika's ass. "You've trained your friend well, Erika. My, what a good girl you are. You deserve a reward, don't you think?" He asks, a rhetorical question no doubt, for he takes out another blindfold. "Hands behind your back. Do not move until I instruct you to, understand?" He says, standing towering over you. When you don't reply, he repeats: "Do you understand?" Finally, you find your voice: "I understand..." And suddenly Erika's angry grunt reminds you of something... "...Sir." Just saying it out loud makes the room spin, and Jeff walks up to you with a delighted smile. "Good. You're a fast learner... Hold still..." The black cloth of the blindfold covers your eyes, casting the room into complete darkness. He wraps it around the back of your head, tying it up tightly. Then he janks your hair, pulling you back. You gasp in shock, barely able to keep your balance. "Who's little slut are you?" He asks, his hand firmly gripping your hair, keeping you rooted on your knees. You say... [["I'm your slut, Sir. Your good little slut."]] [["No, wait, stop! I don't like this after all."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_thinking2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0725.png">You suddenly feel very uncomfortable about this... "I'm sorry, I thought I wanted..." You mumble as you scramble to your feet. The spell of the moment is broken, and somehow you see things with clarity. This isn't what you want after all. With your clothes in your arms, you run out, heading into the corridor. You leave a half-naked Erika and Jeff in the bedroom, storming out. Your steps take you to the large room with the view over Valkama. With haste, you put on your clothes. Then you pace nervously around the room. What were you thinking? This isn't you. You don't just show up at a filthy rich guy's house and start having sex with him and one of your best friends... Fuck... [[Pace around the room.|Leave the room.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0719.png">The submissiveness in your voice quivers with horny surrender. You're his, at this moment. He loves to hear it, and you love to say it. The dynamic between you has shifted. He's no longer Jeff, Erika's smoldering friend. He is Jeff, your dom. And you, his sub. You can hear the delight in his voice when he confirms what you just said: "Indeed you are. Actions speak louder than words. Stretch out your arms and press your wrists together, submissive slut." He instructs. Without hesitation, you do as you're told. You stretch out your arms behind your back, as far as you can, firmly keeping your wrists pressed together. You can feel a coarse rope brushing against your skin as Jeff begins to tie your hands together. A split second of clarity washes over you as you sit there kneeling naked in Jeff's bedroom, the room darkened by a blindfold, and a rope already wrapped around your wrists. If you don't struggle now, it will be too late. He's going to have you trapped, bound, unable to protest if he chooses to take advantage of you against your will. An ultimate surrender and show of trust. A thrill that has your heart pounding, your breath quickening, and your mind a cloud of confusion. [[Let him tie your hands...]] [[Pull away and tell him you've had enough.|"No, wait, stop! I don't like this after all."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_thinking2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0725.png">You suddenly feel very uncomfortable about this... Your protest comes out in a blur, and Jeff immediately loosens his grip on your hair. "I'm sorry, I thought I wanted..." You mumble as you scramble to your feet. You throw the blindfold off, then grab your clothes. The spell of the moment is broken, and somehow you see things with clarity. This isn't what you want after all. With your clothes in your arms, you run out, heading into the corridor. You leave a half-naked Erika and Jeff in the bedroom, storming out. Your steps take you to the large room with the view over Valkama. With haste, you put on your clothes. Then you pace nervously around the room. What were you thinking? This isn't you. You don't just show up at a filthy rich guy's house and start having sex with him and one of your best friends... Fuck... [[Pace around the room.|Leave the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0720.png">A sensation of delicious helplessness washes over you as you choose to place your trust in Erika's friend. He hums with delight at your outstretched arms, wrapping the rope a few times around each wrist, creating an intricate pattern of knots. "Taru has just been an exceptionally good girl, Erika. Why don't you join her? Remove your clothes and get down on your knees next to her, hands behind your back." Jeff instructs when he finishes the knots. He lets go of your arms, and a short struggle reveals they're completely immobilized. The room is getting hot, the rope digging into your skin as you sit there on your knees. On your side, you can hear Erika shuffle down onto the floor next to you, your shoulders touching. "Everything ok?" She whispers, breaking the intense moment with a friendly question. You can't believe you find yourself in this bizarre situation, hands tied behind your back, naked next to Erika. Who should be naked now too, if Jeff's instructions are to be believed. You can hear him working his rope on Erika's wrists, a soft sound of rope on skin, and the hard sound of knots being pulled tight. You whisper back... [['"I\'m more than fine..."'|continue threesome scene]] [['"I\'m so fucking horny..."'|continue threesome scene]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0721.png">Your whisper makes her sigh, whimper even. The ropes are all done on her, you can tell, as Jeff's steps reveal he has moved in front of you. "My bound submissives. Why... You're truly a sight to behold." Jeff teases. You can hear him kneeling down in front of Erika. Then her soft moans and a soft wet sound reveals exactly what he's doing. "Already wet? We haven't even started..." He says, finger-fucking your friend. You can hear Erika's breath growing faster, and the sloppy sound of his fingers sliding into her pussy. Her moans are teasing you, stirring something within you, making you fall deeper into a trance-like state as the only sense you can rely on now is your hearing. He's increasing his pace, properly fucking her, and she's barely able to stop herself from screaming. No, wait. Her voice is muffled, like Jeff is blocking her mouth. Suddenly, he stops, and Erika pants in distress, catching deep breaths. "Well she's a horny mess, just waiting for cock. How about you, Taru? Hungry for cock?" Jeff asks, turning his attention once again to you. You can hear him in front of you, his voice far above your head. And on your side, Erika's deep breaths as she recovers. But then you hear the unmistakable sound of a belt clasp being opened, right in front of you. You stare into the darkness of the blindfold. You know what he's doing, even though your mind hasn't fully grasped the significance. The sound of buttons being popped open. Slowly. Deliberately. He's getting closer, you can smell his musky sweat. A final button opens, and you can hear his pants falling down. The smell of sex assaults your senses as Jeff stands in front of you, his fully erect member brushing against your chin, his hands finding your hair. "Open your mouth, slut." He instructs, with only one intention on his mind. Your terrified yet excited breaths are shallow, through your nose, as you hesitate for just a short moment. On your side, Erika has gone completely quiet, her full attention on you and your predicament. You're acutely aware of your friend, of yourself, and of Jeff. Your head is spinning... [[Open your horny mouth for Jeff...]] [[Tell him you want to eat Erika's pussy instead...]] [[No, wait... What are you doing? This is too much...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0722.png">Jeff's cock is throbbing against your lower lip. All you have to do is open your mouth and lean just a tiny bit forward, and you could have him. Taste him. Please him. Your heart is beating like a drum... The moment draws you in... With a soft nudge using the tip of his cock, Jeff parts your lips, and you willingly open your mouth to greet him. The view he must be getting right now... Just thinking about it turns you on as you slowly slide your lips down the length of his shaft. His swollen cock slides into your mouth and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like in your wet pussy. Jeff grunts in appreciation and grabs your hair with his hand, gently tugging and bobbing your head in rhythm with his thrusts. On your side, Erika is whimpering with delight, hearing you sucking Jeff's cock like some kind of desperate whore... [[Continue sucking his cock.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "calm_thinking2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0725.png">You suddenly feel very uncomfortable about this... "Wait... Wait! This isn't..." Your protest comes out in a blur, and Jeff immediately loosens his grip on your hair. "I'm sorry, I thought I wanted..." You mumble as you scramble to your feet. You throw the blindfold off, then grab your clothes. The spell of the moment is broken, and somehow you see things with clarity. This isn't what you want after all. With your clothes in your arms, you run out, heading into the corridor. You leave a half-naked Erika and Jeff in the bedroom, storming out. Your steps take you to the large room with the view over Valkama. With haste, you put on your clothes. Then you pace nervously around the room. What were you thinking? This isn't you. You don't just show up at a filthy rich guy's house and start having sex with him and one of your best friends... Fuck... [[Pace around the room.|Leave the room.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_almost_eat_erika to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0723.png">"That's it. Feels nice, doesn't it? To feel my cock at the back of your throat?" Jeff teases, driving his shaft deeper. You gag, but continue, nose brushing against his pubic hair... Erika is moaning with delight, but you can barely hear her over the sound of your gagging. He's deep-throating you, using your mouth like he would a pussy. And you're loving it, letting him use you as he wants. His hands hold you still as his hips begin to work faster. There's no need for you to do anything at this point. You just have to keep your mouth open, slurping and drooling as his throbbing dick throat-fucks you. Your pussy is getting wetter, you can feel it, but the cock you crave is busy fucking your mouth instead. Moaning and gagging, you let Jeff take full advantage of your throat. He suddenly stops, trembling, cock still lodged deep in your throat, choking you... [[Then you too hear the reason why he stopped.|threesome end]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0709.png">You've forgotten all about the wine as you stare at the couple from the safety of your couch. Erika's looking flustered as she steps up from the table, her legs shaking. "Remove your clothes too. We want to see your pussy." Jeff adds. The room is getting even hotter as Erika, wearing a blindfold, removes the last traces of clothes from her body by pulling off her stockings and letting her thongs fall to the ground. Then she quickly kneels down, hands behind her back, waiting for her dom. Jeff hums with delight at her outstretched arms, wrapping the rope a few times around each wrist, creating an intricate pattern of knots. He's firmly tying her hands, filling the room with a soft sound of rope on skin, and the hard sound of knots being pulled tight. And Erika seems to love it, based on how she bites her lip again... "Who's little slut are you?" He asks, his hand firmly gripping Erika's hair, keeping her rooted on her knees. She whimpers, hands helplessly tied behind her back. "I'm your slut, Sir. Your good little slut." She replies, almost like she's out-of-breath. The submissiveness in her voice quivers with horny surrender. She's fully his, at this moment. He loves to hear it, and she loves to say it. You can hear the delight in his voice when he confirms what she just said: "Indeed you are. Actions speak louder than words. Spread your legs." [[Again, Erika does as she's told without hesitation.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0710.png">She submissively spreads her legs, still in a kneeling position. Then Jeff kneels down in front of Erika, covering her mouth with his left hand, whilst his right hand reaches down between her legs. Soon, she's moaning, and the room is filled with the soft wet sound of his fingers inside of her pussy. "Already wet? We haven't even started..." He says, finger-fucking your friend. You can hear Erika's attempts at drawing breath, but Jeff's hand on her mouth and nose stops her fruitless efforts. Her moans echo in the room, muffled by Jeff. He's increasing his pace, properly fucking her, and she's barely able to stop herself from screaming. She's helplessly bound and finger-fucked by Jeff, whimpering with pleasure. Suddenly, he stops and removes his hand from Erika's mouth. She pants in distress, catching deep breaths. "Well she's a horny mess, just waiting for cock, isn't she? What do you think, Taru? Is she hungry for cock?" Jeff asks, turning his attention once again to you. In front of him, Erika is still taking deep breaths as she recovers. You stare at Erika, then back at Jeff, who's patiently waiting for your answer. You say... [['"Look at her. She would love to suck your cock..."'|Erika sucks cock]] [['"Use her mouth for what it\'s meant for."'|Erika sucks cock]] [['"I suppose we should ask her?"'|Erika sucks cock]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0711.png">Your reply brings a smile to Jeff's face as he opens his belt clasp, then unbuttons his trousers one button at a time. Slowly. Deliberately. He takes a step closer to Erika. A final button opens, and his pants fall down. Jeff stands in front of Erika, his fully erect member brushing against her chin, his hands finding her hair. "Show us what a cock-sucking whore you are, pet." He instructs. Erika's excited breaths are shallow. Jeff's cock is throbbing against her lower lip. All she has to do is open her mouth and lean just a tiny bit forward, and she could have him. Taste him. Please him. Your heart is beating like a drum seeing your friend on her knees in front of Jeff... With a soft nudge using the tip of his cock, Jeff parts her lips, and she willingly opens her mouth to greet him. She's hungry for his penis, slowly sliding her lips down the full length of his shaft. His swollen cock glides into her mouth without resistance. The view is getting you horny... Jeff grunts in appreciation and grabs her hair with his hand, gently tugging and bobbing Erika's head in rhythm with his thrusts. She's whimpering with delight, finally sucking Jeff's cock like some kind of desperate whore... [[Erika continues sucking Jeff's cock.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_almost_eat_erika to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0712.png">"That's it. Feels nice, doesn't it? To feel my cock at the back of your throat?" Jeff teases, driving his shaft deeper. Erika gags, but continues, her nose brushing against his pubic hair... She's moaning with delight, but you can barely hear it over the sound of her gagging. He's throat fucking her, using her mouth like he would a pussy. And she's loving it, letting him use her as he wants. With a flustered look, you witness the face-fucking of your friend, just a few steps away from the couch... Jeff's hands hold her still as his hips begin to work faster. There's no need for Erika to do anything at this point. She just has to keep her mouth open, slurping and drooling as his throbbing dick throat-fucks her. Moaning and gagging, Erika lets Jeff take full advantage of her throat. Then he stops abruptly, trembling, cock still lodged deep in her throat, choking her... [[Then you too hear the reason why he stopped.|threesome end]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0655.png">Your preparations are done, and just in time. Einar walks in, wearing an outfit you never thought you'd see him in. A black stuffy tuxedo. You've never seen him in anything even remotely as formal as that. He looks handsome, but has a slightly uncomfortable look on his face. When he sees you, however, his jaw drops to the floor. "Holy sh... Taru, you look stunning..." He manages to say, quickly shutting his gaping mouth. "Well, I'll be damned. Look at the two of you. The jewels of the underworld. The cream of the crop." Astrid muses, glancing from you to Einar. "Your cloak, miss." Einar says, finding his bearing. He's carrying your thick winter cloak, which he now wraps around your shoulders. A gentleman approach, just as he promised. "Thank you, Mister. I don't know about you, but I'm starving." You reply, giving Erika and Astrid a final nod as a thank you. They wink and smile when you and Einar leave the hideout. Einar grabs his own thick winter cloak on the way out. Soon, the two of you are walking side-by-side in the cold evening streets of Valkama, heading toward Lingonberry Tavern. [[Small talk on your way to the dinner.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0654.png">"Look... I've been doing some thinking. Maybe this date isn't such a good idea..." Your voice is quiet, collected. Now that you're wearing this dress, you're thinking maybe this isn't what you wanted after all. But Erika simply waves your concerns away. "Don't think about it too much. Just go out there, grab something to eat, talk and have fun. You're not getting married. You're just friends who are going to a fancy dinner. That's it." Erika says, trying to cool your nerves. "But also, it's Einar. So your best friend, who really cares for you. So be careful..." Astrid adds. "Thank you for the helpful comment, Astrid." Erika retorts, rolling her eyes. Then she gently puts her hand on your shoulder. "It would be worse to cancel now. Just go there and try to have fun, alright?" Fine. Maybe she's right. "Alright alright. You should be a politician, Erika." You reply sarcastically. She bows her head mockingly, and says: "At your service, miss Nopsa." [[Einar walks in.|continue prep]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "serious_night_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0656.png">There's something strange in the air, an unfamiliar uncertainty that hangs over every word you say as you make your way to the tavern. It's like the formal dress and tuxedo, although hidden by your thick winter cloaks, somehow make you more awkward. More aware of every small thing you say and the way you say them. But it could also be the significance of the evening, the fact that this isn't just two friends going out on a dinner. There's a hope that something more could become of this, to blossom and thrive. But also a fear that whatever you had before might wither and crumble under the weight of it all. Soon, the two of you have left the Industrial District and made your way further north-west, to the southern edges of the University District. There, you see the warm lights of the tavern greeting you, an inviting sign with an assortment of lingonberry leaves painted on a dark wooden surface. Lively music of lutes, harps and drums greets your ears as you come closer. "Ladies first." Einar announces, grabs the door and keeps it open for you. You almost shake your head at the treatment, but decide to smile and accept the gesture. A greeter demands your cloaks and hurries off with them, returning with a small piece of wood with a number. "Give this to me on your way out and I'll find your cloaks. Welcome to Lingonberry Tavern. My colleague will take care of you from here." The greeter explains, ushering you further in. A young man, surely no more than 19 summers, greets you. "Welcome to Lingonberry Tavern. Did you have a reservation?" He asks. Einar is busy with his tuxedo, trying to loosen the tie around his neck, but now snaps out of it. "Yes, a table for two. The name's Ylävirta." he says, giving the man a fake surname. You can never be too careful when you're wanted in all of Valkama, after all. The man looks at his list for a long while, scanning up and down. "I'm sorry, there must be a mistake. I don't see any Ylävirta for tonight..." He begins. "Can you please check again... I visited you personally a while ago to confirm my reservation..." Einar insists, groaning with frustration. The man checks his list again, and shakes his head. "Sorry, there's no reservation with that name. Or anything close to it. But hold on, I'll check if there's room for you..." [[The man disappears further into the tavern.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0657.png">"Ylävirta, eh?" you muse, rolling your eyes at his cover name. He shrugs, a wide smile on his face. "It was the best I could come up with at the time. But it looks like it didn't matter - they lost our reservation. Typical..." The sigh of disappointment tells you he's really devastated by this. A moment later, the man comes back. "We found a table, but it's the last one in the house, but it's in the..." He begins to explain. "We'll take it." Einar's reply cuts the man short in his explanation. "Alright. Well. Excellent, please follow me..." And with a brisk pace, he heads back into the tavern. The two of you follow as quickly as you can, hindered by the constraining dress you're wearing. The table the man shows you is off to the side in a dimly lit corner, far away from the music. A single candle illuminates the table, the only source of light in this corner. Around you are many other tables like yours, filled with people who glance up at you as you walk by. They're wearing common, worn, clothes in stark contrast with your fancy dress and tuxedo. When you glance to the other side of the massive hall, you notice that the area closest to the band is well lit and people are wearing formal attire there, laughing and drinking wine. "Wait, there seems to have been a mistake. We're here for the proper side, not.... This." Einar protests, waving his hand in the general direction of the common folks around you. "As I was trying to say, the only table left in the house is in the common section. We usually try to keep our clientele separated, whilst catering to all walks of life." The man explains. Einar is fuming, clenching his teeth in frustration. He looks like he's about to jump at the man at any moment... You glance around the room, seeing how people are staring at your out-of-place clothing here among the "normal" people. You stand out like a sore thumb. [[Calm Einar and tell him this table is fine.]] [[Tell Einar this is unacceptable and leave the tavern.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "very_calm_neutral">> <<set $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0665.png">"This is clearly not what we came here for. Einar, let's get out of here." You announce, already heading out from the tavern. You can't believe the tavern would offer you such a table, given the effort you've put into your looks. Einar joins you in a rush, grabs your winter cloaks and soon the two of you are out in the snowy streets of Valkama once more. "Sorry about that... This is not how things were supposed to go." Einar says apologetically. The two of you walk side by side, disappointed and frustrated by how the evening turned out. It's like the universe is trying to tell you this was a bad idea. That the two of you shouldn't be trying to go out on dates. That you're incompatible, and even though you two don't know it yourselves, the universe and cosmos does. [[Tell him the date isn't over yet.]] [[Tell him that this date was a mistake.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern to true>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0658.png">"The table is fine, Einar. I'm here for the company, after all." You say, managing to calm him down in an instant. He seems to be caught off-guard by your comment, and clears his throat awkwardly. "Right, great..." He manages to stutter. "Excellent. A waiter will be here shortly to take your order. Here are the menus." The man says, handing you two wooden boards with a hand-written piece of paper. Einar pulls out your chair for you in an appreciated gesture, and then sits down on the opposite side of the table. This part of Lingonberry Tavern is much more dingy than you expected. The tablecloth is dirty, moth-eaten, and the wood underneath looks and feels greasy. The chairs are creaking underneath you, like they're about to break at any time under your weight. The other patrons are still staring, whispering and pointing at the two of you. Your fancy attires are painfully out of place among the throngs of drunkards and misfits of society that surround you. Normally, you'd feel right at home, but tonight you went the extra mile to escape this common filth for just one night. And yet, here you are, back in it. Like the universe is telling you that this is where you belong. [[You glance at the menu in silence.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0666.png"><<if $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern is true>>"You know what I need in this cold? Some hot chocolate. Let's grab a mug?"<<else>>"Hey, just because they fucked up doesn't mean the date is over. Grab a mug of hot chocolate?"<</if>> you ask, your breath fogging in the cold. Einar's face lights up. "That sounds like a brilliant idea! I know just the right place for something like that, even at this hour." Einar replies, urging you to follow him. The two of you quicken your pace, going as fast as your restrictive formal dress allows. A few streets later you arrive at a cozy-looking inn. "I have an idea. Let's grab it to go. Wait right here." Einar suddenly announces, a mischievous look on his face. "Oh? Well, I shall wait right here, then. For my gallant chocolate knight to return." You retort with a smile, crossing your arms and glancing up at the moon. When you glance back, Einar is gone, but you spot a dark shape climbing up the wall of the inn, prying open a window and slipping inside. Typical. You do have the coins to pay for hot chocolate, thanks to Hermes Dirk's generous contribution to the heist's expenses. And still Einar chooses to steal, rather than buy. With a dismissive shrug, you discard the thought. This is, after all, how you typically aquire things for the gang. Paying for something just feels distinctly wrong. Usually. After a while, Einar returns with two wooden mugs, and a large chocolate pot in his hands. He's running, and angry shouts spill into the street from the inn. "Run!" He shouts to you, laughing, with a big grin on his face. For the love of... Instinct kicks in, and you try to turn around and run, but your dress prevents you from taking long steps. Fucking useless piece of... "Come on, this way! Follow me!" Einar shouts, rushing down the street. With angry shapes appearing in the doorway of the inn, you have no choice but to pull up your dress and rush like a madman through the streets, disappearing into the darkness after Einar. [[The two of you rush further through the streets!|Einar leads you further.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0667.png">"Look... Einar..." you begin, unsure how to say this. He perks his ears, giving you his full attention. But the look on his face says it all. He knows what you're about to say. Maybe he even feels the same, but hasn't had the courage to say it? "Going on a date... I think this was a mistake. I hope we both feel the same, now that we actually took the time and find ourselves here. This just feels... Wrong. We're friends, that's it. And I want to keep it that way." Your words feel harsh, and rushed like you want to get them out as quickly as possible, even though you try to say them as calmly and thoughtfully as possible. Einar nods his head and sighs. "Yeah... I could feel it as soon as I put on this tux. Like the clothes were saying to me - 'This is a bad idea. Don't do it. We'll choke you.'" He shakes his head, then smiles. <<if $ch6_enter_lingonberry_tavern is true>>"But I had fun. Nothing's changed between us, I hope?"<<else>>"Well, this is for the best. Nothing's changed between us, I hope?"<</if>> He asks, a mildly concerned look on his face. "Nothing's changed, Einar. Don't worry." Deep inside, you feel this is the right decision. The two of you truly need to stay just friends. But somehow it still hurts. Like being stung by an angry bee. A throbbing pain that leaves you feeling confused. "Einar... Are you sure you're alright with us being just friends? After all, you figuratively speaking poured your heart out to me yesterday... But I just can't reciprocate your feelings." You say after a moment of silence. Einar shakes his head. "Look... It sucks, alright? But I get it. I'm just glad I finally asked you out. Now we can both move on from here, hopefully stronger than ever." He replies, and this time you can sense a genuine smile and relief on his face. Yes, maybe this won't end in disaster after all. Maybe the two of you can brush this aside as an anecdote, and stay friends? "Well, let's head back to the hideout then. Like nothing happened!" Einar announces, almost like he's mentally preparing himself. You whole-heartedly agree. The two of you head back to the gang, already joking and sharing a laugh. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0659.png">Your eyes dart from course to course. At least they gave you the fancy menu, judging by the prices and things on offer. For instance, there's no whale meat anywhere on the menu, which is encouraging. Einar is shifting uncomfortably in his chair, tugging at the collar of his shirt. He tries his best to avoid the stares and whispers of the other patrons. "So... uhm... The daily special sounds interesting? Care to take a gamble?" Einar asks, clearing his throat for the third time. In the menu, it's simply described as a local delicacy, but the two of you have no idea what that means in a place like this. "I don't know... Could be whale meat." You point out, a disgusted look on your face. Einar grins. "No... Surely they wouldn't! That stuff's disgusting, cheap and everywhere. Sure, it's local. But it's not a delicacy!" He laughs, bringing a well earned speck of cheer into the thus far bumpy evening. "Fine, let's gamble. Daily special it is!" What could possibly go wrong? Soon, a waiter arrives, and takes your order. Einar makes sure to order a bottle of wine while he's at it. He glances around the room. "If it weren't for this damned tux, I'd be feeling right at home." Einar comments, nodding in the direction of the other patrons. After a moment's consideration, you say... [["I'd rather be at the fancy side."]] [["Tell me about it. We'd blend right in!"]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0661.png">There's a tiny hint of something in Einar's look when you say that. Something that you can't quite put your finger on. But he's quick to smile. "Next time, for sure." He insists. "Not that I'm saying there necessarily will be a next time... I just... You know..." He mumbles, clearing his throat again. The waiter returns, with a bottle of wine, four glasses and a pitcher of water. Then she retreats back into the kitchen. Einar pours a generous amount of wine into your glasses. "To old friends trying something new." He says, bringing a smile to your lips. "I'll toast to that." Your glasses clink together. [[Taste the wine.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0660.png">The smile on Einar's face is warm, putting you at ease. The waiter returns, with a bottle of wine, four glasses and a pitcher of water. Then she retreats back into the kitchen. Einar pours a generous amount of wine into your glasses. "To old friends trying something new." He says, bringing a smile to your lips. "I'll toast to that." Your glasses clink together. [[Taste the wine.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0662.png">Einar lifts his glass, giving you a mischievous grin before taking a sip. You do the same. As soon as the wine hits your tongue, your eyes go wide, and you nearly choke. On the opposite side of the table, Einar is in a similar predicament. "By the gods, Taru, I think they've bottled regret and called it wine!" He manages to say, a deep frown on his face. "Regret would at least have some flavor. This tastes like old boots soaked in vinegar." Einar laughs, still wincing. "I think I lost feeling in my tongue. Is that normal?" You lean closer, smirking. "Only if you're trying to numb yourself to the company you keep." Einar chuckles, shaking his head. "Now that's something I would call regret. Numbing myself and thus robbing myself of your delightful company... Actually, regret wouldn't even begin to explain the depths of my despair." He sighs dramatically. Tentatively, you take another sip of the wine. Not even a sadistic chef could conjure up a worse concoction than this. "It must be spoiled. This can't possibly be what it's supposed to taste like." You suggest. Just then the waiter returns with your food. "Excuse me, could we get another bottle of wine? This seems to have gone... Foul." Einar explains. The waiter places the food in front of you and glances at the two of you like you're mad, but sighs and grabs the bottle, rushing back into the kitchen. Einar pokes at the dish in front of him with his fork. The greasy slab of meat looks like it might still be moving. "What exactly is this? I can't tell if it's supposed to be food or an experiment gone wrong." There's real concern in his voice. "It's roast eel in garlic sludge, I believe." You offer, taking a careful first bite. Well who would've thought? "Don't let the look deceive you. It's actually good!" You exclaim, genuinely surprised. Encouraged by your example, Einar takes a bite, and nods in approval. "I'll be damned. They know what they're doing!" Just then the waiter returns, with another bottle of wine. She slams it on the table and rushes back to the kitchen, without saying a word. "What's her problem?" Einar muses, pouring the two of you a fresh glass of wine. [[Give the new wine a try.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0663.png">Much better indeed! "Now that's the stuff." You muse, discreetly tilting your head toward a grizzled old man in the corner of the dimly lit section, who's been glaring at you for a while. "By the way, did you notice that the old codger is hiding a dagger under the table?" You tell Einar with a whisper. "What!?" He almost chokes on his wine. "Holy shit, you're right." Einar whispers back, pretending he wasn't looking in the old man's direction. "That's just what this night needed... Do you think he's after us, our bounty? Surely he doesn't recognize us in these clothes..." Einar mutters. "Sometimes I feel I've had enough daggers for a lifetime..." He adds. You can't help but roll your eyes. "I don't know... We stand out fairly well right now. But no, I seriously doubt he's after our bounty. For one, he's old enough to be Ebbe's great-grand father. And he's been less interested in looking at us than most other patrons around here, almost like his attention is on something - or someone - else." You conclude, taking another sip of the excellent wine. Einar visibly relaxed. "Well, I do hope you're right. But speaking of old codgers... I ran into old Thomas on our trip to Hermes Dirk's meeting." He pauses for a sip of wine. "Really? What's that shrivelled old lunatic up to these days?" You ask, mildly curious. "Well, he's moving... Up is the wrong word here. He's moving sideways in the world. Branching off into a new business, but just as poorly thought out as before." Einar reveals. "Truly? So he's no longer stealing from this sworn enemy, the Merchant's Guild?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "You'll never believe this, but Thomas is actually a baker." Well, that you did not expect! "What!? The fucker is a BAKER? Is he trying to kill all of Valkama?" Of all the things you assumed the old man could be up to, baking was not one of them. Einar shrugs innocently. "I was just as surprised as you are." You grimace into your wine, remembering the details of a heist you did for old Thomas. "Remember the job we did for him, stealing the Merchant Guild's crest?" But Einar has an embarrassed look on his face. "Oh gods... I knew you'd bring that up as soon as I mentioned old Thomas." He massages his forehead. "Not your finest moment, falling into a rain barrel on your way up to the roof, then rolling uncontrollably down the street straight into a group of guards." You smile at the memory, vividly recalling how you witnessed the surreal events from the safety of the rooftops. Einar is blushing crimson. "I thought we agreed to never talk about this..." But he's smiling, and sighs. "I had to convince the guards I was a drunken dockworker. And they believed me!" Einar laughs into his glass of wine, draining its contents in one go, then pours the two of you some more wine. [[The evening continues with light conversation.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "very_calm_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0664.png">Time flies by as the two of you discuss various things, feeling at ease in each-others company. But you can't help but feel like it's just two friends sharing a meal. Nothing more. Neither of you have the courage or interest to approach the subject that brought you here in the first place. Instead, you fall into a familiar routine of banter, laughing and discussing everything that comes to your mind. Except what you probably should discuss. Many times during the evening, you wonder why he isn't talking about the date, and his interest in you. And you wonder why you don't bring it up either. Maybe both of you are nervous? Anxious to ruin this friendship by pushing things too far, to a point of no return. Or maybe he's having second thoughts? Or is it you? The light conversation with Einar keeps you distracted from the raging sea of thoughts that has been conjured in your head. An hour later, Einar pays for the service and fetches your thick cloaks. Then the two of you head back out into the cold snowy streets of Valkama. "Well. That was the most fun date I've had." Einar says as soon as you leave Lingonberry Tavern. The two of you walk side by side. "It was fun, for sure. Definitely improved toward the end." You add, nodding. Silence fills the night after your statement. The end. You glance over, trying to guess what Einar is thinking. What exactly are you feeling right now? After a moment's contemplation, you... [[Tell him the date isn't over yet.]] [[Tell him that this date was a mistake.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0668.png">The two of you escape the angry shouting voices easily, disappearing into the labyrinths that make up the streets of Valkama. Out of breath, the two of you eventually slow down, but Einar leads you further still. He's a man with a plan, or so Einar seems in the moment as he leads you further east, toward the harbor. The streets are mostly empty at this hour, and it would be dark if not for the snow and the bright light of the moon. "You know... I don't know why I'm thinking about this now... But I need to confess something." Einar says, his tone suddenly serious. What's this now? The crunch of snow under your boots fills the silence between you until you nod, glancing at him. "Remember the game of dice we played with the gang, a few weeks ago?" He asks. Well, yeah. You lost every fucking roll. "How could I forget? I lost round after round, had to drink so much I almost passed out! Wait..." Confess, he said. You eye him suspiciously, and the apologetic smile on his face tells it all. "Yeah... I may have swapped your dice to loaded ones. I really thought you would suspect something!" He shrugs dramatically with the pot of hot chocolate in one hand and the two mugs in his other. "Ha! Fuck me. Can't believe you'd do something like that... I had a headache for two days after that! Two full days bitching about my poor head. And all because of you!" Out of all the pranks Einar has pulled over the years... Well, actually, this was pretty tame. Nowhere near as bad as the time he swapped your grappling hook to a faulty one, sending you plummeting into frigid water while crossing a canal. Einar laughs, but there's real remorse in his voice when he asks: "Will you forgive me? In hindsight, I think it was my way of trying to tell you I liked you?" He shakes his head. After a moment's consideration, you tell him... [[It's forgiven and forgotten.]] [[It's hard to forgive something like that.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0670.png">Your comment is met with an uncertain smile, and for just a moment a tiny hint of pride. "Bah, must be the tux I'm wearing. Not that you can see it under the cloak, but... Anyway..." Einar says, his voice trailing off as he gazes at the moon, then back at you. "You know, it could just be the moonlight or something, but you look different. In a good way. One might say radiant, even." Einar says, clearly testing the waters with a compliment of his own. [[Blushing slightly, you reply with a short: "Thank you..."]] [[Dismiss his compliment with a wave of your hand.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0670.png">Your question is met with an amused smile. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." Einar says with a wink. "Fine! But it better be somewhere warm. The cold is killing me..." "Oh it is, no worries. You know, it could just be the moonlight or something, but you look different. In a good way. One might say radiant, even." Einar says, clearly testing the waters with a compliment. [[Blushing slightly, you reply with a short: "Thank you..."]] [[Dismiss his compliment with a wave of your hand.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0669.png">Einar smiles with relief. "That's good to hear. Know that I'm sorry for pulling a prank like that." The two of you walk closer to the harbor. Well, while you're sharing things... "You know... I've got to tell you something. You're in the habit of fidgeting, just a little bit, when you're nervous. In fact, you're doing it right now." You reveal. "Wait, what? Since when? Ohh..." He looks at his fingers, which just moments ago were rapidly tapping into the side of the mugs in his hand. "I'll be damned..." Einar mutters under his breath, blushing in the pale moonlight. "I didn't mean to offend you. Simply pointing out a quirk I've noticed, is all." You innocently proclaim, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Can't believe no one's told me..." Einar still mutters under his breath. "You know what else I've noticed?" you ask, gaining his full attention once more. "No, what's that?" He asks when you teasingly draw it out, letting him wait in agony for just a few more seconds... [["That you've grown more handsome since the last time I really looked at you."]] [["That you haven't told me where we're going."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0669.png">Einar looks truly remorseful. "I don't know what I was thinking at the time. Know that I'm sorry for pulling a prank like that." The two of you walk closer to the harbor. Well, while you're sharing things... "You know... I've got to tell you something. You're in the habit of fidgeting, just a little bit, when you're nervous. In fact, you're doing it right now." You reveal. "Wait, what? Since when? Ohh..." He looks at his fingers, which just moments ago were rapidly tapping into the side of the mugs in his hand. "I'll be damned..." Einar mutters under his breath, blushing in the pale moonlight. "I didn't mean to offend you. Simply pointing out a quirk I've noticed, is all." You innocently proclaim, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Can't believe no one's told me..." Einar still mutters under his breath. "You know what else I've noticed?" you ask, gaining his full attention once more. "No, what's that?" He asks when you teasingly draw it out, letting him wait in agony for just a few more seconds... [["That you've grown more handsome since the last time I really looked at you."]] [["That you haven't told me where we're going."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0671.png">His compliment makes you blush for some reason. "Thank you, I suppose the glow of Mundilfari agrees with my complexion." you jest, and he smiles in agreement. A moment of silence later and you're standing at a public balcony overlooking the harbor. "Up there." Einar points to a rooftop on the right side of the balcony. The snow has melted around the chimney on the roof he's pointing at, with black smoke belching out into the sky above. "And how exactly did you assume I would climb up there, wearing something as tight as this?" You ask with sincere concern, revealing your dark green dress under your cloak. Einar looks shocked, like he can't believe his eyes. "Oh fuck me... I forgot about the dress! Shite... It's just so bizarre, to have to think you can't climb... I'm not used to this!" You can't help but feel that... [[He should've paid more attention.]] [[This is not going to stop you. Rip your dress and climb up to the roof!]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0672.png">His compliment surely doesn't mean a thing. And you dismiss it with a wave of your hand. "Don't be silly, Einar. I look just the same in daylight as in Mundilfari's glow." you jest, but you can tell your words do not have the effect you were hoping for. A moment of silence later and you're standing at a public balcony overlooking the harbor. "Up there." Einar points to a rooftop on the right side of the balcony. The snow has melted around the chimney on the roof he's pointing at, with black smoke belching out into the sky above. "And how exactly did you assume I would climb up there, wearing something as tight as this?" You ask with sincere concern, revealing your dark green dress under your cloak. Einar looks shocked, like he can't believe his eyes. "Oh fuck me... I forgot about the dress! Shite... It's just so bizarre, to have to think you can't climb... I'm not used to this!" You can't help but feel that... [[He should've paid more attention.]] [[This is not going to stop you. Rip your dress and climb up to the roof!]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_rip_dress to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0674.png">"A bit of an oversight, wouldn't you say?" You comment, only slightly sarcastically. Einar seems to completely agree as he gestures toward the bench on the balcony, overlooking the harbor. "It's not as warm down here as it would've been near the leaking chimney, but the view is almost as good." He explains, clearing away the snow that covers the bench. Then he sits down and pours the two of you a hefty mug of hot chocolate. You accept it, feeling its warmth radiating into your fingers through your thick gloves. The steam is bringing euphoric notes of cocoa to your nose. A miracle bean that, not native to Valkama. But where in the world does it come from, you wonder? However, your attention quickly returns to the view of the harbor. The frozen ocean forms a thick protective layer around Valkama. A narrow passage has been cleared through the ice, allowing ships to pass in two files to and from the harbor. Soon, however, spring will arrive and melt it all away. And with it, the sound of the ocean swelling up against Valkama. From your vantage point, you can see dozens of citizens fishing on the ice. They've drilled small holes into the thick ice, and hold tiny lanterns over the holes to lure fish to them. You know from experience that they use jigging rods to capture and pull out catch after catch. An hour on the ice could net them a score of fish. "Valkama never seizes to amaze." You find yourself commenting, finally taking a sip of the hot chocolate. The flavours explode in your mouth, the bitter thick concoction brewed to perfection, sweetened with sugar. "You're right about that..." Einar muses, enjoying his own cup of cocoa. [[Enjoy the view for a while.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <<set $ch6_rip_dress to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0673.png">"We'll just have to do something about that, won't we?" You say with a sly smile and firmly grab your dress around the knees. Einar watches with wide eyes as you pull, ripping the seams, breaking the tight fabric prison that your legs have been obstructed by. "Come on! Last one up is a drowsy walrus!" You shout, rushing toward the low wall. Einar snaps out of his shock and joins you, but he has a distinct disadvantage carrying a pot of hot chocolate and two accompanying mugs. You're the first up, and by a large margin. It's an immediate relief from the cold weather to reach the leaking chimney, which is strategically warming the area and rooftop around it. You wonder if the owners know they're wasting heat like this. Your cold legs are thoroughly enjoying the warmth of the rooftop in this otherwise bitter cold night. Einar joins you, shaking his head. "You're still full of surprises Taru, even after all these years." He muses and sits down next to you on the warm tiled rooftop. Then he pours the two of you a hefty mug of hot chocolate. You accept it, feeling its warmth radiating into your fingers through your thick gloves. The steam is bringing euphoric notes of cocoa to your nose. A miracle bean that, not native to Valkama. But where in the world does it come from, you wonder? However, your attention quickly returns to the view of the harbor. The frozen ocean forms a thick protective layer around Valkama. A narrow passage has been cleared through the ice, allowing ships to pass in two files to and from the harbor. Soon, however, spring will arrive and melt it all away. And with it, the sound of the ocean swelling up against Valkama. From your vantage point, you can see dozens of citizens fishing on the ice. They've drilled small holes into the thick ice, and hold tiny lanterns over the holes to lure fish to them. You know from experience that they use jigging rods to capture and pull out catch after catch. An hour on the ice could net them a score of fish. "Valkama never seizes to amaze." You find yourself commenting, finally taking a sip of the hot chocolate. The flavours explode in your mouth, the bitter thick concoction brewed to perfection, sweetened with sugar. "You're right about that..." Einar muses, enjoying his own cup of cocoa. [[Enjoy the view for a while.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "serious_night_slow">> <</silently>><<if $ch6_rip_dress is true>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0675a.png"><<else>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0675b.png"><</if>>The frozen mountaintops loom in the far distance to the north, their jagged peaks covered in snow that never melts. Now, in the final days of winter, the slopes are shrouded in a thick layer of white, concealing the otherwise hard edges of the rocks. Your gaze travels down to the city below you, your home, stretching as far as the eye can see. A labyrinth of stone and timber, softened by a layer of frost-covered snow. Lanterns flicker in the evening dark, illuminating most of the streets in the city below in small dancing lights. The brightest lights come from the Royal and Aristocratic districts, while the Lower- and Outer City slums are sparsely lit. Like the city doesn't want to recognize their existence, attempting to conceal them in the dark. What stands out the most are the Inner City Gardens, which silently defy the cold weather by somehow staying warm and green all year long. The marvel of Valkama. "You've got something... Right there..." you tell Einar, who has somehow managed to get a chocolate and milk moustache. He wipes it away in a frantic gesture, but says with a soft voice: "Thanks..." After a moment of thoughtful consideration, simply taking in the view from your vantage point, you break the silence with a question that's been on your mind the whole evening. "Einar... Why now?" <<if $ch6_rip_dress is true>>The warmth from the rooftop is making you relax.<<else>>The cold wind on the bench is making you shiver.<</if>> The hot chocolate tastes heavenly. He doesn't seem to understand your question. "Why now, what?" His eyes scan the horizon, the city below, trying to figure out what you're talking about. At that moment, you feel at a crossroads. Are the two of you just going to avoid the subject the whole evening? At that moment, you make up your mind, and say: [["Why did you ask me out now? And not before?"]] [["Nevermind... Look, this has been fun, but I think we should head back."]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0676.png">He's clearly taken by surprise by the question, which doesn't seem to bode well. He clears his throat, gazing up at the mountains, and begins: "As I said, I just started seeing you differently.." But you interrupt him: "Yes, you told me that. But I've seen the way you look at me. This must have been brewing for a while. What changed?" Your acute observation has him baffled, scratching his neck. "I guess I understood that life is finite. That we are, in fact, mortal. The last mission proved it. You could've been killed." He looks at you, a new intensity in his eyes. "You don't have to worry about me. You know I can handle myself." You retort, dismissing his concern. But when he takes your gloves hands into his, and leans forward, you find yourself staring into his pale blue eyes. So icy, like they belong in the thick of winter, yet warm when they meet your gaze. "I don't have to worry, no. But I want to." His smile is timid, like he's afraid to say more. His breath is warm, inches from your face, with a pleasant hint of hot chocolate. <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>He has a look on his face you've never seen before. Like an open question, asking you to take a leap of faith...<<else>>Einar hesitates for a moment, but then he looks away. Like he's realized something. <</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>[[Look away and tell him this is a mistake.]]<<else>>[[Einar sighs.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>[[Pull him close for a kiss.|kiss 3]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0681.png">Your words come out harsher than you intended, but Einar doesn't seem to notice your tone. "Yeah, it's pretty cold out here. Even with this." He says, gesturing toward the <<if $ch6_rip_dress is true>>warm rooftop under you and the <</if>>hot chocolate in his hand. For a moment, the two of you sit silently side-by-side, unsure what to do next. "Right, well we should get going..." Einar announces and gets up first. He finishes his mug of cocoa and cleans it with a bit of snow. You do the same with your mug. He's taking in the view of the city below, clearly deep in thought. Overall, it's hard to judge how this date went. It had its ups and downs, for sure. But the most important thing was to spend some time with Einar that didn't involve sneaking about or breaking in somewhere, or killing someone... Quite the refreshing evening indeed. <<if $ch6_rip_dress is true>>The two of you climb down from the rooftop, returning to the balcony with the bench.<</if>> When you look at Einar, you suddenly get the urge to... [[Throw a snowball at his unsuspecting back.]] <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>[[Pull him close for a kiss.]]<<else>>[[Pull him close for a kiss.|failed kiss]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0682.png">While Einar is distracted, you slip your gloves off and gather a handful of snow. The warmth of your hands melts it enough to pack it tightly into a ball, which you silently raise above your head, aim and throw with impressive precision. It lands at the back of his head with a thud, startling him. He turns around, a surprised look on his face. Your innocent shrug suggests that you have no idea where that came from, but it most certainly wasn't you! But the look in his face tells you he's up to something, and with a smirk his gloves come off too. You slide behind the bench, expertly dodging his first snowball. Both of you are screaming, the care of the world gone as you immerse yourself in a serious battle of wits with snowballs flying back and forth. Einar is covered in snow, laughing as he desperately tries to find cover, while returning fire. A bold move has him rushing straight at you, and you manage to land a snowball straight in his face! The two of you tumble and fall into a pile of snow, out-of-breath and panting loudly. He's on top of you, pinning you down with his weight, but the smile on his face is wider than you've seen all evening. He's looking at you, with snow stuck in his nose, in his hair, inside his cloak. His breath is warm, inches from your face, with a pleasant hint of hot chocolate. Your eyes meet... <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>He has a look on his face you've never seen before. Like an open question, asking you to take a leap of faith...<<else>>Einar hesitates for a moment, but then he looks away, rolls to the side and stands up. The look on his face tells you that he's realized something. Confused, you stand up as well, brushing away snow from your cloak.<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>[[Gently push him away. You can feel this is a mistake.|Gently push him away.]]<<else>>[[Einar sighs.]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_einar_date_points >= 5>>[[Pull him close for a kiss.|kiss 2]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_kiss_einar to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0683.png">Einar is taken completely by surprise when you take a determined step forward, grab his winter collar with both your hands and not too gently pull him close to you. His body is stiff, nervous, but when your legs touch, your cloaks pressed together tightly, and the warmth of your breaths merge in the cold winter air, he relaxes. Surrenders, pulled in by your seductive lips. You close your eyes when he leans closer. Then his soft lips meet yours, testing the waters. They're warm, and taste of hot chocolate. Then your lips press together, firmly this time, the taste and warmth of your shared breath palpable. You part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Hesitantly at first, he accepts the offer, his tongue exploring your mouth as he in turn pulls you on with one hand in your hair, and one around your waist. Gods, it feels good to finally kiss him. The casual conversations up until now have all been avoiding the subject, this moment, but you're finally here. Taking charge of things, showing him that you want him. You can feel him trembling when you slide your arms inside of his cloak, playfully caressing the small of his back and thighs. His fingers dig deep into your hair, surprisingly gently, like he's afraid you're made of glass and could break at any moment. The butterflies in your stomach are gone as you take in the smell and taste of Einar, the two of you becoming one for just a short moment, the bright moon above you a silent witness. Time has no meaning as the two of you kiss, filled with astonishment at how each kiss feels like the first, pushing you deeper into his embrace. Everything is perfect. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_kiss_einar to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0684.png">You wrap your hands around him, drawing him close. His body is stiff, nervous, but with your cloaks pressed together tightly, and the warmth of your breaths merging in the cold winter air, he relaxes. Surrenders, pulled in by your seductive lips. You close your eyes when he leans down. Then his soft lips meet yours, testing the waters. They're warm, and taste of hot chocolate. Then your lips press together, firmly this time, the taste and warmth of your shared breath palpable. You part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Hesitantly at first, he accepts the offer, his tongue exploring your mouth as he gently presses his body into yours. Gods, it feels good to finally kiss him. The casual conversations up until now have all been avoiding the subject, this moment, but you're finally here. Taking charge of things, showing him that you want him. You can feel him trembling when you slide your arms inside of his cloak, playfully caressing the small of his back and thighs. His fingers dig deep into your hair, surprisingly gently, like he's afraid you're made of glass and could break at any moment. The butterflies in your stomach are gone as you take in the smell and taste of Einar, the two of you becoming one for just a short moment, the bright moon above you a silent witness. Time has no meaning as the two of you kiss, filled with astonishment at how each kiss feels like the first, pushing you deeper into his embrace. Everything is perfect. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0685.png">When he senses your hesitation, he slips away. The two of you stand up, brush away the snow and look at each-other in the light of the moon. "Look... Einar..." you begin, unsure how to say this. He perks his ears, giving you his full attention. But the look on his face says it all. He knows what you're about to say, even though he might hope you wouldn't. "Going on this date... I think this was a mistake. I only realized now when we actually took the time and did it. This just feels... Wrong. We're friends, that's it. And I want to keep it that way." Your words feel harsh, and rushed like you want to get them out as quickly as possible, even though you try to say them as calmly and thoughtfully as possible. Einar nods his head and sighs. "Yeah... I could feel it as soon as I put on this tux. Like the clothes were saying to me - 'This is a bad idea. Don't do it. We'll choke you.'" He shakes his head, then smiles. You're unsure if he's just saying things, hiding his true feelings. You were sure you saw something else in his eyes just moments ago... "But I had fun. Nothing's changed between us, I hope?" He asks, a mildly concerned look on his face. "Nothing's changed, Einar. Don't worry." Deep inside, you feel this is the right decision. The two of you truly need to stay just friends. But somehow it still hurts. Like being stung by an angry bee. A throbbing pain that leaves you feeling confused. "Well, let's head back to the hideout then. Like nothing happened." Einar announces, almost like he's mentally preparing himself. You can't help but feel there's something on his chest that hasn't been said. That nothing has changed is a lie. Everything has changed. "Einar... Are you sure you're alright with us being just friends? After all, you figuratively speaking poured your heart out to me yesterday... But I just can't reciprocate your feelings." You say after a moment of silence. Einar shakes his head. "Look... It sucks, alright? But I get it. I'm just glad I finally asked you out. Now we can both move on from here, hopefully stronger than ever." He replies, and this time you can sense a genuine smile and relief on his face. Yes, maybe this won't end in disaster after all. Maybe the two of you can brush this aside as an anecdote, and stay friends? The two of you head back to the gang, already joking and sharing a laugh. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0680.png">When he senses your hesitation, he pauses. Your gaze is averted, but you can tell he's looking at you in the light of the moon. "Look... Einar..." you begin, unsure how to say this. He perks his ears, giving you his full attention. But the look on his face says it all. He knows what you're about to say, even though he might hope you wouldn't. "Going on this date... I think this was a mistake. I only realized now when we actually took the time and did it. This just feels... Wrong. We're friends, that's it. And I want to keep it that way." Your words feel harsh, and rushed like you want to get them out as quickly as possible, even though you try to say them as calmly and thoughtfully as possible. Einar nods his head and sighs. "Yeah... I could feel it as soon as I put on this tux. Like the clothes were saying to me - 'This is a bad idea. Don't do it. We'll choke you.'" He shakes his head, then smiles. You're unsure if he's just saying these things, hiding his true feelings. Didn't he just say something completely different a moment ago? "But I had fun. Nothing's changed between us, I hope?" He asks, a mildly concerned look on his face. "Nothing's changed, Einar. Don't worry." Deep inside, you feel this is the right decision. The two of you truly need to stay just friends. But somehow it still hurts. Like being stung by an angry bee. A throbbing pain that leaves you feeling confused. "Well, let's head back to the hideout then. Like nothing happened." Einar announces, almost like he's mentally preparing himself. You can't help but feel there's something on his chest that hasn't been said. That nothing has changed is a lie. Everything has changed. "Einar... Are you sure you're alright with us being just friends? After all, you figuratively speaking poured your heart out to me yesterday and just now... But I just can't reciprocate your feelings." You say after a moment of silence. Einar shakes his head. "Look... It sucks, alright? But I get it. I'm just glad I finally asked you out. Now we can both move on from here, hopefully stronger than ever." He replies, and this time you can sense a genuine smile and relief on his face. Yes, maybe this won't end in disaster after all. Maybe the two of you can brush this aside as an anecdote, and stay friends? The two of you head back to the gang, already joking and sharing a laugh. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_kiss_einar to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0678.png">He leans forward, his body stiff and nervous. When you close your eyes and your lips meet with the faintest of touches, he relaxes. Your breaths merge in the cold winter air as you pull him closer, your cloaks pressed together tightly. His soft lips explore yours gently, testing the waters. They're warm, and taste of hot chocolate. Then your lips press together, firmly this time, the taste and warmth of your shared breath palpable. You part your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. Hesitantly at first, he accepts the offer, his tongue exploring your mouth as he gently presses his body into yours. Gods, it feels good to finally kiss him. The casual conversations up until now have all been avoiding the subject, this moment, but you're finally here. Taking charge of things, showing him that you want him. You can feel him trembling when you slide your arms inside of his cloak, playfully caressing the small of his back. His fingers dig deep into your hair, surprisingly gently, like he's afraid you're made of glass and could break at any moment. The butterflies in your stomach are gone as you take in the smell and taste of Einar, the two of you becoming one for just a short moment, the bright moon above you a silent witness. Time has no meaning as the two of you kiss, filled with astonishment at how each kiss feels like the first, pushing you deeper into his embrace. Everything is perfect. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0677.png">You can tell he's got something on his mind. Something that's bothering him. "Look... Taru..." he begins, unsure how to say whatever is on his chest. You perk your ears, giving him your full attention. "Going on this date... I think this was a mistake. I only realized now when we actually took the time and did it. This just feels... Wrong. We're friends, that's it. And I want to keep it that way." His words feel harsh, and rushed like he wants to get them out as quickly as possible. You find yourself confused, but at the moment all you can think to do is nod and say: "Yeah... I could feel it as soon as I put on this dress. Like the clothes were saying to me - 'This is a bad idea. Don't do it. This isn't you.'" But your head is spinning. What's happening...? "Look. I had fun. Nothing's changed between us, I hope?" He asks, a mildly concerned look on his face. "Nothing's changed, Einar. Don't worry." You're unsure how you feel right now. "Well, let's head back to the hideout then. Like nothing happened." Einar announces, almost like he's mentally preparing himself. You can't help but feel there's something on his chest that hasn't been said. That nothing has changed is a lie. Everything has changed. "Einar... Are you sure you want us to just be friends? After all, you figuratively speaking poured your heart out to me yesterday... What changed?" You say after a moment of silence. Einar shakes his head, then shrugs. "I don't know, to be honest. But I just keep thinking of you as my sister, and those thoughts conflict pretty harshly with the thoughts I had yesterday when I asked you out... But I'm glad I finally did. Asked you out, I mean. I now know I want us to be friends - and nothing more. Now we can both move on from here, hopefully stronger than ever." He replies, and this time you can sense a genuine smile and relief on his face. Yes, maybe this won't end in disaster after all. Maybe the two of you can brush this aside as an anecdote, and stay friends? "Well... Fuck me. Or rather, don't. That'd be a weird thing to do to your 'sister'." You retort, laughing, almost like a defence mechanism. You can't quite make sense of your own feelings yet... Eventually the two of you head back to the gang, lightly joking and sharing a laugh. ... The world disappears in a mist... [[The memory fades away.|nightmare transition]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0679.png">Einar is taken completely by surprise when you take a determined step forward, grab his winter collar with both your hands and not too gently pull him close to you. His body is stiff and you can sense something's wrong. When he takes a step back, a frown on his face, you let go of his cloak. The look on his face is hard to understand, but he's conflicted. Patiently, you let him gather his thoughts, even as the chill cold of the night suddenly feels uninviting. Like the magic of the night has dispersed, blown away by the frigid northern winds. [[Einar sighs.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_almost_eat_erika to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/6-0724.png">Erika lets out a shocked yelp of surprise at your request, but you can't help but sense a hint of excitement in it. She did not expect it, but she does welcome it. Jeff barks a laugh and pats you on your cheek with the palm of his hand. "Very well, you horny cunt. Erika, get down on the mat and spread your legs for your friend." Jeff commands. Erika complies without hesitation, shuffling down onto the mat next to you. "Good. Your friend's legs are wide open for you, welcoming you, Taru. She's soaking wet. Here..." Blindfolded as you are, Jeff has to guide you down toward Erika, with a firm grip of your hair. It's almost painful, but his assertiveness edges you on as you lean down toward what must be Erika's deliciously exposed pussy. Your thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions as you lower yourself down further... The scent of her submissive and wetness assaults your senses, sweet and pleasant, yet overwhelming. Your mouth opens to greet her, your lips about to touch the outer lips of her vulva... [[An unknown voice shouting in the corridor stops you in your tracks.|threesome end]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <<set $ch7_kill_priestess to false>> <<set $ch7_talk_to_jokna to false>> <<set $ch7_almost_go_for_kill to false>> <<set $ch7_grab_pendant to false>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_get_scroll_with_ritual to false>> <<set $ch7_cleanse_dagger to false>> <<set $ch7_swear_to_kill_piru to false>> <<set $ch7_almost_ask_about_father to false>> <<set $ch7_truth_about_father to false>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_punished to false>> <<set $ch7_came_from_church to false>> <<set $ch7_warning_about_abyss_pull_from_jokna to false>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_confess_thief to false>> <<set $ch7_true_whipping to false>> <<set $ch7_remove_shirt to false>> <<set $ch7_back_is_bloody to false>> <<set $ch7_confess_about_to_kill_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure to 0>> <<set $ch7_felt_goddess to false>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse to false>> <<set $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off to false>> <<set $ch7_kill_jokna to false>> <<if ndef $QIDDemonPledge_t10>> <<set $QIDDemonPledge_t10 to "You have sworn that you will kill Piru, if you get the chance...">> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/BREWERY_ATTIC.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 7 - 11th Hour</h4>The cold of the void fills the room and it's clear that staying here is not an option. Not with the Abyssal forces trying to grab you in your sleep... But you also know, deep in your bones, that running is not going to solve anything: This is within you, and will follow you wherever you go. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You have a deal with a devil keep, and priestly blood to spill... Surely going down this route will further damn your soul, but quite frankly you don't care. You're already doomed. A walking corpse. A lost cause. What choice do you have, really? Saying no to Piru, defying him by breaking your pact... That would be a most oolish thing to do indeed. No. As much as you hate the thought, you're too deep in trouble as it is to refuse his demands. Your hand has been forced and there's no going back. It's time to pay the church another visit...<<else>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>The half-insane church might be your best bet at finding salvation after all... Lunatics that pierce your eyes, making you blind, worshippers of an entity that is merciful in name only. Barely better than cultists or devil-worshippers, if you're being brutally honest. But still, the power their God of Mercy exudes is palpable. Real and raw. If there's anyone or anything that can help you save your soul from the abyss and break your pact with Piru, it's their God. Certainly it's worth paying them a second visit at the very least...<<else>>Right now, you ache for the familiar safety of your gang. Someone to talk to. Someone who's been at your side for years. Your objective becomes clear: Get to Rustic Fork Inn and await Einar, who should hopefully arrive in the evening...<</if>><</if>> You leave your hideout<<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>, glancing back at the lost woman you saved. Dead weight that one... "Come on, time to get the fuck out of here. We're heading for the Rustic Fork Inn." You announce to her as you jump out onto the small balcony. In mute silence, she follows you<</if>>. It's early in the morning, with the sun hanging low. The darkness of the night cannot reach you now, shielded as you are in the warmth of the sun. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>[[Soon you are on your way, never to return to this cursed place...|go to the Rustic Fork Inn]]<<else>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Soon you are on your way, never to return to this cursed place...|go to church]]<<else>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>[[Soon you are on your way, never to return to this cursed place...|go to church]]<<else>>[[Soon you are on your way, never to return to this cursed place...|go to the Rustic Fork Inn]]<</if>><</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/HARBOR_DAYTIME.png">The way to the Rustic Fork Inn is familiar, bringing back memories of the time leading up to the heist. The preparations, the scouting you did with Einar. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>The woman is surprisingly agile today, able to keep up with you even as you take to the roofs to avoid the crowded streets. It's like she's slowly regaining her strength, even though she still doesn't say much at all.<</if>> It's bizarrely mundane, your trip to the inn. A stark contrast with everything you've seen these past few days, including the harrowing waking up today. For just the tiniest moment you allow yourself to forget about your worries and troubles, letting the warmth of the morning sun caress your skin. The fresh air of the snowy mountains far to the north reaches you on this warm summer day as you take a deep breath, each step taking you closer to the Rustic Fork Inn. [[Soon, you reach your destination...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_night">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_ROOFTOP_VIEW.png">It doesn't take you long to navigate back to the Divine District over the empty rooftops, avoiding the guards patrolling the streets. When you set your eyes on the massive structure, towering over you like it's judging your soul, you suddenly feel nervous. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>Surely they'll be expecting trouble, after you killed Opettaille...<<else>>You vividly recall your last visit to this place...<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>A cloud of smoke and the stench of regret and eternal damnation fills your nose, as Piru appears from his portal next to you on the rooftops. In silence, you ignore your infernal patron. "Ah, what's this? A sour pout upon that delicious face of yours? Come now, little blade, the thrill of the hunt and the ecstasy of the kill shall be yours before long." Piru dramatically announces, taunting you. When you still do not answer, he turns to face you, cocking his head. "Ah, I see it now... Determination and focus, etched upon your brow. Very well, I shall leave you to your work. But let me remind you, should the proverbial muck strike the windmill in that temple, you're quite on your own. My influence, alas, does not reach within those hallowed walls." He says, waving his hand in a grand gesture at the Temple of the God of Mercy. You know all you need to know. Go in there, kill <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>Jokna<<else>>Opettaille and Jokna<</if>>, and get out.<<else>>Somehow, you expected Piru to show up, mocking you for turning to the God of Mercy in your time of need. But the rooftops remain blissfully empty from his presence, his voice silent in your head. Maybe he truly doesn't care what you do, thinking all your efforts futile? Or maybe a demonic God has more important things to do than always keep an eye on his toys? Regardless, you're grateful for the moment of peace.<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"The abyss is growing unpredictable... I woke up with tendrils covering the floor, like they were about to consume me..." You find yourself confessing with a soft whisper. Maybe you're turning to the archdemon for guidance or comfort? Or maybe you just need to say it out loud to someone... But the demon doesn't appear to be overly concerned. "Frankly, I'm astonished it took this long. Truly, the Old Poison is ever a ravenous thing. Perhaps this little incident will serve as a lesson against dithering, hmm? No matter, onward you go. A grisly little chore awaits your capable hands." He simply says, dismissing your concerns. What did you expect, sympathy from a devil? Piru summons a portal and is about to leave, but halts in his tracks, then turns to face you once more. "It nearly slipped my mind... The most crucial tidbit of wisdom, my dear. Whatever you do, silence the priest Jokna before he opens his mouth. His words are no mere prattle. They're snares, spells spun to strip you of will and leave you as meek as a lamb for the slaughter. Ta-taa!" Piru waves his hand and disappears into the portal. And just like that, you're alone with your thoughts and troubles again. <</if>>A deep breath is all you need to steel yourself. It's time. No more dithering. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>[[The priests have accepted you as one of them. Pretend to seek Opettaille's advice again.|seek advice]]<<else>>[[The priests do not welcome you. Sneak unseen into the temple...|sneak temple]]<</if>><<else>>[[The priests have accepted you as one of them. Seek Opettaille's advice again.|seek advice]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>[[It's best to just get down to business. Sneak unseen into the temple...|sneak temple]]<</if>><</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">The place looks exactly as you remember it, even though it's been many weeks since you were here last time. A glance around the place reveals the place to be dimly lit and grimy. The air hangs heavy with smoke and soot, illuminated only by the flicker of whale oil candles casting long, distorted shadows. The common room feels oppressive, its low ceilings and insect-eaten wooden beams closing in on the figures huddled at worn tables. "What can I get you, fine <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>ladies?<<else>>lady?<</if>>" The innkeeper asks, eyeing you. The pox-scarred innkeeper is familiar to you, but he doesn't seem to recognize you. That's always good in your line of business. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"<<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>I'm hoping you could keep an eye on her for a few hours. She's... A simpleton, you see. Shy and quiet. She won't cause any trouble. I'll be back in the afternoon...<</if>>" you place a coin on the counter, sliding it to the innkeeper, who promptly pockets the silver. "Certainly. I shall look after her as if she was my own daughter." The innkeeper assures you with a short nod of his head.<<else>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>"<<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>I'm hoping you could keep an eye on her for a few hours. She's... A simpleton, you see. Shy and quiet. She won't cause any trouble. I'll be back in the afternoon...<</if>>" you place a coin on the counter, sliding it to the innkeeper, who promptly pockets the silver. "Certainly. I shall look after her as if she was my own daughter." The innkeeper assures you with a short nod of his head.<</if>><</if>> "I'm supposed to meet an old friend of mine here later... You wouldn't have happened to see a young man around, short blonde hair, blue eyes. About my height and age?" The innkeeper scratches his chin. "Can't say that I have, no. But I'll keep an eye for a fellow matching your description." The innkeeper replies, turning his attention to a pile of dirty mugs which he promptly begins to clean with an equally dirty rag. Well, what did you expect? Einar said he'd be here in the evening, not sooner. "Thanks." you murmur under your breath. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"I'll be back later." you announce, prompt heading out without further explanation or words.<<else>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>"I'll be back later." you announce, prompt heading out without further explanation or words.<<else>>"I'll wait.." you announce, paying the man for a tankard of ale before finding the same table Einar and you sat at weeks before. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>The woman joins you, eyeing the place with a strange look on her face.<</if>><</if>><</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Your steps take you toward the Divine District once again...|go to church]]<<else>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>[[Your steps take you toward the Divine District once again...|go to church]]<<else>>[[Wait until the evening.]]<</if>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png"><<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>><<if $ch7_came_from_church is true>>The woman you rescued from Tryton's doom clock is nowhere to be seen, but the innkeeper assures you that she's upstairs in a room. Apparently she wanted to be alone for a while. That's fine with you. You don't mind a bit of time alone now either... <<else>>After a while of waiting, the woman you rescued from Tryton's doom clock stands up and walks to the innkeeper. With a raised eyebrow, you witness as she has a muted conversation with him, then the man gives her a key. She passes your table, signalling that she wants to be alone for a while, then disappears up the stairs. That's fine with you. You don't mind a bit of time alone now either.. She isn't exactly the best at small talk anyway... <</if>><</if>>A few hours later, it's getting dark outside... <<if $ch7_felt_goddess is true>>In the gloom, you can't help but wonder... If the God of Mercy has no power to help you, does your actions matter? A thief and assassin you remain, even though one Goddess has seemingly forgiven you... Your thoughts go to Jokna, and the Goddess, and Opettaille...<</if>> ... Afternoon has turned into evening as you patiently wait for Einar to show up. To pass the time, you're throwing daggers at a dartboard next to your table. On the table in front of you, a meager bowl of soup, only half eaten, sits discarded next to two empty tankards of ale. Rumour around the tavern reaches your ears as you wait. Jaerwik's King Kodrick died peacefully in his sleep, at the young age of 21. His younger brother, Prince Oikea, is to be crowned within the week as the new King of Jaerwik... <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You almost choke on your ale when you hear that lie... He was brutally murdered by the shadow ruler Colematoin! Well, you didn't witness the murder directly... But you saw him dragging the King's corpse through the Doom Clock like a sack of potatoes. Of course, these observations you do not say out loud to any of the patrons of the inn...<<else>>Strange things are happening in Valkama, when young Kings die in their beds for no reason...<</if>> <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>You have not seen the woman you rescued from the Doom Clock for a few hours, but you assume she's upstairs sleeping. <</if>>Einar should be arriving any second now... You throw a dagger - not the infernal bone dagger of course - at the dartboard on the wall next to your table. It lands near the center with a satisfying thud. Just when you're about to stand up and fetch it, a second dagger flies over past your head, landing neatly directly in the center of the board. The hollow thunk that follows echoes in the room, its blade sinking just deep enough to hold, for a moment. Then, as if reconsidering its place, it quivers, vibrating from the impact. A soft creak behind you signals that someone is approaching. And there's just one person in Valkama who could casually manage a throw like that. With a hopeful grin on your face, you turn around and... [[Greeting the shadow that stands next to your table...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_WINDOW.png">A stealthy approach is the best way to get your grizzly deed done. Unseen in and unseen out. A shadow that leaves death behind, but not another trace. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>Of course, you know from first-hand experience the wrath of the God of Mercy for slaying one of her priests... The image of the ghost rising from the ruined altar after you took Opettaille's life haunts your memories.<<else>>First Opetaille, who should be an easy target.<</if>> Jokna, on the other hand, sounds like a more dangerous foe. If he sees you and speaks, you're as good as dead, or so you gather from Piru's warning. Right. Well, first things first. Got to get into the damned temple... You decide to slip in unseen through a window. 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. 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. [[This is the same room where you met Opettaille the last time.|second enter window]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_CORRIDOR.png">It's time to pay another visit to Opettaille. A feeling of profound dread washes over you as you enter the courtyard outside the temple, approaching the grand building's front door. Priests and acolytes watch your approach, in silence. Their gazes make you feel unwelcome. Watched. Like an outsider. Which, to be fair, you are. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Surely they cannot sense the demonic pact, the evil you are about to bring into their most sacred house of prayer...<</if>> Surprisingly, you find Opettaille waiting for you at the front door. "I thought I sensed your approach. Welcome back, Taru. Please, follow me." Opettaillle says and waves his hand, causing the long sleeves of his robes to flap like wings. You follow him, through a series of corridors and down a set of stairs. He doesn't ask you if you know more about Piru. About how to break your pact. Nor about the Abyss. Instead, he remains silent, as do you as you follow him ever deeper into the basement of the temple... Finally, he stops in front of a massive door in a damp and dimly lit corridor. It's cold in here, and water is dripping down the walls, forming small pools on the floor. "Where are we...?" You ask when Opettaille opens the door. A screeching sound of rusty hinges deafens you. "A place where you can connect with your thoughts. Undisturbed." Opettaille answers cryptically. Then he lights a torch and enters the room. You glance around. There's no one else down here. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>A perfect place to slice his throat. No witnesses...<</if>> [[Follow him into the dark room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_OPETTAILLE_ROOM.png">The room is shrouded in darkness like last time, the only light emanating from a solitary candle flickering on an altar at the far end. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>The altar is repaired, and looks exactly like it did before. There's no sign of Opettaille's assassination, the ruined altar or the storm that ripped books from the shelves. The revelation makes cold sweat run down the back of your neck. It's like you were never here...<</if>> The room is empty, and yet it feels like someone's watching you. A presence just at the edge of your vision, but as soon as you turn your head, it's gone. You're spinning the infernal dagger nervously in your hand, feeling the heat of the hilt radiating into your palm and fingers. It's like the blade has woken up, alert and aware, eager to spill blood. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>>No Opettaille here. That would've been a bit too easy, right?<</if>> Well, time to do some recon and blend in. The corridor outside is empty, but you patiently wait until you see a shape approaching from a distance. They haven't seen you lurking in the darkness as they shuffle in their priestly robes through the corridor. They're in a hurry, barely paying attention to their surroundings. A quick glance around you confirms that the corridor is empty. The priest or priestess, whoever it is, will soon pass the door to the room you're hiding in. [[Silently pull them into the room.|Silently pull him into the room.]] [[Let them walk past - you don't want to alert them to your presence.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_OPETTAILLE_ROOM.png">As soon as the priest is in front of the door, you act. You swing the door open, and muffle them with your hand over their mouth and quickly pull them into the room. They're surprisingly light, and when you pull down their hood you realize why. It's an old woman, frail, her eyes filled with fear. Your hand is still covering her mouth, and you have the infernal blade pressed against her throat. [[Ask her for directions.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_OPETTAILLE_ROOM.png">"I'm going to make this very easy for you. You'll answer a couple of my questions, or I'll slice your throat. Scream for help, and I kill you. Understand?" The old woman nods, her eyes wide with terror. Slowly, you remove your hand, allowing her to speak. "Where can I find Jokna<<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>> and Opettaille<</if>>?" You ask her, your infernal dagger still firmly pressed to her throat. "The tower... Above the hall..." She says, her voice barely a whisper. "<<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>>Both of them? <</if>>You're going to have to be more specific than that. How do I get there from here?" Come on old crone... Spill it out. She takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, then replies with another whisper: "Follow the corridor to the right, take the spiral staircase up three floors... Then follow the corridor past the Poet's room, up another three flights of stairs... There's only one door on that floor, it's the one you're looking for..." Those instructions are indeed clear enough. "Thank you, now that wasn't so hard, was it?" You ask, but do not release her just yet. You can't have her running around here telling there's a crazy lady with a blade about... <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>You do not want to kill her and repeat what happened with Opettaille, the literal spirit of vengeance chasing you down these hallowed halls....<</if>> [[Knock her out.]] <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>>[[Kill her.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kill_priestess to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">You don't need trouble from a priest who looks like he's in a hurry and expected somewhere. Instead, you let them walk past your hiding place. Right. But where the hell are you supposed to go... A stranger sensation comes over you when you leave the room and take a few steps down the corridor. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to stop and go the other way... With a dry mouth, you're standing there, frozen in your tracks. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. Turn back. Not this way. It's impossible to resist the urge to turn around... Something's controlling you as you take a step in the other direction, to the right of the room you came from. Your steps feel light, your feet numb, as you sneak down the corridor in the opposite direction. When you walk past a staircase, you're once again gripped by an urge to stop. Whatever is pulling your strings wants you to go up, not continue down the corridor. Your panic is increasing as you once again find yourself unable to resist, your legs taking you one step at a time higher, up the spiralling staircase. One floor. Another. A third. Then they halt. You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <<set $ch7_kill_priestess to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_GHOST.png">She knows too much. With practiced hands, you grab her head and snap her neck. Less messy this way. But your victory is short-lived. A sudden gust of wind howls painfully in your ears from the open window, blowing out the single candle illuminating the room, sending books flying from their shelves in a chaotic tornado. You let the dead priest's body fall to the floor. Amidst the howling wind, painful to your ears, and the flying books and parchments cutting your skin and colliding with you, you hear a grinding sound from the altar. Heart beating, you take a few tentative steps away from the altar. Then it bursts in two, sending stones flying in every direction. Instinct kicks in as you duck the shards and chunks of stone, which scatter into the room, violently breaking the benches, chairs, and bookshelves around you. You recover, and glance up, only to see a blue ghostly skeletal figure appear from the rubble of the altar, an impossible long phantom scythe in its hands, its empty hollow pits locking its gaze on you. [[Run!|run upstairs]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kill_priestess to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">You don't need her running around this place telling people to look out for a woman with a blade who's looking for priests to kill. No, you decide to choke her until she passes out, ignoring her spasms as she struggles against you. With her body still, you decide the best course of action would be to disguise yourself with her robes. Just as you're about to begin, you feel a stranger sensation coming over you. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to stop what you're doing and go into the corridor... With a dry mouth, you stand up, then freeze in your tracks. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. Go into the corridor. Now. It's impossible to resist the urge... Something's controlling you as you take a step toward the door. Your legs feel light, your feet numb, as you open the door and enter the corridor outside. Then you find yourself sneaking down the corridor to the right, exactly where the woman told you to go. But you're not the one doing the walking... Your legs take you to a staircase by themselves... Your panic is increasing as you once again find yourself unable to resist, your legs taking you one step at a time higher, up the spiralling staircase. One floor. Another. A third. Then they halt. You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "fear_supernatural_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_AND_PENDULUM.png">The pain in your muscles threatens to overwhelm you as you fight against the unnatural force that makes you walk through the corridor. For each step you take, you feel less and less in control. Half-way through the corridor you stop, your sweat blinding you as you blink into a room to your left. The open door reveals an old man, strapped down onto a large stone altar, his body thin and frail. Chains keep him pinned down with his back against the altar, gazing up into the impossibly high ceiling. Above him, a massive ornate pendulum that looks like an upside down axe swings across the room, mere inches from his throat as it descends, then swinging safely to the other side, only to return once more. Yet, the man remains calm, unmoving. Behind him, a scribe is sitting hunched over a giant pile of papers, the sound of a pen interrupted only by the sweeping sound of the pendulum as it makes its way down over and over again. The strapped down man is speaking, almost like he's chanting in a religious fervour, and each word is meticulously documented by the scribe next to him. "In the days when nothing flourished, In the vast and silent darkness, This widowed writer witnessed, Blessed a last time by Her mercy, From the void, a stirring, shifting, Cosmic dust began to gather, Whirling in the yawning chasm, Breathing life into the stillness. From the dust the winds awakened, Blowing whispers through the darkness, Taking me gently to the white lands, Shapes emerging from shadows. Stardust weaving the first foundation, Winds carved out the seas and valleys, Glimmers of a distant sunrise Sparked the birth of sun and moonlight. Clouds were born from drifting vapor, Stars ignited from the embers, From the cosmic dust's embrace, Rose the heavens wide and boundless. Earth emerged from swirling darkness, Formed from fragments of the starlight, Shining bright in cosmic splendor, Spinning through the silent void. Then the waters filled the hollows, Seas and rivers, lakes and oceans, Mountains rose from rock and stardust, Forests sprouted, green and endless. From the dust, the winds, the silence, Life began its song of wonder, And from nothing, worlds were woven, In the dance of stars and shadows." [[Stunned, you remain in the doorway, unable to move a muscle as the man continues to speak...|death poet]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">Like a bolt of lightning, you're out into the corridor, the literal ghost of vengeance breathing down your neck. You run to your right, then up the spiral staircase... You've never run as fast in your life, relying solely on instinct as you rush through the corridor in the temple, and up three flights of stairs. At the top, you pause, exhausted, and slump down against a wall. By the abyssal hellfires... What the fuck has Piru signed you up for!? You close your eyes. Fuck this. Fuck it all. If a ghost wants to kill you, fine. You're done. This is too much... But no ghost appears. The corridor remains silent, the only sound echoing through it are your shallow breaths and your pounding heart. But amidst it all, a new sensation washes over you. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to stand up... With a dry mouth, you sit still, frozen in your tracks. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. Stand up. Don't just sit there. It's impossible to resist this urge... Something's controlling you as you stand up, your body not your own. In blind panic, you witness as your body moves by itself, unable to resist the urge. You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_AND_PENDULUM.png">"Please forgive me, for I have only two faces. One is for the world, And one is for my God. Save me. I'm blind to the world's deep, Blind in the shadow of creation, By the lurking venom, Hiding in the swirling chaos. In the void it stalks in silence, Sealed beneath the earth's crust, Biding time and hungering, For the spark of mortals. Thirsting for mankind's radiance, Craving the light of soul and spirit. It cannot cry. Its soul is empty. It cannot die. Like a whore for the cold world. Shadows slaying the dreamer. The darkness never slumbers, Dreams of breaking out. Humanity is a failed experiment. Walking the path to extinction. Just watch them crawl. They're on a march of the damned." He stirs and becomes silent, and soon the sound of the scribe's pen disappears, leaving only the sound of the pendulum as it swings from side to side. The old man's voice grows darker, louder, as he adds: "Who goes there, beyond my chamber? A soul that walks in shadows, Wielding a leash of infernal chains, Not unlike my own... I see it clearly now. A second robber to the light of God, A usurper come to ascend, Just like She once did. Oh, how the world will rejoice today, When the crows feast on this rotting poet. For Her wrath will scorch me, For seeing the truth. And you, stalker in shadows, You too shall burn in infernal flames. ... She is here, the Ascended..." A narrow, brilliant white beam of light illuminates the room, blinding the poet. He screams in agony, and even from this distance you can hear the sickening sound of his eyes boiling and popping. They burst in an instant. Then a loud mechanical and distinct *click* echoes through the chamber. The pendulum swings back, slightly lower than before... Blood drenches the altar and the scribe red when the blade neatly severs the poet's throat, his body collapsing, head flying across the room. It rolls on the floor toward you and comes to a stop, his empty eye-sockets staring at you, pinning you with their gaze even in blind death. In mute horror you witness the scribe finishing her sentences without a care in the world, even as the piles of paper around her have been drenched in blood. Then you feel it again, the pull of the force, urging you back through the corridor... The scribe slowly turns her gaze your way, but doesn't say a word. You're left wondering what you just witnessed... [[Your head is spinning as you're forced further into the temple against your will...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <<set $ch7_almost_go_for_kill to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The harrowing vision of the poet is soon behind you as the power urging you on forces you down the corridor. The tingling sensation on your skin is beginning to feel comforting, familiar. Like home. You ascend once more, up another staircase. Three floors. There are no more interruptions, the corridor and stairs empty as you make your way all the way to the top of a tower. A thick gilded door blocks your path. Behind you is the narrow spiraling staircase you came up through. To your right is a window overlooking Valkama, casting a warm light into the room, which makes the gold of the door shine and glitter brilliantly. The door opens before you touch it, seemingly by itself, but no one greets you. You approach, realizing you're once again fully in control of your own body, the power no longer guiding you or forcing you to step into the room. Every inch of your being tells you to be cautious, to be ready for anything, yet you need to go in here... You take a few tentative steps into the room. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows surround the space, which looks like a study or a library, richly decorated with stained glass. The scenes depicted range from mundane, to otherworldly, painting a picture of the creation of the world and the complicated nature of the God of Mercy's attitude toward humanity. The grandeur of the room makes you feel like an unwelcome guest, an ant. Insignificant in the grand cosmic wheel of things. A figure is standing a few feet away from you, gazing out through one of the stained glass windows. He is a tall and thin old man, his long grey hair reaching all the way to his hips, knotted in a neat pattern. He's wearing finer robes than on any priest you've seen so far. There's an undeniable aura of authority about him. Your instinct tells you that this is Jokna.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> Your target. The one Piru warned you about.<</if>><<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>> Opettaille is on his knees, deep in prayer, a bit further away in the room.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> Your second target.<</if>><</if>> Jokna has his back to you, and doesn't seem to be aware of your presence. Or at least he's pretending not to... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[This could be your only chance to kill him before he speaks. Make your move.]]<<else>>[[Curious, you approach the elder of the temple.|approach Jokna]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Curiosity gets the better of you. Approach the elder of the temple.|approach Jokna]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_almost_go_for_kill to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The infernal dagger sears hot in your hand, burning your skin. In a quick dashing motion, you spring into action. The elder, Jokna, doesn't move a muscle as you approach. This is too easy... When you're standing behind him and reach up to grab him, he turns around. You feel time and space pausing around you in the split second when your gazes meet, your dagger ready to strike. His eyes look down at you, his features soft and somehow familiar. It looks like he's sad, piercing you with his gaze. Those green eyes look into your soul, and his shoulders relax. He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. "Do it, Taru." He whispers, defeated, a warmth in his voice you did not expect... [[Complete your task. Plunge the dagger into his heart.|kill Jokna]] [[Stay your hand and disengage, confused.|approach Jokna]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The elder of the temple, Jokna, faces you as you stand there, merely a few feet from him. <<if $ch7_almost_go_for_kill is false>>His eyes look down at you, his features soft and somehow familiar. It looks like he's sad, piercing you with his gaze. Those green eyes look into your soul, and his shoulders relax. "Greetings, Taru." he says, his voice carrying loud and clear.<</if>> <<if $ch7_almost_go_for_kill is true>>"By the Gods, old man! Go for it!? Do you want to die?"<<else>>"Jokna? Who..."<</if>> you begin to ask, confused. "Ah, child. You have no idea how sorry I am." Jokna says, his eyes searching yours for what you realize is forgiveness. "Why, you look just like your mother..." He adds, his voice beaming with pride for the shortest of moments. "You knew my mother...?" You ask, gazing up at the tall old man towering a full feet above you. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>The infernal bone dagger is forgotten in your hand, silent and cool.<</if>> Now it is Jokna's turn to look surprised. "I thought you were here to... Ah, I see. She didn't tell you, did she?" He asks, further confusing you. [[What does he mean?]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png"><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>In the back of your head you hear Piru's warning. His words are snares... But you ignore those concerns. <</if>>"Spill it, old man. Told me what?" You press him, suddenly impatient, feeling angry and confused. "Taru, my dear... This is going to be a lot to take in... That your mother, Tyrni Nopsa, is my beloved daughter." His smile is warm, genuine. No... Those green eyes, the shape of the nose... You can see the smallest hint of your mother's familiar face in Jokna's features. Your eyes grow wide... [[He's your... Grandfather?]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[He's clearly lying. Piru warned you not to let him speak. Kill him now...|kill Jokna]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png"><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Piru warned you about this man... <</if>>No, he cannot be who he says. Your mother would've told you about him, surely. These are all lies. With a frustrated grunt, you attempt to stand up, but find your legs immobile. Your arms too, no matter how hard you thrash and twist your body. Something is holding you here, but you cannot see any ropes or chains pinning you down. "Hmm. Just like your mother. Stubborn, and hard to convince. Usually a good quality. To be sceptical, I mean. Well, why don't you sit and relax for a while. I'm sure you have a million questions, Taru. I don't know how much your mother has told you, but I'll try to shed some light on everything." Your supposed grandfather says as he stands up, holds his hands in front of him and leans against the desk in front of you. Whatever magic urged you to walk up here is now forcing you to sit still, unable to move a muscle... [[You have no choice but to listen...|listen to Jokna]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">A deep frown full of sorrow comes over Jokna, but he slowly nods. "I know. I wasn't here to protect her..." His voice trails off, and he looks truly remorseful. Guilty even, like he is the one to blame for her death. "I'm sure you have a million questions, Taru. I don't know how much your mother has told you, but I'll try to shed some light on everything." Jokna, your supposed grandfather, says as he stands up, holds his hands in front of him and leans against the desk in front of you Finally, someone with answers... [[You listen to what he has to say.|listen to Jokna]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Let me start from the very beginning... Just interrupt me if it sounds familiar and I'll skip the details." Jokna begins and clears his throat. "Well, to start: Did you know that your mother was once part of a secretive group of Snow Witches, worshippers of Louhi, an ancient being also known as the Queen of Witches?" You've never heard of this, and when you slowly shake your head, Jokna continues. "They only allowed women among their ranks, and just like all others in that sect, she was born into it. Her mother, your grandmother, was as fierce as the raging seas when we met... We shared a passionate and wild night of love when we were young. Oh, so young... But we parted ways in a mutual understanding. I was a young man, a scholar you see, with a life of academia ahead of him. And she was a Snow Witch, almost like a force of nature, untameable. Oh yes, this all happened before I became a priest. Much earlier." His voice trails off, a look of distant nostalgia on his face as he reminisces of days long gone. "Your grandmother, Pihlaja was her name, told me the night we parted ways that if she was pregnant with a boy, she would seek me out and I would have to take care of the child. But if she was pregnant with a girl, I would never hear from her again... And so it was. True to her word, I never met your grandmother again. Years passed, my days in academia ended. But I wasn't done exploring the world, you see. It was then I took a holy vow, out of curiosity. But I never forgot her." He smiles at the memory. He made a holy vow... Because he was curious? What a strange reason to become a priest... [[In silence, you let him continue his story.|In silence, you let him continue his story.]] [[Nod for him to continue.|In silence, you let him continue his story.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Your mother found me, years later. Maybe her mother told her about me, kept an eye on me all those years? Or maybe Tyrni, as a witch herself, had ways of scrying my whereabouts. Regardless, one day, she was at the temple's doorsteps, pounding on the door. In my bones I immediately knew who she was, for somehow I could recognize my daughter. Even though we'd never met." He shakes his head at the memory. "She was just as fierce and determined as her mother, that's for sure. She stormed right in, like she owned the place. Demanded an audience." Jokna laughs. "She was a grown woman already, just over thirty years of age. And wise beyond her years, like she'd lived and walked the earth for centuries. She told me about you, a little baby girl she was taking care of all by herself. No longer sheltered by the snow witches and her kin. For you see, she brought news to me that I wasn't ready to hear, Taru. Her mother, along with everyone else in her sect, had been massacred. The cult of The Fathomless Hunger had finally won a centuries old feud, leaving nothing but ashes in their wake. The Queen of Witches herself, slain." You can see real regret and sadness in his eyes. "Call it luck, or divine influence, but your mother wasn't with the sect at the time of the attack. Indeed, she later explained to me that she had parted ways with the Snow Witches a year before. The same day she found out she was going to have you. She told me life in the sect wasn't easy, and she did not want to raise you in an environment like that. Her tiny act of rebellion, of wanting something different for you, saved her life that day - and yours." He looks proud, and there's a hint of a smile on his lips. [[Jokna continues his tale.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"You know... I could've sworn I sensed your mothers presence when you walked in. But I realize now it's just the familiar stench of the Infernal Realm... Oh, Taru, how truly sorry I am for not being here to save you from Piru's schemes... I woefully underestimated the ambition and appetite of an archdemon. You see, your mother too was sworn to that same devil when we met, all those years ago." Finally something that sounds familiar. "I know. Piru has eagerly pointed this out to me..." You manage to say, confirming Jokna's suspicions. "Ah, so that isn't news to you, that's good to hear. I'm quite curious to hear what drove you to such desperate measures... But all in due time. Do you know why your mother chose to pledge herself to Piru in the first place?" Jokna asks, his long grey beard resting on the desk as he speaks. Slowly, you nod thoughtfully. "She was looking for a way to fight the cult..." Your voice is but a whisper, but Jokna's eyes lit up. "Precisely! Even though she'd abandoned them, they were her family. And when she found out they were gone... Why she made an unholy vow to seek revenge in the cult of The Fathomless Hunger, and the abyss itself. But what could a lone Snow Witch like her accomplish, where an entire sect had failed? Indeed. She needed power. And so she sought aid from a most unwise ally - an archdemon prince, Piru. And she did this before she contacted me, you know... Just like you have..." He doesn't judge you. Doesn't scold you. Doesn't sound disappointed. Yet there's a deep sadness in his voice, one that is directed inward at himself, not at you. After a moment of silence, he shrugs, then continues with a calm voice: "Her plans to exact revenge on the cult weren't yielding the results she'd hoped for, however... Despite the power she bargained for from Piru, the cult proved cunning, rooted deep into Valkama's society and shadows. Like mushrooms on a rainy autumn day, cultists seemed to be appearing everywhere she looked, from the smallest of cracks. All this she told me when we first met, but that is not the reason why she sought me out. Indeed, what she wanted help with was Piru. Her pact. She wanted out, and had exhausted all other options. She was alone in a world with enemies all around her." Jokna shakes his head. "I was glad to see her, of course, after all those years. A chance to reunite with my daughter... But it's just as bittersweet as our meeting now, Taru. Misfortune and misery seems to follow our family, wherever we go..." Jokna's voice trails off, his gaze finding the stained glass windows for a brief moment, before he returns his gaze to you. [[You can sense there's a lot more he wants to tell you.]] [[Encourage him to keep talking.|You can sense there's a lot more he wants to tell you.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">Jokna continues his tale: "We set to work, your mother and I, and over the years we did a lot of research. It felt like I was back in academia, head buried in texts day in and day out. And I was doing it with my daughter at my side. You were a child then, and I doubt you recall those late nights at the libraries." He's indeed right, you have no recollection of him or these events. "I used my influence as a high ranking member here at the temple to get my hands on forbidden tomes, to read evil scrolls that should be destroyed, and gained access to the royal library where only likes of Colematoin himself have had the privilege of walking. But I could see your mother growing thinner before my eyes, every year. The strain of physically fighting the cult and mentally fighting Piru's influence were taking a toll on her." Jokna closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "The last time I saw her was a year before she died... We had learned of a way to break her pact, but as long as Piru still walked this earth, she wouldn't be safe. And so I had to find answers, had to find a way to rid the world of his influence for good. I'm ashamed to say I wasn't here to protect your mother when she needed me the most..." Jokna's voice trails off. [[Let him continue without interrupting.|You stare in disbelief at Jokna pre]] <<set $linkText to "\"You should've been there...\"">>[[$linkText|You stare in disbelief at Jokna pre]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">When it's clear you're too shocked to form a coherent sentence or question, Jokna continues his tale: "My research did yield results, after many years of digging in ancient ruins in the Obsidian Deserts. Well... I should say, possibly yielded results... I uncovered an artifact allegedly crafted for the explicit purpose of slaying an archdemon. A talisman of ill omen, a portent of doom. Alas, it was too late for you mother... But Taru, it's yours, should you ever find yourself in a position to use it..." Jokna places a small object on the table in front of you. It's a dark metallic pendant, hanging from a thin black chain. It's the size and shape of a coin. Etched upon its surface is a fiery red pentagram that glows hot with infernal malice. Jokna flips the pendant, revealing the other side: An metallic eye bulging out of the coin. Its sclera is the deepest midnight black, absorbing all light. Its iris is cold blue and radiates frost, making a cold fog rise from the eye as it stares at you, unblinking. Jokna quickly flips the pendant down again, hiding the disturbing eye. Yet the sight of the glowing pentagram doesn't put you at ease either. "What the hell is that thing..." You ask, staring at the pendant. "Something from hell indeed. According to the texts I found, this is a weapon of sorts, created by archdemons. It changes the nature of a mortal carrying it, corrupting their very essence, making them almost like an archdemon in all but appearence. I believe this allows them to mortally wound a devil. Even an archdemon, or the king of demons. And I think it has been used before, in the twisted schemes of the archdemons, to usurp ranks. Wielded by mortal blades, yet always orchestrated and controlled by demons... And then lost in time. Until now." The pendant is ominously illuminating the room with the glow from the infernal pentagram etched into its side. "You're saying it changes whoever carries it...?" You ask, reaching out, your hand almost touching the blasphemous object. "Indeed, but not permanently, nor visibly. Think of it as a more profound kind of change, which severs your tie to the mortal bloodlines, and temporarily makes you an archdemon's spawn instead. However, I should add that this artifact does not sever a pact between a demon and a mortal. A mortal in service of a demon still cannot slay their master, for their pledge prevents them from doing so... However, if you managed to break your pact... Then all you need to do is carry this artifact and your strikes will be lethal to an archdemon. In theory, at least..." Piru would certainly be furious if he found this artifact on you... Assuming that he knows what it is. But this could be a necessary tool for you to get rid of Piru once and for all, if you manage to break your pact with him... [[Reach out and take the pendant...|take the pendant]] [[Refuse to accept the blasphemous artifact...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"I cannot accept this artifact..." You explain, shaking your head in fear. If Piru finds out that you're planning to kill him... Jokna slams his palm into the table, startling you. "Taru! Listen to me. You must kill Piru if you're to break free from him for good! Even if you manage to break your pledge, he will never stop hunting you. He will send mortal assassins your way, and one day, they will find you. You cannot run from this." Jokna's voice is stern and hard. All he says may be true... When you still hesitate, Jokna adds: "Don't be afraid of Piru." He places a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. "What would your mother do in your shoes?" He looks at you with his big green eyes, those that so remind you of your mother... [[He's right. You need this artifact. Grab the pendant...|take the pendant]] [[No. Your decision is final. You will not risk it.]]

<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>><script>window.TaruLastPledge.showJournalIcon("true");</script><</if>><<silently>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>> <<addQuestTaskFunction $QIDDemonPledge "t10" $QIDDemonPledge_t10>> <<set $ch7_swear_to_kill_piru to true>> <</if>> <<set $ch7_grab_pendant to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">With a shaking hand, you reach out over the table. The pendant feels both ice cool and burning hot to your touch, yet it doesn't hurt. With an encouraging nod from Jokna, you pocket the artifact, hiding it in one of your hidden pockets. Its coldness radiates through the fabric onto your skin, and disturbingly you can feel the eye moving... With a flip you change the pendant so that the hot pentagram is touching you instead... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>Silently, you promise to yourself that you will kill Piru if you get a chance...<</if>> [[You hope this decision won't come back and haunt you.|proceed Jokna]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_grab_pendant to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You shake your head. "I can't risk it. I'm sorry." The silence between you says it all, and with a deep sigh, Jokna grabs the pendant and hides it in a drawer in the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. "Very well... But I sincerely hope you know what you're doing, Taru..." He says, shaking his head. [[You also hope you know what you're doing.|proceed Jokna]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You're the first to break the silence. "How come my mother never mentioned you? And why did you never try to find me, contact me...?" Jokna's expression softens, an amused look on his face. "Well, I quite literally just returned from my pilgrimage. Today, in fact. I have been away over a decade... Besides, my sources tell me that you would've been rather hard to find, hmm? You're somewhat of an elusive and infamous figure in the underground world, aren't you?" There's a glint in his eyes and he has a mischievous smile on his lips. Suddenly, you're feeling embarrassed. Here you are, a thief and assassin, criminal to your very core. And your grandfather is a high ranking priest of the God of Mercy. Holy hells, what a nightmare... "I uh... I suppose that's a fair assessment..." You managed, not too eager to share the details of your criminal life. So, he has known about you this entire time, but only now returned from his journey in the southern kingdoms... [[He really is your grandfather, isn't he? Hug him tightly...|hug]] [[He may be your grandfather, but you don't know this man.|sceptical]] [[You're unsure if he really is your grandfather. But so far, he's providing valuable information....|sceptical]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">For now, you choose to continue your discussion with him. He may or may not be your grandfather, but what's certain is that he is a stranger. Regardless if you share blood or not. You decide to dig deeper and ask: [["But how did mom die?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_piano">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">In that moment you suddenly feel an overwhelming sensation of being small and vulnerable. Yet you also feel like you're finally home. Jokna doesn't have time to react when you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He hums, his voice like a deep drum in his chest as you bury yourself into his fine robes, his grey beard tickling you as you continue hugging your grandfather. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tight, and for a long while neither of you say a word. You're lost in his arms, suddenly feeling the weight of everything that's happened lift from your shoulders for just a brief moment. And your thoughts go to your mother, happy memories that almost bring tears to your eyes. You feel the pain of losing her in your chest. You miss her. [[You lose track of time for a moment.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">Minutes go by with ease in his embrace. When you finally disengage and look up, you see tears in the old man's eyes. He smiles down at you and wipes the tears that have wetted his cheeks. Eventually, you find the strength to ask: [["But how did mom die?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_silent">> <<set $ch7_almost_ask_about_father to false>> <<set $ch7_truth_about_father to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">He's already told you so much, but not what you wanted to hear... "But how did mom die? I've heard pieces here and there, but I just don't know what's true... I can't paint a clear picture." You ask Jokna, who raises an eyebrow. "Ah... I actually thought you could enlighten me. Damn it..." He twirls his fingers into his beard, deep in thought. "What I know is that your mother tried to break her pact with Piru while I was gone. Whether she succeeded or not, I do not know with certainty. She had all the information she needed: The necessary ritual and most likely help from Opettaille. But the man seems to have lost his memory. He appears to have no recollection of Tyrni, Piru or the ritual. Indeed of anything that happened before. Did the ritual fail, causing an arcane backlash? Curious indeed... And why did she do the ritual without waiting for me? I cannot say. Maybe she grew impatient. Maybe something forced her hand. Maybe Piru was proving impossible to appease. Whatever the case, I was far from here when she attempted to break the pact. All I know is that she was found dead... Floating in the harbor, half-eaten by sharks..." "Well, fuck. That's as much as I'd gathered..." You reply, sighing loudly. "She was very secretive about it all, you know. Piru. The cult. She never told me a thing." Jokna clearly senses your frustration. "That sounds like your mother, alright. Stubborn. Always wanting to do things her way. Bless her soul. No doubt she wanted to shield you from the nightmare she was living through. And yet, here you are, walking in her shoes... History does have a cruel way of repeating itself, doesn't it? Who knew the cycle could be so short..." All of this is a lot to take in... [[Curious, you ask about the man in the pendulum room.|pendulum room ask]] [[Enough chitchat... Discuss the abyss instead.|discuss abyss]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"I walked past a strange room on the way here... There was an old man, with a massive pendulum swinging above him... When I stopped to look, he talked directly to me. The his eyes burst and his head was chopped clean off..." You begin. Jokna nods, deep in thought. "Ah yes, the Poet and the Pendulum. For a moment there his will prevented me from guiding you here. It sounds like he saw something in you... Even after all these years, the man's mind has remained strong." Jokna explains. "However, it's good to hear that he finally found peace." He adds. Your confused look prompts Jokna to explain further. "He's been strapped to that altar for decades, bringing visions or guidance from the God of Mercy to a dozen scribes, one of whom always sits by his side. Whether any wisdom has been gathered from him at all during this time, I don't know. Is it the word of God, or the ramblings of a man gone mad for being close to death thousands of times a day, for years?" Jokna shrugs. "But why would anyone choose to do it...? To lie there, for any amount of time? Let alone years and decades..." You ask, unable to comprehend the motivation. "Does religious madness need a reason?" Jokna retorts, an amused look on his face and a challenging tone in his voice. His comment comes as a surprise to you. "I suppose not... But that doesn't sound like something a priest would say. No, it rather sounds like you don't approve of the practice." You comment, a challenge in your own tone. But Jokna's smile widens. "Indeed. I think a lot of the rituals and practices here are outdated, unnecessary and quite frankly shameful. If I could change things overnight, I would. But I can't. Some changes take years to happen. Or centuries, when discussing religious practices and beliefs." He shrugs. "So wait, what's your title here at the temple? A high priest? How high, exactly?" You ask, genuinely curious. He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I am merely an Elder High Priest. One who once held a prestigious rank, but who now only has an honorary position. Think of it as a retirement, but your opinion is still valued." [[Ask what the Poet meant with his words.]] [[Ask about your father.|discuss your father]] [[You don't care about your father. Discuss the abyss instead.|discuss abyss]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"You're right... He has indeed given me power..." You begin and nervously pace the room. "Can you explain the details of your pact? And how did you end up pledged to the demon anyway?" Jokna asks, crossing his arms. [[Tell him everything...]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[['"The details do not matter... He wants you and Opettaille dead."'|he wants jokna dead]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"The Poet said some unnerving things..." You begin, then recount as best as you can what you heard. Jokna looks thoughtful. "If you're trying to siphon wisdom from his words, I would encourage caution." Jokna says after a moment. "Your presence no doubt influenced his visions greatly, to such a degree that he described Piru and the demons..." He scratches his beard in thought. "Humanity is a frail species compared to the Gods. And as soon as we're born, we're dying. It's an inevitability that death, and our extinction, awaits us." Jokna shrugs. "But it does sound like the God of Mercy was watching you, and judging you, for the darkness within you. Even going so far as to kill Her own Poet just for peering into your mind." "Before his head was severed... He said that he saw the truth. And that His God's wrath would scorch him for doing so, which She did: His eyes burst from an intense beam of light..." Your words are met with silence. Finally, Jokna seems at a loss for words. "That is most curious..." He manages to mumble into his beard, a deep furrow on his brow. "It sounds like whatever truth the Poet might have gleamed in his final moments were important for the God of Mercy. Things she did not want him to repeat... But this is not what we're here to discuss today, Taru. We would be wise to drop the subject. Poking into such matters is sure to earn the scorn of the God of Mercy. Besides, it's quite safe to assume that these were merely the ramblings of a madman. Meaningless in the grand scheme of things." If he is concerned, he doesn't show it, and you decide to drop the subject for now... After all, you're far out of your comfort zone discussing religious visions and the ramblings of a madman. However, at least you got a small explanation of what the man might've been trying to say. You find yourself nodding in silence at Jokna's explanation, your thoughts going back to yourself and your own predicament... [[Ask about your father.|discuss your father]] [[You don't care about your father. At all. Discuss the abyss instead.|discuss abyss]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You tell him about the gang, the contract, the ambush and the cult. You tell him about an impossible decision, your pledge and escape, and the details of your pact. You tell him about the infernal dagger. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>That you're Piru's assassin, tasked to kill him and Opettaille. <</if>>That you probably need to steal the writ of the pact to break free, according to some doomed souls in the hells. And the fact that Piru wants to seal away the abyss, and usher in an age of demons. Jokna doesn't judge you when you tell your tale, nor does he scold you. When you're done, he lets out a long sigh. "Thank you for sharing your story, Taru." <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[He doesn't look surprised.|he wants jokna dead]]<<else>>[[To your surprise, he smiles.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_get_scroll_with_ritual to true>> <<set $ch7_warning_about_abyss_pull_from_jokna to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png"><<if $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille is true>>You still cannot fathom that Jokna would kill Opettaille in cold blood before your eyes, without hesitating for a moment.... And now<<else>>Now<</if>> he wants you to finish what you've started... "What... But what about the Abyss!? Saving my soul! And breaking my pledge to Piru... I can't do all of this alone!" You protest, despair filling you. "You can and you must. If you leave this temple without killing me, Piru will know about it. Immediately. You will have disobeyed your contract, and he will win. He would have complete power over you. To do anything. You'd be lucky if he killed you on the spot." Jokna calmly explains, but you barely register what he's saying... Then he adds with a sad smile: "I fear you don't have much time left until the abyss consumes you, Taru... But you've got to stay strong. If you feel its pull, you need to push it away. With all you've got. Understand? You cannot let it sink its claws into you..." But all you can do is stare at him, not understanding... "But isn't there anyone who can help me at the temple, anyone I can talk to... Just point me in the right direction..." You mumble in an attempt to find some clarity. But Jokna shakes his head once again. "No, Taru. You've been fortunate to have dealt with Opettaille and me. If you told the others, they would simply bathe you in holy fire and scatter your ashes to the wind. I cannot help you, not can anyone else at the temple. You're on your own." His words are hard like iron, the truth stinging like a blade shoved between your ribs... "You don't have much time, Taru. I can sense the temple stirring below. They know an assassin is here, and it's only a matter of time before the temple guards burst through that door. I can offer you one last guidance when it comes to Piru, however: You need the writ of the pact. When you have that, safely here in the mortal realm, you can break your pledge with a cleansing ritual. The details are in this scroll..." You glance behind at the door leading to the tower, then with shaking hands, accept the small wooden cylinder. "Within are all the details you need." Jokna explains as you slide the capsa into one of your hidden pockets. After a long confused moment, you finally find yourself saying... [["I understand what I must do."]] [["I don't understand..."]]

<<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>><script>window.TaruLastPledge.showJournalIcon("true");</script><</if>><<silently>> <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>><<completeQuestFunction $QIDDemonPledge "t5">><</if>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_night">> <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to true>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">He doesn't look too surprised. "I see... Piru, true to his cruel nature, has made you his mortal blade? Tasked to hunt down me and Opettaille, and others, for helping your mother break her pact...?" His voice trails off. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>>His gaze finds the kneeling Opettaille at the other side of the room, ominously silent and unmoving.<</if>> Jokna finally nods and says with a strange calm: "I knew this day would come. Crossing Piru is a perilous undertaking. Hence the need for the artifact... Well, we can't go back in time to undo any of this. Let's focus on what lies ahead..." How can he say that, after what you just said?? "What lies ahead...?" You ask, uncertain what he means. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is false>>Jokna doesn't answer you. Instead he walks up to the kneeling Opettaille, then takes out a sharp knife from his robes. In mute horror you witness Jokna slicing Opettaille's throat, who doesn't move a muscle. His blood paints the stone floor red. Then, a moment later, he falls down face-first with a sickening crack from his skull hitting the floor. Dead. "That's one out of the way." Jokna says, calm. Cold. <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>"He was helping me break my pact..." you begin to protest. But Jokna shakes his head and waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "We cannot help you break your pact, Taru. Not when you have agreed to be his assassin, and us the victims. I'm afraid you'll have to find a way yourself." His voice is full of pain, but his expression is hard.<</if>> <</if>>"You have to finish what you started. You must obey your pledge to Piru, for now, or else you'll have no chance of ever escaping. I cannot help you..." [[He's got to be joking...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_neutral">> <<set $ch7_get_scroll_with_ritual to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"You're more cunning than your mother, managing to renegotiate your terms like that. It couldn't have been easy. Well done indeed! But I wonder if he hasn't got another assassin... A devil never leaves a grudge unsettled..." Jokna's smile turns into a thoughtful silence. Another assassin? The thought hadn't even occurred to you... "We need to move fast. Strike with precision, if we're to break the pact." Jokna adds, finally bringing your hopes up. "Wait, we can do this...? Free me from Piru's influence?" Your relief soon turns sour when Jokna explains: "Not quite yet. As you suspected, we need the writ of the pact. When we have that, safely here in the mortal realm, we can break your pledge with a cleansing ritual. Seek me, here at the temple, when you have it. I have written the details in this scroll, should anything happen to me before then..." With shaking hands, you accepted the small wooden cylinder. "Within are all the details you need." Jokna explains as you slide the capsa into one of your hidden pockets. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems... "That's it? I steal the writ?" Well... How hard can it be? "I have no idea how your mother managed to do it. But the two of you have altogether different talents indeed. It's not going to be easy, however. Should he find out... Well, let's just say that any protection offered by your pledge to him are off the table..." Jokna's concern is evident. His thus far calm and collected expression betrays a deep worry for you, for what lies ahead of you. Panic suddenly fills your chest. "Piru is probably listening to us right now..." Fuck... But Jokna's calm expression returns. "A devil cannot reach us in here. Trust me. One of the first things we did with your mother was to ward this tower from all evil. No devils, abyssal terror or otherworldly figures can head us. Well, except the God of Mercy." That does put you at easy... But just a tiny bit. Jokna surprises you when he asks: "Show me that infernal blade of yours." Now it's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why...?" Your fingers find the hilt, blade safely sealed into its sheath. "I can sense a tormented soul within. We could offer it relief." Jokna explains. [[End the suffering of a tormented soul? Sure, why not...|non-assassin cleanse dagger]] [[You'd rather not risk messing with the dagger and make Piru angry.|non-assassin not risk]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Fine... Let's spread some good into the world while we're here." You comment and draw out your infernal bone dagger from its sheath. The hellish runes glow with malice when you hand the dagger to Jokna, hilt first. Gingerly, the elder priest and your grandfather accepts the dagger. He's holding it like it's a fragile piece of glass and closes his eyes. With his right hand, he hovers over the blade, while his left gently holds the hilt. "This twisted soul is in great pain, Taru. I cannot say who or what this was in life, for what remains is but a husk. I can sense that it's a powerful being, holding oceans of hatred within it..." He explains. A soft white glow surrounds the dagger, radiating from Jokna's open palm. All the colors of the rainbow dance across the surface of the dagger. "Piru still has a small leash on this beast... But we can give it peace. We can break it free from Piru's influence." Jokna adds. It appears he's waiting for your approval... "Will the dagger lose any of its... Power?" You ask, but Jokna shakes his head. "If anything, it'll make it stronger, when it doesn't have to live under Piru's boot." [['"Do it."'|assassin cleanse final]] <<set $linkText to "\"Don't do it. Piru might find out.\"">>[[$linkText|assassin not risk]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">It pains you to say it, but it's true. Jokna is right. There's just one way through this... Jokna needs to die. Your grandfather nods, a warm yet sad smile on his lips. "Just like your mother. Wise beyond your years..." Jokna muses. "But we only just met... Is there no other way?" You ask, desperate to find an alternative solution. But Jokna shakes his head. "Unless you want to end up dead, like your mother... I suggest not crossing Piru. No, Taru. You must kill me, and continue serving Piru, until you have a chance to escape and break your pact. You must lose this battle, to win the war." When you silently nod, he knows you've understood the truth. But then Jokna surprises you when he asks: "Before we proceed with this grizzly business... Show me that infernal blade of yours." Now it's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why...?" Your fingers find the hilt, blade safely sealed into its sheath. "I can sense a tormented soul within. We could offer it relief." Jokna explains. "We have time for that...?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. "This will only take a few seconds..." He assures you, holding out his hand. [[End the suffering of a tormented soul? Sure, why not...]] [[You'd rather not risk messing with the dagger and make Piru angry.|assassin not risk]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You just can't wrap your head around what's happening. What he's saying. Your grandfather has a warm yet sad smile on his lips. "I can't blame you. It's not every day someone asks you to take their life." Jokna says. Slowly, it dawns on you. Jokna wants you to kill him. To go through with the pact you've sworn to Piru. Your expression must've betrayed your thoughts, for Jokna nods. "But we only just met... Is there no other way?" You ask, desperate to find an alternative solution. But Jokna shakes his head. "Unless you want to end up dead, like your mother... I suggest not crossing Piru. No, Taru. You must kill me, and continue serving Piru, until you have a chance to escape and break your pact. You must lose this battle, to win the war." When you silently nod, he knows you've understood the truth. But then he surprises you when he asks: "Before we proceed with this grizzly business... Show me that infernal blade of yours." Now it's your turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why...?" Your fingers find the hilt, blade safely sealed into its sheath. "I can sense a tormented soul within. We could offer it relief." Jokna explains. "We have time for that...?" You ask with a raised eyebrow. "This will only take a few seconds..." He assures you, holding out his hand. [[End the suffering of a tormented soul? Sure, why not...]] [[You'd rather not risk messing with the dagger and make Piru angry.|assassin not risk]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_unknown">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The strangely immobile Opettaille remains silent, kneeling in what appears to be a prayer. Or sleep. The two of you approach him... Here's the man who has tormented you at the church, all in the name of promising salvation. And all this time, he didn't know you were Tyrni's daughter? Jokna's granddaughter? Would it have mattered to him? "Opettaille's dementia on the subject of demons, and false promises to help breaking you free from the abyss... It's clear that you do not need him. We do not need him. No. Instead, he's been lying to you about what he can do, and taking advantage of you." He pauses, glances your way. "Opettaille has always had an unsavoury side to him. One which his sudden loss of memory did not cure." Jokna begins. "Did he force himself on you? Made you do things you were not comfortable doing...? All in the name of God and salvation, promising a cure, even when he had no idea what a it meant?" Your gaze finds Opettaille, who still remains eerily still.<<if $ch3_spanked_by_opettaille is true>> You recall how he had you bending over the altar, spanking you.<</if>><<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>> And how he pierced your eyes with a cruel torture device...<</if>><<if $ch7_back_is_bloody is true>> And most recently, how he made you whip yourself bloody...<</if>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse is true>> How he had you strapped to the wooden horse...<</if>><<if $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille is true>> And how he "kindly" offered another way to salvation, by taking advantage of you while you were still in chains...<</if>> [[Slowly nod. Indeed, he has been abusing you...]] [[Shake your head. You'd rather forget about all of that.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Fine... Let's spread some good into the world while we're here." You comment and draw out your infernal bone dagger from its sheath. The hellish runes glow with malice when you hand the dagger to Jokna, hilt first. Gingerly, the elder priest and your grandfather accepts the dagger. He's holding it like it's a fragile piece of glass and closes his eyes. With his right hand, he hovers over the blade, while his left gently holds the hilt. "This twisted soul is in great pain, Taru. I cannot say who or what this was in life, for what remains is but a husk. I can sense that it's a powerful being, holding oceans of hatred within it..." He explains. A soft white glow surrounds the dagger, radiating from Jokna's open palm. All the colors of the rainbow dance across the surface of the dagger. "Piru still has a small leash on this beast... But we can give it peace. We can break it free from Piru's influence." Jokna adds. It appears he's waiting for your approval... "Will the dagger lose any of its... Power?" You ask, but Jokna shakes his head. "If anything, it'll make it stronger, when it doesn't have to live under Piru's boot." [['"Do it."'|non-assassin cleanse final]] <<set $linkText to "\"Don't do it. Piru might find out.\"">>[[$linkText|non-assassin not risk]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_cleanse_dagger to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">With your approval, Jokna proceeds with the cleansing ritual. The dagger glows hot, and the light from Jokna's palm blinds you with its brilliance. Is it your imagination, or do you hear a sigh of relief coming from the dagger...? And just like that, he's done. The infernal blade looks exactly the same. Jokna gives the dagger back to you, and to your touch it still feels hot. But somehow you get a sense that the soul within is grateful... Jokna breaks your train of thought when he says: "Before you go out into the world on your grand heist..." [[Jokna gestures toward the kneeling Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_cleanse_dagger to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">With your approval, Jokna proceeds with the cleansing ritual. The dagger glows hot, and the light from Jokna's palm blinds you with its brilliance. Is it your imagination, or do you hear a sigh of relief coming from the dagger...? And just like that, he's done. The infernal blade looks exactly the same. Jokna gives the dagger back to you, and to your touch it still feels hot. But somehow you get a sense that the soul within is grateful... Jokna breaks your train of thought when he says: "It's time, Taru. Do not grieve for an old man who has lived long and seen more than he should." His comment is followed by a deep silence that says more than a thousand words. He's right.... You cannot escape what needs to be done. [[Steel yourself and get it over with...]] [[With tears in your eyes, hug your grandfather. You're so sorry...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_cleanse_dagger to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"I don't want Piru finding out that I've messed with this blade. Could get me into a ton of trouble..." Your decision is final, and Jokna shrugs. "Very well. Perhaps you're right. Piru is, if nothing else, a cunning creature. I don't want more trouble to find you from my actions." Your head is spinning, refusing to accept what you need to do... Jokna breaks your train of thought when he says: "It's time, Taru. Do not grieve for an old man who has lived long and seen more than he should." His comment is followed by a deep silence that says more than a thousand words. He's right.... You cannot escape what needs to be done. [[Steel yourself and get it over with...]] [[With tears in your eyes, hug your grandfather. You're so sorry...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_piano">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Promise me one thing, Taru. Child of Tyrni." Jokna says when you take a determined step toward him. "Kill the devil bastard." You cannot make such a promise, but you nod to humor him. If you have the chance, you may try... Time will tell. Your infernal dagger is in your hand. "Go on. Right here..." Jokna says, taking your hands into his and moves the blade to his chest, just above his heart. "It's been an honor meeting you." He says, and pulls hard, forcing you to plunge the dagger into his chest. He pushes you away, then staggers a step back. Blood is pouring down his fine robes, and infernal dagger drinks it up, still in your hand. He gives you a last smile, then falls. Silent. His body still. [[Jokna is dead.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_piano">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">It's a bittersweet hug when you throw yourself at your grandfather. He embraces you and the world disappears around you in a blurry mess, with tears in your eyes. The cruelty of meeting him, then minutes later being forced by an infernal pact to slay your own kin... Gods, the evil in Piru's heart knows no bounds. No wonder he didn't want you to talk to Jokna, to let him "snare you with his words". What a bunch of bullshit. The words of truth. About who he is. Deep in your own thoughts, you fail to notice Jokna's hand. Until it's too late. When he coughs, you're alerted to what he's done. He pushes you away, then staggers a step back. Blood is pouring down his fine robes, and a dagger is protruding from his chest<<if $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille is true>>, the same he used to slice Opettaille's throat.<</if>>. "You're on your own now... Child of Tyrni, my granddaughter..." He coughs again, filling his mouth with blood. With bloody teeth, he adds with a whisper. "Kill the bastard..." Then he falls, silent, his body still. [[Jokna is dead.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_grab_pendant to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You cannot let Piru get away with this. With shaking hands, you reach into the drawer where Jokna placed the pendant. The infernal pentagram greets you when you open the drawer. The artifact feels both ice cool and burning hot to your touch, yet it doesn't hurt. With a last look at the silent Jokna, you pocket the artifact, hiding it in one of your hidden pockets. Its coldness radiates through the fabric onto your skin, and disturbingly you can feel the eye moving... With a flip you change the pendant so that the hot pentagram is touching you instead. You'll use this, if you can... [[But you can't make any promises...]] [[Make a silent promise to Jokna that you'll kill Piru.]] [[Anger fills you. Swear to Jokna before all the Gods that you'll kill Piru.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You're about to leave the temple when shouting voices, the unmistakable rattle of chainmail and the clanking of steel on stone interrupt your thoughts. Temple guards. They're coming closer, like a tide. In a mild panic, you scan the room. Fuck! The only exit is through the door you came from... Then it swings open with force, and a dozen heavily armoured temple guards burst into the room. They're wielding tower shields, full plate armor and longswords, their features hidden by helmets. "There! The infernal assassin! Kill her!" One of them shouts and points at you with his longsword... [[Try to talk your way out of this...]] [[Fuck this! In a desperate measure, throw yourself out of the window, grappling hook in hand.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">When you nod, Jokna glances at Opettaille with something dark in his eyes. He looks angry. Not at you, but at Opettaille. "He has crossed a line... This is unforgivable." Jokna says, with venom in his voice. You're startled when Jokna draws a knife from his fine robes and presses the blade against Opettaille's throat. The man still does not move... "Just say the word, and I'll end his miserable life. You won't have to bloody your hands." Jokna says, waiting for your approval. He did treat you like garbage... And if Jokna's telling the truth, Opettaille had no knowledge or way of ever helping you, yet pretended like he did. To make you do the things he wanted... But you're shocked that Jokna, a priest of the God of Mercy, would be willing to murder another priest in cold blood. Right in the temple too... This side of him is dark, and for the first time you see the man he probably was before becoming a priest. Ruthless, but driven by passion. He wants to protect you, his kin, and take justice into his own hands. But killing Opettaille...? The thought is frightening. Jokna is right, of course: You don't need Opettaille... [[Nod. Let Jokna kill Opettaille for all the things he's done.]] [[Shake your head. Surely some other punishment is possible.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_punished to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">Jokna acknowledges your decision with a nod, and a curious smile on his lips. "Very well. His sins shall we forgiven." [[Ask about the abyss again.|proceed scene Jokna]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_swear_to_kill_piru to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">With a soft whisper, you tell Jokna: "Sorry... I just can't promise I'll kill Piru. I have no idea what he's capable of..." Feeling miserable, you finally leave the tower. [[Shouting voices from the staircase startles you...|Leave the temple...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_almost_ask_about_father to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You never thought you'd get a chance to ask someone about your father, someone who might actually know something... "You wouldn't happen to know who my father was? Or... is? And where he is?" Your question lingers in the air, but Jokna's sad expression hints at a disappointing answer. "I swore to your mother years ago that I wouldn't discuss the circumstances of your birth, or your father, with you... But seeing how she's dead... Are you sure you want to know? I'd be breaking my word to your mother." Jokna asks tentatively, like he's hiding the darkest of secrets. Well, now you're more curious than ever... But if your mother didn't want you to know, then maybe there's only pain to be found in the truth? [[Insist that he tells you.]] [[Forget about it. Discuss the abyss instead.|discuss abyss]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_silent">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png"><<if $ch7_almost_ask_about_father is true>><<if $ch7_truth_about_father is false>>"Alright... Let's respect my mother's wishes. She would've had her reasons..." You tell him with a heavy heart. <</if>><</if>>A part of you is afraid of telling Jokna about the abyss, and how it has a hold of your soul... But you need to discuss it with him. "You already know I'm up to my neck in a shit when it comes to Piru..." You begin and nervously pace the room. "I sensed you were bound to a contract with him as soon as you entered." Jokna retorts. "Well... There's something else too. Something you need to know. Unrelated to Piru." When Jokna raises an eyebrow you realize he hasn't sensed it yet. Hasn't sensed The Fathomless Hunger and its leash on your soul. "I've been claimed by the abyss. By The Fathomless Hunger." There. It's out. Jokna's shocked expression says it all. "What... But you're here. Alive... How?" [[Tell him everything.|tell about abyss]] [[Tell him only what he needs to know.|tell about abyss]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <<set $ch7_truth_about_father to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"She isn't here to tell me what to do. I need to know." You insist with crossed arms. Jokna sighs, but nods, accepting your call. "Very well..." He begins, then clearly pauses to search for the best way to tell you the seemingly profoundly complicated truth about your father. "Kirous. That was his name. Let's start with the present day. Your father is not around, I'm afraid. In fact, he died before you were born." Jokna begins. Somehow you had hoped for better news, but knowing just how cursed you seem to be with bad luck, this isn't surprising... "I never had the chance to meeting him, but your mother told me that he was something of a prodigy in occult things. That's how they met, your mother and him. A shared interest in the otherworldly. Unnatural." He pauses, trying to recall everything he knows. "At first, they were merely researching together. She, a Snow Witch with innate knowledge of the magical world. He, a poor fisherman's son fascinated by the depths and all things out of this world, with a keen mind. Whether he had any formal education or not, I do not know. However, as they worked more closely together, a romance blossomed between them. They were lovers, and happy for a very short time." Jokna reveals, his expression hardening. "They would've stayed happy, if he hadn't been flirting with a certain archdemon..." You can't believe it... "...Piru?" Jokna's nod confirms it. "I believe this is how your mother came into contact with him - through your father's ambitions." Jokna sighs. There's more to this story, isn't there? [['"What happened then?"'|ask more about father]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">Your question is answered with a sigh, like saying it out loud is painful: "Your father was frail, you see. Had trouble walking since birth. Maybe it played a part in his pledge to Piru, there's no way to know. But one day he began walking normally, became confident, strong. It was like he was a different man, one your mother did not recognize. He began drinking and fighting in taverns for fun. Almost like Piru was walking the realm in your father's skin, having a grand time in the mortal realms..." Jokna shakes his head. "I think you can guess what happened next..." [[You have a pretty good idea... But you want him to say it. Confirm it.|confirm story]] [[You have no idea. Insist he leaves no details out.|confirm story]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">He gives up, his shoulders visibly sinking. "Fine... Fine. You're an adult. You can handle the truth. Seeing the change in him, your mother ended things with him. He had become a stranger, someone she did not want in her life. A few weeks passed without a word from him. Then he came back. In the middle of the night, breaking into her home uninvited..." Jokna shakes his head. "Was it your father, who kept on going, even when your mother screamed for him to stop? And no doubt Piru, watching through your father's eyes, urged him to continue? We may never know the truth..." Jokna's voice trails off, and you find yourself speechless. Your father, or Piru... They did... And you were... "That's how I was conceived...? By..." You can't even say the words. Disgust, anger and confusion fills you at the revelation. You feel sick, like you're about to throw up. "He was once a kind man. Someone your mother loved. I know it doesn't feel like much in the grand scheme of things, and it doesn't make things right. But maybe there's some comfort to be found there...." Jokna offers, unhelpfully. "How did he die?" You finally manage to ask. "He took his own life the day after the deed..." Jokna reveals. That offers little comfort to you... [[You're angry at your father.|angry continue]] [[You're angry at Piru.|angry continue]] [[You're angry at both of them.|angry continue]] [[You feel numb...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">In a flare of anger and frustration, you slam your fist into the wooden desk, sending pots of ink tumbling down. This is not what you wanted to hear. Hoped to hear. That you're the result of a heinous act, not love. Of malice... It takes you a long while to compose yourself, but slowly, you calm down. There's nothing you can do about the past... "Let's change the subject..." You manage to whisper, and Jokna is more than happy to dismiss the topic. [[Focus on the future. Discuss the abyss.|discuss abyss]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You feel cold. Detached from your body. Like a ghostly observer. This is not what you wanted to hear. Hoped to hear. That you're the result of a heinous act, not love. Of malice... It takes you a long while to compose yourself, but slowly, you become aware of your surroundings again. Jokna is patiently waiting for you. Right. There's nothing you can do about the past... "Let's change the subject..." You manage to whisper, and Jokna is more than happy to dismiss the topic. [[Focus on the future. Discuss the abyss.|discuss abyss]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You tell him about the cultists, the ritual that bound your soul to the abyss and the pull you've felt from the void ever since. He raises an eyebrow when you tell him about the Doom Clock and Tryton. Finally, you tell him about the burst of tendrils from the abyss earlier today. Jokna's complexion is pale as he stares at you in stunned silence. "By the Gods..." The furrow on his brow deepens as he takes in the news. <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>"Did Opettaille promise salvation from the abyss?" He asks, then adds: <</if>>"I'm afraid that is an ancient evil that I was not prepared to fight again...<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>> I'll need more time to research... This Doom Clock sounds like a place where the Abyss is closest to our world.. Perhaps the library of Colematoin has some answers. Some way of releasing the hold it has on your soul...<</if>>" "Surely the God of Mercy can help with Piru and the Abyss..?" You ask<<if $ch7_felt_goddess is true>>, then add: "I felt Her today. The God of Mercy. She's real, and powerful...". She visited you today, saw you and forgave your sins<</if>>.<<if $ch7_wooden_horse is true>> You choose to leave out any details of your torture on top of the wooden horse...<</if>><<if $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off is true>> And you intend to keep it firmly to yourself that he forced himself on you...<</if>><<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>> After a moment of hesitation, you almost tell him there and then that you killed Opettaille, but decide against it... Maybe you'll reveal that later...<</if>> But to your surprise, Jokna shakes his head. "The God of Mercy may be real, and powerful, but her power is of a limited nature. She might be able break your pact to Piru, and seal away the Abyss... But she would consume your soul in exchange for helping you, and burn it in her blinding light in eternity. Besides... She is more interested in controlling the masses, instilling fear and obedience, than helping mortals." His complete dismissal of his own God is strange... "But why worship a God who has no desire to help humanity...?" You ask, confused. "That is a good question indeed. Don't get me wrong: She has power, and sometimes grants her followers a boon. But more seriously though: Whoever controls religion, controls the world. I took it upon myself to ensure the madness festering in this temple would be restrained..." Jokna simply says, shrugging. It's clear he doesn't wish to discuss the topic further... "Enough of me and my God. Tell me about Piru. I can sense his power radiating from you..." Right. [[Tell him about your pledge to Piru...|discuss your troubles]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to true>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_punished to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">There's something dark in Jokna's eyes when he nods back. In mute horror you witness Jokna slicing Opettaille's throat, who doesn't move a muscle. His blood paints the stone floor red. Then, a moment later, he falls down face-first with a sickening crack from his skull hitting the floor. Dead. A small part of you doubted Jokna would go through with it. That he was testing you. That you somehow failed the test by nodding, for wanting revenge. But it was not a test. Slowly, the darkness in Jokna's eyes disappears, and his warm smile returns. Like nothing strange happened here at all. He wipes his blade, then hides it within his robes. "Do not mourn a man who failed to protect your mother, and abused his position of power. The world is a better place without him." Jokna says, like he's trying to justify his actions to himself as much as you. [[You will not mourn Opettaille...|proceed scene Jokna]] [[You feel empty...|proceed scene Jokna]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_punished to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"Killing him is not the answer. Surely some other punishment is more suitable...?" You say, and Jokna tentatively puts away the knife. "Very well. I shall strip him of his priestly rank for abusing his position of power. He shall have to learn anew what it means to be a priest. He will sleep on a stone bed for a month, and live on nothing but stale bread and water, to contemplate his actions. He shall receive a whipping that has him begging for mercy... Is this acceptable to you?" Jokna asks. You feel strange, that someone would stand up for you, to punish those that have wronged you. You've been living outside the law for so long that you've forgotten what justice feels like... [[That is acceptable.|proceed scene Jokna]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_alone2">> <<set $ch7_came_from_church to true>> <<set $ch7_warning_about_abyss_pull_from_jokna to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The silence between you doesn't last long when you ask: "So... What about my soul? What about the abyss? How are we going to deal with that..." You jump up on the table, sitting comfortably with your legs crossed. Piru is one thing. The Fathomless Hunger is quite different... Jokna begins pacing the room, deep in thought, hands behind his back. "Honestly... I have no idea." He shrugs, but the look on his face tells you he's hiding something. Before you have time to ask, he adds: "Although..." He continues pacing, glances out of the stained glass windows, turns around and crosses the room. "You'll have to hang on tight. Stay sane. Stay safe. I will pay a visit to Colematoin's personal library. Surely, there's something about the Abyss and the Doom Clock there. High ranking members of our temple have special access, you see. And I still count among them, even though I am retired." His smile is weak, sad even. "I fear you don't have much time left until the Abyss consumes you, Taru... But you've got to stay strong. If you feel its pull, you need to push it away. With all you've got. Understand? You cannot let it sink its claws deeper into you..." When you slowly nod, he visibly relaxes. So that's it...? You need to wait. Again. Fuck... Jokna senses your frustration. "I understand, Taru. I really do. What I'm asking for is a lot, but you're dealing with something few mortals have ever faced. Fewer still who survived to tell the tale. If there's a way to fight this, to break its power over you, I will find it." Fine... You don't have much of a choice, do you? "Don't make me wait too long, alright...?" You retort, and Jokna's smile widens. "I'll get right to it. When we next meet, I shall have the answers you seek." Then he approaches you, and you find yourself in his warm embrace. Silent, you sit there, tightly hugged by the elder priest who turned out to be your long lost grandfather. The weight of the world lifts from your shoulder in this sanctuary, and you wrap your arms around him too... [[A long while later...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_ROOFTOP_VIEW.png">Instinct takes over, and for just a moment you forget about the fact that you're inside a tower high above the city. In three quick steps, you rush toward the closest floor-to-ceiling stained glass window, then throw yourself shoulder first into it with a scream that echoes through the chamber. Pain and the sound of shattered glass. <<if $ch3_kill_opettaille is true>>You barely have time to ponder that this is becoming something of a dangerous habit... Jumping out of temple windows... <</if>>Then you're falling, shocked to find yourself a hundred feet above ground with nothing to slow your fall. Reflex kicks in and you turn mid-air, like a cat, throwing your grappling hook at the temple facade behind you. Your hook misses, bounces off without finding purchase. You're gaining momentum, falling faster. Windows are flashing by as you soar toward the ground. With gritted teeth, you pull your rope back for another throw and blindly throw it once more, then you hold on for dear life. A second later, the hook sinks in, finding purchase somewhere above you and your rope is pulled taut in an instant. Your practiced hands let some of the rope pass through your hands in a desperate attempt to slow down gracefully. The rope burns your palm, but soon you reach the end of your rope. The rope janks hard, securely attached to your waist, and you feel a violent snap. Then you swing toward the temple, rope tight, and slam into the wall. [[...|darkness]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You sheath your infernal bone dagger and raise your hands. "There's been a misunderstanding... Jokna is my..." You begin, but the guards rush you, ignoring your words. Too late, you realize that these men aren't here to talk. They're here to eradicate a threat, and will stop at nothing. When the first of the guards reach you and raises his sword for a strike, you see your fatal mistake. In the last second, you dodge his blade, but there's already three more of them surrounding you. The crowded tower leaves you no room to hide when a shield slams into you from the side, sending you staggering straight into the blades of two others. Their cold steel pierces your flesh, bursting through your stomach, and between your ribs. You cry in shock, pain consuming you, only to be silenced by another strike in your face that severs your jaw. You fall, right next to Jokna, and the last thing you see is the boot of a guard crushing your head... At that moment, when darkness surrounds you and you feel the last of your life leaving your bones, your soul floats free from your body. An observer now, you witness your broken body surrounded by temple guards. 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 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 6: Murdered by temple guards.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending 6 reverse]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... You're about to leave the temple when shouting voices, the unmistakable rattle of chainmail and the clanking of steel on stone interrupt your thoughts. Temple guards. They're coming closer, like a tide. In a mild panic, you scan the room. Fuck! The only exit is through the door you came from... Then it swings open with force, and a dozen heavily armoured temple guards burst into the room. They're wielding tower shields, full plate armor and longswords, their features hidden by helmets. "There! The infernal assassin! Kill her!" One of them shouts and points at you with his longsword... [[Fuck this! In a desperate measure, throw yourself out of the window, grappling hook in hand.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_alone2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_ROOFTOP_VIEW.png">With a shocked gasp, you wake up an unknown amount of time later. You're hanging outside the temple wall, from your waist, attached to your grappling hook's rope. Your back hurts, and your palms are feeling burnt and bloody. But to your great surprise, you're alive! With careful movements, you get your bearings, and realize nothing seems to be broken. With a wild grin, you turn and swing toward the wall so that your feet are planted against it. There's at least a two dozen feet to the ground below. Your gaze finds the tower window far above you, a gaping hole in the stained glass window. You did it. You fucking did it! Indeed you did... Fuck. They're dead. Jokna and Opettaille, just like Piru wanted.<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> Jokna, your grandfather, who had no reason to lie to you about who he was. A short reunion. And now you'll never see him again. <</if>>A cloud of darkness shrouds your soul as you begin the climb down. Mighty bells ring loudly inside the temple, warning the priests of danger. Far below you, people are running in a chaotic confusion, away from the temple. This accomplishment, if you wish to call it that, feels rotten to the very core. It's been a while since you've felt this bad, this torn and conflicted. The only silver lining in all of this is that Piru will be pleased... You've been his attack dog on a leash, but no more. Your assassination contract to him is completed. Done. He can force you to kill no others... Can he? Dread fills your stomach at the thought of what Piru might have you do next. Then you begin the long climb down, anchoring yourself at ledges, pulling down your hook and securing it, then sliding down another dozen feet. Soon, you safely reach the ground. The courtyard is abandoned, save for a few heavily armoured temple guards who rush toward the temple. They don't seem to know where you are. That's good. [[Slip away in the chaos.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_scary">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The unmistakable rattle of chainmail and the clanking of steel on stone interrupt your thoughts. Temple guards. They're coming closer, like a tide. In a mild panic, you scan the room. Fuck! The only exit is through the door you came from... Then it swings open with force, and a dozen heavily armoured temple guards burst into the room. They're wielding tower shields, full plate armor and longswords, their features hidden by helmets. "There! The infernal assassin! Kill her!" One of them shouts and points at you with his longsword... [[Try to talk your way out of this...]] [[Fuck this! In a desperate measure, throw yourself out of the window, grappling hook in hand.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">The strangely immobile Opettaille remains silent, kneeling in what appears to be a prayer. Or sleep. You approach, dagger in hand, certain that he will turn around at any moment. But he does not. Even when you stand right next to him, he remains kneeling, completely unaware of what's happening. [[Investigate further...]] [[Just slice his throat...|kill opettaille chapter 7]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">You walk around him in a circle, slowly, trying to make sense of what you're seeing. He seems to be in a deep meditative state, or even a coma, but he is kneeling. Then you drop a book from a nearby table onto the floor with a loud thud. Nothing. Opettaille remains unmoving, not a single muscle on his face twitching. Even when you place a hand on his shoulder, and press the dagger against his cheek, he doesn't move. You're getting an increasingly paranoid feeling that something's wrong. That this is a trap... But you need to follow Piru's instructions... [[Finish what you started. Kill him.|kill opettaille chapter 7]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch3/TEMPLE_ROOFTOP_VIEW.png">Like a shadow, you run from cover to cover until you reach the streets. You leave behind the temple, buzzing like an angry hornet's nest. You doubt you'll ever return here. Not after what you've done. You half expected the God of Mercy to smite you down with a divine bolt of lightning at any moment, but the sky remains blissfully sunny. No heavenly wrath engulfs upon you as you disappear, joining the crowd of people running in confusion... You can feel Piru's presence inside your head. "Impressive. Simply splendid work, my dear Taru. <<if $ch7_grab_pendant is true>>I sense something different about you. Most curious... But nevermind that. <</if>>Go ahead, treat yourself to a pint of the local swill they call beer. Consider it my token of approval, little pup. As for me, duty calls as ever, for there is much to orchestrate. Expect my summon soon enough. Do try to stay in one piece until then... It would be such a shame to lose you now." Piru's mocking voice echoes formlessly within you, and then you feel his presence slipping away, his attention elsewhere. Well, just as you expected. Your master is pleased. Impressed even.<<if $ch7_swear_to_kill_piru is true>> He'll get what's coming to him. All in due time...<</if>> Your mission here is done. It's time to head back. [[Head back to the Rustic Fork Inn and wait for Einar...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_came_from_church to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Your steps take you back to the Rustic Fork Inn, where you find a quiet table in the corner. The innkeeper brings you an ale, which you pay for from your dwindling collection of coins. Einar should be joining you soon. Hopefully... [[Wait until the evening.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">A long while later, you're outside the temple, heading back to the Rustic Fork Inn. You pray to the Gods that your good-bye to Jokna wasn't the last as you disappear into the bustling streets of Valkama. ... Your steps take you back to the Rustic Fork Inn, where you find a quiet table in the corner. The innkeeper brings you an ale, which you pay for from your dwindling collection of coins. Einar should be joining you soon. Hopefully... [[Wait until the evening.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Opettaille spends some time lighting torches around the room, slowly bathing the room in an ominous orange glow that is reflected from the wet walls. The place is filled with what can only be described as torture devices, from floor to ceiling. Your eyes dart from the breaking wheel, to the cauldrons of water, pillory, tablillas, wooden horse and a myriad of metallic instruments for cutting, piercing and crushing... "What's all this for...?" You ask, confused. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is false>>The memory of the cage around your head, the spikes piercing your eyes, is fresh and raw. Instinctively, you take a horrified step back. <</if>>But then you recall the nature of the God of Mercy. She sees humanity as ants, barely worthy of saving... Salvation through sacrifice... "These are instruments to coax your soul into a willing state of purity. Through penance, the God of Mercy shall bless you, and thus save your soul from the Abyss and the demonic influences." Opettaille explains. That all sounds well and good, except the penance part... "But you haven't even asked me what I've uncovered. There's a written pact, that if stolen might break by pledge to Piru... And a Doom Clock, where I felt the very presence of the Abyss..." <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You comment, pretending to be disturbed by what you're seeing.<<else>>You stutter, the words forming a shield between you can Opettaille, between you and the pain that the instruments scattered around the room promise...<</if>> "Indeed, I have not asked. And I will not. You see, our wise elder, Jokna, has arrived. You and I will seek an audience with him, and kneel prostrate before him, seeking his advice on the matter. But we will only do so if your soul is ready to receive his wisdom, and the God of Mercy shall deem you ready through acts of penance. For your sins are many and great indeed..." [['Ask: "What sins...?"'|what sins]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[You're not going to participate in this madness. Kill Opettaille right here, right now.|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[You're not going to participate in this madness. Refuse.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your refusal is met with silence.<<if $ch7_back_is_bloody is true>> Is it not enough that you have struck your back bloody?<</if>><<if $ch7_remove_shirt is true>> Suddenly your nakedness bothers you, and you gingerly reach for your shirt and bra...<</if>> "Well... You're the one that walks this path. Not me." Opettaille comments. "You're not ready, I'm afraid. If I were you, I'd leave the temple grounds. Come back when you have the guts to face yourself and your past..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone. That's it?? Just like that... Fury rises in your chest... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "hopeful_sneak">> <<set $ch7_back_is_bloody to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your question is met by a raised eyebrow. Like your sins are obvious. "Truly? You have nothing to confess? You have never lied, stolen or killed? You are as pure as the day you were born? I highly doubt it. But your greatest crimes... A pact with a demon, written in your own blood? And your black soul... Drenched in abyssal poison, not even fit for a demon to claim. Need I go on?" Opettaille's list hits home. Fuck, is he right? Why would a God even look at someone like you? You've lived outside the law for as long as you remember, taking what isn't yours... You've lied your way through life, taken countless lives for coin, and survival. But to count the Abyss and Piru as your greatest sins, things that were out of your control... He might be right though. That you're a sinner... [[He is right. About all of it...|he is right]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Play along. For now.|he is right]]<<else>>[[He is partially right...|he is right]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Enough with this. You're here to kill Opettaille. Get it over with...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[You refuse to acknowledge that you are a sinner.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Something in your eyes betrays your thoughts. "Indeed. Recognizing one's flaws is the first step toward God. And in your case, salvation." Opettaille proclaims, then gestures at a wooden chair. "Sit. And tell me your sins..." [[Do as he says.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Gingerly, you approach and sit down on the chair he chose. He looms over you, his face hidden in shadows, and patiently waits for you to talk. To list your sins. To confess? <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>He is so close. It would be trivially easy to reach for your knife under the table, unseen, and kill him... <</if>> You've already been given a taste of what this temple thinks is a necessary course of action for finding divine favour... It now seems that was merely an introduction. An initiation rite, of sorts. "Is this common practice...?" You ask, referring to the torture devices scattered around the room. But you already know the answer. The temple of the God of Mercy is full is zealots who revel in pain... Opettaille nods and holds his hands into his long sleeves, saying: "There is but one way to the divine light. And we walk it, willingly." Then he pulls up the sleeves of his robes, revealing his arms. Both are freshly cut in a methodic pattern, from wrist to elbow, the wounds barely sealed. "This I inflicted on my self, to ask for forgiveness for allowing one such as you to even walk this path." He explains. Opettaille's unkept black hair partially hides his face, but you can glimpse enough of his expression to see that he is being deadly serious. His pale blue eyes reflect the orange glow of the torches dotted around the room. Those wounds... That's just for letting you into the temple...? Finally, you reach a decision... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Lull him into a false sense of security. Talk about your sins, as a thief.|thief sin]]<<else>>[[Talk about your sins, as a thief...|thief sin]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[He does not suspect a thing. Kill him now...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[You have no sins to confess.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">"I know I should've been here to protect her... Instead I was on a pilgrimage in the southern kingdoms, where I spent all my waking hours learning everything about the demonic kin and their nature." He opens his eyes, like he's found new resolve. "There was so much we didn't know, Taru... About the demons and mortal pacts. The texts here in Valkama that we had consulted on the subject were either written by incompetent hobbyists or servants of the demons' themselves, for they contained contradicting information to the tomes I read in the south. For one: A demon is in no way obligated to tell the truth to a mortal, at any point, even when making a pact..." The hairs at the back of your neck stand up in terror at the revelation, of the possibility that Piru has been lying about almost everything... "Wait, you're saying..." You begin to ask, unable to finish the sentence. Jokna nods his head. "Whatever he said to you were probably lies or at best half-truths, Taru..." [[You stare in disbelief at Jokna.|You stare in disbelief at Jokna.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_opettaille_confess_thief to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Reluctantly, you sigh, and recount your days living on the streets. Of surviving, day to day. Of taking what you needed. But also taking what you didn't need. A shadow for hire, breaking and entering for the promise of coins. For taking lives... You haven't done a day's worth of honest work. Instead, you've stolen and lied your way through life, taking in an instant things that others have worked hard to earn... Opettaille is a silent figure gazing down on you from above. Throughout your confession, he doesn't say a word. As you sit there, recounting your life, you feel strange. Like a knot is beginning to loosen up. Have you carried a guilt with you for the way you've lived your life? <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You almost believe your own words, your confession, but you can't help but see the ultimate sin required of you. To kill a priest...<</if>> "Good. Admitting one's shortcomings and wrong-doings is the first step into Her light." Opettaille finally says and walks up to a rack full of tools meant for nothing but inflicting pain and suffering... With suspicious eyes, you watch him select a long multi-headed whip from the rack, then places it on the table in front of you. It looks like it could easily draw blood and break skin... "Ten lashes that draw blood. On your back. For a decade of terrorizing Valkama as a larcenist, liar and thief. For being a cold-blooded murderer." When you simply stare at him, neither of you touching the whip, he adds: "Self-administered flagelation. Remove your shirt and take the whip, Taru. And face your sins." [[He cannot be serious...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_sneak">> <<set $ch7_remove_shirt to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"You want me to flagellate myself... With that?" You ask, thinking that surely you heard wrong. But you already know the answer. Opettaille's bloody arms were proof enough that he is being serious. "Quite. But consider me understanding of your situation. In the spirit of mercy, I shall allow you to administer the punishment yourself. In the act, and in the pain, you shall find clarity. The God of Mercy will be watching, and know if your efforts come from the heart. If you truly feel remorse for a life lived in sin. No need to be shy, either. All are naked in front of our God." Opettaille explains, and takes a few steps back, giving you plenty of space. The silence that follows is deafening. The whip, neatly laid out on the damp wooden table in front of you, quietly waits for your attention. Finally, clarity reaches your head. He wants you to remove your shirt, and whip yourself raw for your years living as a thief and assassin... [[Embrace the ritual. Repent in truth...|true whipping]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Use this as an opportunity to kill him...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[This is too much. Refuse.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Pretend to repent...|not true whipping]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_true_whipping to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Why is your hand shaking when you reach for the multi-headed whip? You can feel the stern look from Opettaille from where he stands in the corner of the room. Watching. Waiting. The whip's handle is hard black leather, recently oiled. There are five knotted ropes, as thick as your thumb, spreading out from a common base at the top of the handle. Each knot contains tiny metallic spikes... You judge the ropes to be about two feet long. Swinging this is going to hurt. A lot... Unless you go easy on yourself. But Opettaille said his God is watching. And judging. You've already felt Her presence, a force that rivals that of the Abyss and the archdemons. If she is watching, and judges you unworthy... You've made up your mind. You will embrace this, see where it leads you. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>For a moment, you forget about why you're here and who you serve. At this moment, you are no longer Taru the assassin. You are Taru, the sinner seeking forgiveness.<</if>> With those thoughts in your mind, you... [[Remove your shirt.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_true_whipping to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You reach out for the multi-headed whip, feeling Opettaille's stern look from where he stands in the corner of the room. Watching. Waiting. The whip's handle is hard black leather, recently oiled. There are five knotted ropes, as thick as your thumb, spreading out from a common base at the top of the handle. Each knot contains tiny metallic spikes... You judge the ropes to be about two feet long. Swinging this is going to hurt. A lot... Unless you go easy on yourself. Opettaille did say his God is watching. And judging. But you're here in infernal business, only pretending to embrace her light so that unsuspecting Opettaille will lower his guard. You won't have to pretend for long... With that thought in mind, you... [[Remove your shirt.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_remove_shirt to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">It's a symbolic gesture, to expose oneself before a God. But in this case, it's mostly practical. You do not want to ruin your clothes by whipping them into pieces. With quick hands, you remove your shirt, placing it in a neat pile on the ancient wooden table in front of you. "Your bra too. Don't want to ruin that either..." Opettaille helpfully comments. You hesitate for just a moment, then compy, removing it in a quick motion and placing it on your shirt on the table. Then you stand up from the chair, showing your back to Opettaille. You're not about to give him the satisfaction of watching your breasts while you whip yourself... Besides, surely he's more interested in seeing the whip at work? The horrifying instrument of holy torment is in your right hand. Standing here, in just your pants and shoes, you can feel the cool of this damp basement on your skin. A shiver runs down your spine, from both the cold, and the dread of the act you're about to do... Opettaille doesn't say a word. He waits, patiently. Silently. With a deep breath, you steel yourself, and... [[Strike your back...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The knuckles on your hand are white as they clutch the handle of the whip. Then you bring it up, over your left shoulder, in one smooth motion. <<if $ch7_true_whipping is false>>You deliberately make the blow softer, but try to maintain the appearance of one fast motion...<</if>> The knotted ropes strike your skin, their rough weight digging into your skin. The impact is soft, but you still feel its sting. In mute silence, you stand there, feeling the disapproving look of Opettaille at the back of your head before you hear him: "We shall consider that a warm-up. If you do not draw blood, your lashes shall not count." Opettaille's stern voice reminds you. Fuck... He's not going to make this easy, is he? Ten lashes that draw blood? The insanity of what he asks washes over you... [[Continue what you've started...|strike 1]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Use this as an opportunity to kill him...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[No way. This is insane. Refuse.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_back_is_bloody to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Fine. He wants blood. You'll give him blood. With closed eyes, and the knotted ropes of the whip resting on your back, you prepare to try again. <<if $ch7_true_whipping is false>>But how do you make it look real without trying... At that moment, you realize it's impossible. If blood is to be drawn, it must be a real strike...<</if>> Your breath is shallow, anything but calm, as you mentally prepare for the task ahead. Then, with clenched teeth, you let the whip drop in front of you and in one smooth motion strike your back, over your left shoulder once more... The impact of the ropes, knots and spikes breaking your skin echoes in the tiny room, sounding disturbingly wet and loud. Your surprised agonizing scream fills the room as the pain washes you all at once. Everything else is drowned out around you as the throbbing pain on your back takes root. Becomes all you feel. All you know. After a moment of agony, you realize you've been screaming the entire time, your throat dry and coarse from the strain. It takes all the willpower that you have to shut your mouth and take deep breaths in silence, hunched over like a cripple. "Well done indeed, child... The exquisite pattern on your back... Like a work of art..." Opettaille proclaims behind you and you hear his approaching footsteps as he comes closer to admire the grotesque display of violence you've inflicted upon yourself. Opettaille's voice is ecstatic, reverent even, when he whispers: "So pure... The first act. The first scene of the canvas you're about to paint... The story of your walk into light... Please. Continue." Slowly, it dawns on you that Opettaille isn't going anywhere. Instead, he remains by your side, his full attention on the open wounds on your back. Like a moth drawn to a flame. Or an addict to alcohol... [[Find your resolve. Flog yourself a second time...|strike 2]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Your anger fuels you as you spin around, dagger in hand...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[You cannot do it. The pain is too much. Throw the whip away.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The silence is broken by the meaty thud of the rope striking your back, and your cry in pain when the tiny spikes dig into your skin. You're shaking, shuddering and panting like you've run a mile at full speed. Adrenaline surges through your veins, making you hyper-aware of the pain and your own breath. And of Opettaille's approving look as he draws near, gingerly tracing his fingers around the site of impact on your back... "A most brilliant scene indeed..." He says, in awe at the sight of the blood on your back. Then he takes a step back, clearly anticipating more. "Eight more years of theft to whip away, child." He reminds you. When you reflect on why you're doing this, you draw blanks at first... [[You're doing this to cleanse your soul...|continue strikes]] [[You're doing this because you need help...|continue strikes]] [[You're doing it because you like it...|continue strikes]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[You're seeking forgiveness for a crime you have not committed yet...|continue strikes]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost">> <<set $ch7_felt_goddess to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Yes indeed... Why else would you willingly strike your back bloody and raw? Behind you, Opettaille patiently waits for you to continue the crimson act of painting a bloody canvas on your skin. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>You've suffered enough... The Gods will judge you for what you're about to do, but you cannot go through with this any longer... If you continue, you will be in no position to assassinate anyone...<<else>>You've only drawn blood twice, and you're shaking and weak already...<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Confess to Opettaille that you're here to kill him and Jokna.]]<<else>>[[Your body cannot take any more... Refuse to continue.|refuse opettaille torture]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Turn to face Opettaille, and draw your blade...|kill opettaille basement]]<<else>>[[You can do this. Master your pain and continue...|continue whip]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure to 0>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">This feels oddly... Right. Like you deserve this. It gives you a strange sense of calm, and at first you can't quite explain why. With the bloody whip in your right hand, and blood flowing down your back, you finally get it. This singular task might be simple to do, but it forces all thoughts away. All those terrifying thoughts of the future, of your tainted soul, or Piru... With the pain, there comes a perfect escape from the daily horror that has become your life and reality... Besides, you're beginning to see this is a challenge. If some random priests at the temple, who surely live cozy sheltered lives, can do this to themselves... Then surely you can too. After all you've been through. After all you've seen. This is nothing. It's just pain. With new resolve, you lift the whip, this time aiming over your right shoulder. In quick succession, you strike... And again... And again... On the third successive strike you collapse onto your knees, the whip falling from your hands onto the wet dark stone floor. It's no longer water making this room wet. It's your blood. An overwhelming pain takes hold of you, like someone has peeled the skin off your back and poured salt in the wounds. You feel like a piece of meat, waiting to be slaughtered... In the pain, somewhere deep inside, beyond the physical, you feel... [[... A sense of accomplishment.]] [[... A divine euphoria.]] [[... Pleasure. Almost sexual...|... Pleasure.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_confess_about_to_kill_opettaille to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You cannot take this any more. With a soft whisper, almost like a cry for help, you say to Opettaille: "I have a much greater crime to confess to..." The silence tells you all that you needed to hear. That you have his full attention. "I had to strike a new deal with the archdemon Piru... In truth, I'm here to kill you." The tiny basement room feels tinier than ever, now that your secret is out. When Opettaille doesn't say a word, you turn around, expecting him to jump at you with a hidden weapon. But he remains perfectly still, hands hidden within his long sleeves. Finally, he sighs. "And do you intend to honor that pledge? To spill priestly blood within these hallowed halls?" He asks, his voice calm. Indeed, what is your plan? Why did you confess your plan to him? Are you here to seek forgiveness? Understanding? Or help...? Whatever the reason for telling him, it's out now... Finally, you say: <<set $linkText to "\"I must follow my pledge, or face the demon's wrath.\"">>[[$linkText|yes kill]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"I will not be the demon's puppet.\"">>[[$linkText2|no kill]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "fear_supernatural_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your confession is met with a raised eyebrow. "Truly? Right here, right now? You expect me to silently accept my fate, to let a devil's dog cut me down?" His words are suddenly cold, threatening. You're suddenly aware of his hands, hidden within his long sleeves. Both could be firmly holding concealed weapons right now, ready to strike... Your hand finds the hilt of your infernal bone dagger, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold and damp basement... Without a warning, Opettaille lunges at you, a deep green mist surrounding you, blinding you. Your lungs are burning, and you strike air aimlessly and desperately around you. The bastard is nowhere to be found as your vision darkens... Before you know it, your head strikes the table, and you're on your knees vomiting blood... Your teeth fall out of your mouth, rattling like discarded grotesque red pearls on the floor... Darkness surrounds you. The last thing you see are your hands on the floor in front of you, your skin boiling, peeling away until only bones remain... 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 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 5: Melted in acid.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending reverse acid]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Opettaille's features soften from your words. "I'm glad to hear it. You have shown a great deal of willpower and courage, Taru. I believe you're ready to meet Jokna. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." Opettaille says, and with those words, he leaves you alone in the basement. You're shirtless, bloody, and with the whip still in your hand, which you drop in disgust. Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "peace_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">For a while, you listen to the dripping water running down the dark stone walls, and the sound of the crackling torches that illuminate this dim basement.<<if $ch7_back_is_bloody is true>> The wounds on your back are sealed, no longer bleeding...<</if>><<if $ch7_remove_shirt is true>> With new determination, you dress yourself.<</if>> Then you head into the corridor. There, a strange sensation immediately comes over you. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to walk in a certain direction... With a dry mouth, you stand there, frozen in your tracks, resisting this force. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. It quickly becomes obvious that it is impossible to resist the urge... Something's controlling you as you take a step further into the corridor, back where you and Opettaille originally came from. Your steps feel light, your feet numb, as you walk down the corridor. When you walk past a staircase, you're gripped by an urge to stop. Whatever is pulling your strings wants you to go up, not continue down the corridor. Your panic is increasing as you once again find yourself unable to resist, your legs taking you one step at a time higher, up the spiralling staircase. One floor. Another. A third. This continues six floors up. Then you finally halt... You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger, trying to fight against this invisible force. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_calm_lost2">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... "A most brilliant scene indeed..." He says, in awe at the sight of the blood on your back. Then he takes a step back, clearly anticipating more. "Eight more years of theft to whip away, child." He reminds you. When you reflect on why you're doing this, you draw blanks at first... [[You're doing this to cleanse your soul...|continue strikes]] [[You're doing this because you need help...|continue strikes]] [[You're doing it because you like it...|continue strikes]] <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[You're seeking forgiveness for a crime you have not committed yet...|continue strikes]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_loss">> <<set $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure to 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your mind focuses on the one thing it can think of: You're half-way there. Five lashes done. Five remain. If this is as bad as it gets, then you can do this. You will prove to all the Gods watching right now that you have an iron will. You will not be broken. Behind you, Opettaille is silent for the first time, no doubt observing you with deep fascination... [[Continue whipping...|whip 6 to 8]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your hands fumble on the stone floor, trying to find the whip, your vision blurred by the pain. Finally, you find the instrument and grab it with a shaking hand... You feel your body is weak, your legs shaking uncontrollably. Down here will do just fine... Without standing up, you remain sitting on your knees in a pool of your own blood. Then you stretch your back, the act sending a new wave of pain through your back as the wounds stretch and break open. Gasping for air, sweaty and barely able to sit straight, you continue what you started... You alternate over your left and right shoulder, striking deep, silently counting as you do... Behind you, you can hear Opettaille counting out loud with you... Six... And you're sure you're beginning to dig into muscles and bone... Seven... And the cold of the room begins to seep into your marrow, draining your resolve... Eight... And there's no room for thoughts. Just like that, your mind goes numb. Blank. It's like your ears are ringing, but without the ringing. All sound is blocked, muted, as your body collapses in confusion... But you hang on to consciousness. You lie there, watching, staring blankly in front of you... Opettaille is by your side, and the worry you somehow expected to see in his eyes is not there. He's smiling. Talking. But you can't hear him. [[Try to understand what he's saying.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_loss">> <<set $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure to 2>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Somewhere, deep in the pain, you feel warm. Good, even. Something is embracing you, shining a light on your soul. The darkness of the room disperses, and you see it all with clarity. The God of Mercy, her divine form, is smiling down on you. She is proud of her new child of faith, of the path you now walk. The pain is almost gone as you feel her presence all around you. Behind you, Opettaille is silent for the first time, no doubt observing you with deep fascination... [[Continue whipping...|whip 6 to 8]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_loss">> <<set $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure to 3>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">A soft involuntary moan escapes your lips as you embrace the new feeling, the pain shifting form that of trauma into something else entirely. Something you had no idea was possible. A shiver races up your spine, blooming into warmth as it spreads through your broken and bloody back. It spreads through your body, making you feel alive. The world blurs at the edges, distant and inconsequential, as a wave of pleasure crests and crashes over you, consuming you fully. You didn't even realize you've been holding your breath, your muscles almost cramping from the intensity of what you're now experiencing. When you finally release your breath, it comes in short, shuddering gasps. Your pulse a pounding drum against the delicate cage of your ribs, as if your very blood sings with the rush of this new sensation. Every nerve feels sharpened, attuned to the exquisite moment, stretching it endlessly, until time itself seems to dissolve into the dizzying, intoxicating flood of pain and pleasure. Behind you, Opettaille is silent for the first time, no doubt observing you with deep fascination... [[Continue whipping...|whip 6 to 8]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">His words are distant, but getting closer. Then, you feel the cold stone on your cheek where you're resting it. And finally, the ruined skin on your back reminds you of its presence. <<switch $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure>><<case 1>>You actually did it! Well... Almost. <<case 2>>The light of the God of Mercy shines on you, bathing you in her divine embrace... <<default>>The pain forces your body to relax, like a deep massage. When you close your eyes, you begin to fantasize about something more. You're beginning to get horny... <</switch>>But it looks like you might not be able to finish this task, now that your body is broken and refuses to cooperate... This you realize when you try to stand back up, but your arms and legs refuse to carry your weight. "I have rarely seen such devotion in such a short amount of time. There must be priestly blood in your veins, Taru, to embrace repentance so quickly. So thoroughly." Opettaille's voice finally reaches your ears. Eventually, when it's clear you're not going to respond, he adds: "You're so close... I can feel Her divine approval, see her brush strokes on your skin. It is... Extraordinary..." His reverence of your gaping wounds is palpable... And still your limbs refuse to work when you try to sit back up, from your prone position on the floor. "I can't..." Your voice is a whimper, a whisper. Your body is telling you that it's had enough, that it physically cannot take more. Yet, Opettaille does not see it that way. "This is where the true test of faith lies, Taru. Even in the darkest hour, light finds a way. To have come so far, only to give up now... Well, that seems like a waste. Are you giving up, now that you're so close to salvation?" Opettaille retorts, standing with his arms crossed a few feet away, glancing down on you. Maybe he's right. Maybe you should push on. But you can't... Mustering all the strength you have left, you say... [["Enough. I cannot... Will not... Continue... This is madness."|refuse torture 2]] [["I will not give up... But I need help..."|ask for help]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your refusal is met with a sigh of disappointment. "Truly... You were about to achieve something greater than yourself..." Opettaille comments. You cannot tell if he's more disappointed that his private bloody show has ended, or that you have turned your back on his Goddess. "You're not ready after all... Well, let me heal your wounds..." You're in no position to protest when he reaches into his robes and takes out a clear white bottle. You're lying on your belly, shirtless, as he pours the content onto your back. It hisses and burns, but Opettaille keeps you pinned down onto the floor as you scream and begins to chant in a monotone voice. It seems the sun suddenly enters the room, illuminating your back, but you cannot see what's going on. However, you can feel it. Feel your skin moving, your flesh mending. It's just as painful as the flogging... You almost pass out from the pain. Then you suddenly feel your strength returning, the fog dulling your mind dispersing. Opettaille admires his work, then takes a step back. When you glance behind you at your back, you see barely any traces of the wounds inflicted by the knotted whip. "If I were you, I'd leave the temple grounds. Come back when you have the guts to face yourself and your past..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone. That's it?? Just like that... After everything you just went through...? Fury rises in your chest... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your plea for help is answered when Opettaille pulls you up by your arms. Finally, you're standing again, but you have to lean on the table for support... And there's the whip, painted red from your blood, casually waiting in Opettaille's hand. Feeling powerless, you hold out your hand to accept the whip. But when he gives it to you your fingers refuse to grasp the handle, and the whip falls to the floor. You almost collapse there and then, not quite comprehending what just happened. "I see... You need more than just a hand. You need someone to finish what you started?" Opettaille asks as he picks up the whip again, this time adamant not to give it to one as weak as you. Somehow, the pain has dulled your senses. Made you into a simpleton, for it takes you a moment to realize what he means. "You'll finish... You'll strike my back?" You ask, blinking at the priest. He nods, and realizing you didn't see it, adds: "Indeed. Lean on the table for support... There's only two strikes left now." His words are law, and you... [[Do as he says...]] [[Break the law... Refuse...|refuse torture 3]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">In the grand scheme of things, you realize this is madness. That this is an insane way for gain a God's favour. And yet, you continue doing it. You turn your back to Opettaille, and lean over the table, supported by your hands. With shaking legs, you wait. Just when you think the strike isn't coming, you feel its sting, hear it slicing your flesh. It's an entirely different sensation to be on the receiving end of a practiced hand, than inflicting it on yourself. Opettaille knows exactly how to strike to deliver the most pain, to make the body cry in remorse, the spirit howl in terror. <<switch $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure>><<case 1>>Focus... You're almost done. Just one more to go. One more... To go... With gritted teeth, you strengthen your resolve, even though your body threatens to collapse under you. You're Taru-fucking-Nopsa. You've been through worse! <<case 2>>Surely the angels are weeping with joy, seeing you like this. You can feel the love of the God of Mercy caressing you, gently stroking your back, kissing it with the sweetest bliss. Giving you Her blessing... One last time, and She will embrace you... <<default>>It's a strange sort of pleasure that fills you now, that you cannot quite explain. It burns in your loins, and your back... Absent-mindedly, you realize your legs and crotch are pressed against the table... Against the edge... With a soft moan, you spread your legs, rubbing the edge of the table against your aching pussy... <</switch>> [[The whip descends a final time...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your refusal is met with a sigh of disappointment. "Truly... You were about to achieve something greater than yourself..." Opettaille comments. You cannot tell if he's more disappointed that his private bloody show has ended, or that you have turned your back on his Goddess. "You're not ready after all... Well, let me heal your wounds..." You're in no position to protest when he reaches into his robes and takes out a clear white bottle. He instructs you to lean over the table, then pours the content onto your back. It hisses and burns, but Opettaille keeps you pinned down onto the table as you scream, and begins to chant in a monotone voice. It seems the sun suddenly enters the room, illuminating your back, but you cannot see what's going on. However, you can feel it. Feel your skin moving, your flesh mending. It's just as painful as the flogging... You almost pass out from the pain. Then you suddenly feel your strength returning, the fog dulling your mind dispersing. Opettaille admires his work, then takes a step back. When you glance behind you at your back, you see barely any traces of the wounds inflicted by the knotted whip. "If I were you, I'd leave the temple grounds. Come back when you have the guts to face yourself and your past..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone. That's it?? Just like that... After everything you just went through...? Fury rises in your chest... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_thoughtful_slow">> <<set $ch7_felt_goddess to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The tenth strike takes your breath away. Then the ecstasy of having accomplished the impossible washes over you. <<switch $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure>><<case 1>>You did it... <<case 2>>You can feel the God of Mercy. She's here. And she's proud... <<default>>Your aching pussy thinks it's unfair that your back has gotten all the attention today. Opettaille might see you rubbing yourself against the edge of the table... But if he does, he doesn't say a word. You're lost in a fever, biting your lip until you almost taste blood. Your pussy is finally enjoying relief, feeling the coarse fabric of your pants pushing and rubbing between your legs, aided by the edge of the table... After a moment, you regain clarity, and with a flushed face stop what you're doing. Opettaille is blissfully silent, saying nothing, like he hasn't seen a thing... <</switch>> "Can you feel her presence?" Opettaille asks, his voice but a whisper, like he's afraid to scare away his Deity. Through your pain-inflicted haze, you do... The room seems brighter, every shadow cast away as a profoundly powerful presence fills the room. There's no doubt about it. Behind you, Opettaille throws himself on the ground, prone in a reverent prayer. The God of Mercy is all around you, and you find it hard to pick a decision to face... [[Throw yourself on the ground next to Opettaille...|she disappears]] [[Remain standing, refusing to bow your head.|she disappears]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Before you have time to put thoughts into action, She's gone. The room grows dark and cold... "My Lady..." Opettaille whimpers, feeling his God's attention turn elsewhere. He's slow to rise back on his feet, but when he does, he faces you with a strange look on his face. "She is testing you." He concludes. "She has rewarded you with her presence, to show you that she sees you. That she understands your troubles. The Abyss. The demons. She has no love for these things either. And you have shown her that you can change your ways. You've shown remorse for your sins." Indeed you have, in a way you never assumed you would. What drove you down this path, you now wonder... "Here, let me heal your wounds..." You're in no position to protest when he reaches into his robes and takes out a clear white bottle. He instructs you to lean over the table, then pours the content onto your back. It hisses and burns, but Opettaille keeps you pinned down onto the table as you scream, and begins to chant in a monotone voice. It seems the sun suddenly enters the room, illuminating your back, but you cannot see what's going on. However, you can feel it. Feel your skin moving, your flesh mending. It's just as painful as the flogging... You almost pass out from the pain. Then you suddenly feel your strength returning, the fog dulling your mind dispersing. "What happens now...?" You ask. When you glance behind you at your back, you see barely any traces of the wounds inflicted by the knotted whip. "Now, we continue what we started, if you feel strong enough, of course. The second phase of cleansing, of your greatests sins. Your pact with a demon and your black tainted soul. However, you have earned an audience with Jokna, and the God of Mercy's attention. We can stop here if you want." His words echo in your head. He offers more pain, more hurt, but only if you want to see things through? Well.. <<set $linkText to "\"I've had enough... Let's meet Jokna.\"">>[[$linkText|demand audience]] <<if $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure is 3>>[['Feeling horny from the pain, you say: "I want more..."'|wooden horse path]]<<else>>[["I want to continue to the second phase..."|wooden horse path]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your words are met with a nod. "Very well. You have earned the right." Well, it's about time! "I shall go ahead, make sure he welcomes you. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone with your thoughts... Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_tease">> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your words are met with a nod of approval. "Excellent... Why don't you begin by describing your pact with the archdemon in detail. Truthfully and honestly." A full account, then... Fine. You've already physically exposed yourself to the God of Mercy, and Opettaille... Now it's time to expose your secrets... "<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>I am his... His concubine...<</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> I swore to be the demon's assassin... His mortal blade...<</if>>" The truth isn't easy to say, not when the priest and his God are judging. There's a deep furrow on his brow as he scans the room, followed by a thorough examination of all the drawers and racks. When you reach for your bra and shirt, Opettaille shakes his head. "There's no need for those. In fact, you'll need to remove all of your clothes for the next trial." He commands, then places a large hourglass on the table. "For what purpose...?" You ask, referring to both his demand that you strip naked, and the emergence of the hourglass. "You will ride the wooden horse for 30 minutes, as long as sand is falling from this hourglass. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>You will feel its pain in your nether regions, as punishment for whoring yourself to a demon... <</if>>Reflect on why you chose the path of infernal servitude to a demon." His words are followed by a gesture toward a wooden construction, like an inverted letter "V", and doesn't look like a horse at all. It's a triangular device with one end of the triangle pointing upward, mounted on a sawhorse-like support... The top of the triangle is a few feet long, and the chains hanging from the ceiling above it make it clear what they're used for... The victim, you, will have to spread her legs on both sides of this triangular shape. The weight of your body will press down, forcing the top of the triangle into your pussy and ass... [[That looks painful, but you will walk this path of cleansing...|accept path]] [[On second thought, maybe this isn't a good idea...]] <<if $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure is 3>>[[Finally... Something designed for your pussy... You accept this punishment.|accept path]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Let's do this..." You whisper, suddenly not feeling as bold when you begin to strip in front of the priest... You've done this before, of course, walking through the entire church completely naked on parade. But at least then you were joined by a dozen other aspiring novices... Now, it's just you can Opettaille. And the wooden horse... "Your panties too." Opettaille comments. Suddenly nervous, you do as he says, pulling down your panties... <<if $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure is 3>>Your realize then that you're soaking wet between your legs, and shaking with anticipation to ride that thing...<</if>> "Excellent. Approach the device." Opettaille comments, going ahead of you into the corner of the room where the wooden horse awaits. [[Approach the torture device...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Actually... I'd rather not experience that... Thing..." Your words are met with a short nod. "Very well. You have earned the right for an audience with Jokna already. But this awaits you in the future, if you truly wish to walk in the path of divine light." Opettaille says. Well... You're certainly not looking forward to that... "I shall go ahead, make sure he welcomes you. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone with your thoughts... Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">When you approach, you see that the device is low enough for you to easily stand over it without any issues. But when you glance up, the chains remind you of their existence... You glance from device to Opettaille, to the chains, getting a pretty good idea of what awaits you... "Stand over the device, and spread your legs." Opettaille instructs. It's then that you realize that he isn't even looking at you. At your nakedness, your exposed breasts and pussy. He has been quite disinterested in looking at your female beauty this entire time, hasn't he? When you're this close to the device, and see what it is you've agreed to, you... [[Do as he instructs, without hesitation.|continue horse]] [[Do as he instructs, hesitantly.|continue horse]] [[Tell him you've had second thoughts.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">It feels strange, straddling yourself on top of the wooden triangle. Your legs are tightly hugging the sides, while your feet are comfortably planted on the floor. Your weight is fully on your feet. But the top of the triangle runs directly between your legs, brushing against your exposed pussy and ass. "Good. Now, stretch your back and neck. Make yourself tall." Opettaille instructs... Fine. You'll do that... Suddenly, when you stretch to your full length, you're reminded that you are, in fact, naked. This surreal situation is one of your own making. You agreed to this... You could've said no and been on your way to an audience with Jokna already. But no. Instead you had to say yes to the next phase in Opettaille's cleansing of your sins, and here you are... The rattle of chains interrupt your thoughts as Opettaille brings the hovering chains closer. You can feel their cold touch on your back... "Hold out your arms in front of you. These chains are for your wrists..." The priest instructs. He's done this before, hasn't he... [[Do as he says...|continue horse 2]] [[Tell him you've had second thoughts.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Actually... I'd rather not experience that... Thing..." Your words are met with a short nod. "Very well. You have earned the right for an audience with Jokna already. But this trial, which you now abandon, awaits you in the future, if you truly wish to walk in the path of divine light." Opettaille says. Well... You're certainly not looking forward to that... "I shall go ahead, make sure he welcomes you. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone with your thoughts... You begin by pulling on your panties, pants and shoes again in the silence that follows Opettaille's departure. Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Is that a shiver running down your spine when you voluntarily and willingly hold out your arms in front of you? Opettaille's practiced hands grab two of the chains hanging from the ceiling above you and bring them to your wrists. You can see handcuffs at the end of those chains, which he now proceeds to lock... With startled eyes, you witness him locking those cuffs first on your right wrist. Then your left... And you simply stand there, naked with your legs spread on both sides of the wooden horse. Unmoving. Waiting. Opettaille then proceeds to pull the chains, forcing your arms up above your head. Suddenly the full weight of your predicament is becoming clear. But he doesn't stop pulling until you're forced to stand on your toes... Your breath quickens in an instant, your heart beating in your chest in a mild panic. <<if $ch7_accomplishment_euphoria_or_pleasure is 3>>But in the middle of the sweet, sweet panic is an anticipation for what's about to happen...<</if>> "Uncomfortable? This is nothing yet... Remember: Once we start, there will be no begging to stop. I will leave you here, alone, to contemplate your sins. I will return once the sand in the hourglass has drained." Opettaille warns you. Fuck... Your nipples are getting hard from standing here, bound by chains and naked... But to not be able to stop this once it begins is... [[... too much. You will not proceed...]] [[... hot and kinky... You want to enjoy the pain of the wooden horse...]] [[... terrifying but necessary to get the Goddess approval...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Actually... I'd rather not experience this after all..." Your words are met with a short nod. "Very well. You have earned the right for an audience with Jokna already. But this trial, which you now abandon, awaits you in the future, if you truly wish to walk in the path of divine light." Opettaille says. Well... You're certainly not looking forward to that... Opettaille lowers that chains and unlocks you, and with a sigh of relief you step away from the torture device. "I shall go ahead, make sure he welcomes you. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone with your thoughts... You begin by pulling on your panties, pants and shoes again in the silence that follows Opettaille's departure. Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse to true>> <<set $ch7_pleasure_horse to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"I'm ready..." You tell Opettaille, almost like a whisper. If this is what's needed for the Merciful Goddess to help you, then you must walk this path. But you're not looking forward to being strapped above this thing, unable to do anything as your pussy and ass are forced onto it, grinding against it... Opettaille sees your flustered cheeks... "Excellent..." His words are followed by him walking around you. [[You hear the rattle of chains behind you...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You shout in panic before Opettaille leaves. He stops. Turns. "It's too late now. As I said, your cleansing has already begun. Endure." Then he steps out into the corridor and slams the door shut. With cold sweat running down the back of your neck, you hear the rattle of keys as Opettaille locks the door to your room. Gods... No one knows you're here... [[It's just you alone now...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Opettaille steps out into the corridor and slams the door shut. With cold sweat running down the back of your neck, you hear the rattle of keys as Opettaille locks the door to your room. Gods... No one knows you're here... [[It's just you alone now...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_hang to false>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy to false>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_ass to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Opettaille's footsteps disappear in the distance. Then silence. The only sounds you can hear are the rattle of chains, and your laboured breaths and grunts as you try to find a comfortable position. But nothing works. Soon, you come to the realization that you have a very limited set of options here... You can pull yourself up with the chains on your wrists, momentarily suspending yourself in the air above the torture device. Or you can lower yourself down and thrust your hip forward, making the wooden edge dig deep into your pussy. Alternatively, you can thrust your hip backward, making it dig into your ass instead. Anything between forces the wooden edge into your pelvic bone, which is more painful than you can endure... [[Hang from the chains...]] [[Rest your pussy on the wooden edge...]] [[Rest your ass on the wooden edge...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_hang to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">With a sigh and a grunt, you grab the chains that are attached by handcuffs to your wrists. Then you pull yourself up, just enough to escape the painful edge of the wooden horse... The relief on your pussy and ass is immediate, but your arms are burning. You realize you're weak after the whipping... You're used to climbing and carrying your own weight, and this should pose no challenge at all. But it seems your strength has been literally beaten out of you as you struggle with even the simple task of hovering an inch above the wooden edge... Soon, your muscles are screaming bloody murder... With another grunt, you release the chains, falling back down onto the wooden edge... <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_ass is false>>[[Rest your ass on the wooden edge...]]<<else>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_ass is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_hang is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy is true>>[[Try something else.|Nothing is comfortable...]]<</if>><</if>><</if>><</if>> <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy is false>>[[Rest your pussy on the wooden edge...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png"><<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>With a trembling body, you thrust your hips forward, forcing the wooden edge to dig into your pussy. With a grunt of pain, and a soft moan, you force the wooden beam to part your inner lips until it digs into your vaginal opening... Then you begin a soft rocking motion, hanging from the chains, grinding your pussy against the edge... In a short blissful moment, you enjoy the pain, soaking the wood with your pussy juices as you thrust yourself on it. You can't control yourself... This feels bad... And good... In your confused state and closed eyes, the world is reduced to your pussy and the wooden edge between your legs. There is nothing else you can do than grind... When you angle yourself further you manage to stimulate your clitoris. With a loud grunt and moan, you edge yourself further, the weight and the chains forgotten as you rub yourself against the device intended to make you regret your sins. Instead, you reach new heights of pleasure you didn't know you had. The pressure feels... Nice. The way it spreads your pussy, digs into you... You could get off with this thing if you wanted... Which your aching body wants. Badly. A wave of confused embarrassment washes over you when you realize what you're doing. Luckily, no one was here to witness it...<<else>>With a trembling body, your thrust your hips forward, forcing the wooden edge to dig into your pussy. With a grunt of pain, you feel it sliding into your inner lips until edge dips into your vaginal opening... You grind your teeth, feeling the uncomfortable pain radiating from below, from within. It feels like you're begin split in two, which you quite literally are. But you need to rest your arms, and so you must take it, contemplating just how this act will bring the attention of the God of Mercy...<</if>> <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_hang is false>>[[Hang from the chains...]]<<else>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_ass is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_hang is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy is true>>[[Try something else.|Nothing is comfortable...]]<</if>><</if>><</if>><</if>> <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_ass is false>>[[Rest your ass on the wooden edge...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse_ass to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">When you put your weight back on the wooden horse and thrust your hips back, you manage to sit squarely with your asshole on top of the wooden edge. It digs itself into your flesh, separating your asscheeks so that they tightly embrace the triangular shape of the device, an asscheek on each side. Your stretched asshole rests on the rough wooden edge that threatens to tear it in two. <<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>The pressure feels nice, stimulating you in a strangely sexual way. It feels like the trembling anticipation of a massive cock about to enter your ass, its pressure right there at the entrance of your butthole. When you lower yourself further, allowing the wooden edge to fully dig into your butt and spread your asscheeks, you feel euphoric. Your mind is filled with fantasies of being fucked in the ass, and before long you find yourself grinding yourself against the wood, trying desperately to fill your hole. But the edge is not designed for that, and remains at the entrance, giving you its pressure and nothing else...<<else>>But as long as you don't move, and take deep breaths, you can hold this position for a while... Seconds, or hours, go by, as you sit there with your butthole torn and stretched by the wooden edge as it's pushed deeper and deeper between your asscheeks... Eventually, with a painful grunt, you must shift positions. Your poor asshole feels like it's on fire. Raw, beaten and bruised.<</if>> <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_hang is false>>[[Hang from the chains...]]<<else>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_ass is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_hang is true>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy is true>>[[Try something else.|Nothing is comfortable...]]<</if>><</if>><</if>><</if>> <<if $ch7_wooden_horse_pussy is false>>[[Rest your pussy on the wooden edge...]]<</if>>

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">There's a certain degree of discomfort no matter what you try. Your arms and legs are a shaking mess, unable to keep you hovering anymore. Your ass is sore, violated, and your pussy feels rough and raw.<<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>> However, your mind wanders back to the feeling of the edge between your legs, digging into your pussy and your ass...<</if>> [[Endure the pain as well as you can...]] <<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>[[Ride the edge with your pussy again...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <<set $ch7_wooden_horse to true>> <<set $ch7_pleasure_horse to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"I'm ready..." You tell Opettaille, almost like a whisper. Your pussy is getting wet just thinking about being strapped above this thing, unable to do anything as your pussy and ass are forced onto it, grinding against it... Opettaille shows no hints of seeing your thoughts. Instead, he probably assumes your flustered cheers are a result of religious fervour, nothing more... "Excellent..." His words are followed by him walking around you. [[You hear the rattle of chains behind you...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Rather than fight the pain, you choose to embrace it, making the most out of your uncomfortable situation. Once more, you lower yourself down and thrust your hips forward, allowing the wooden edge to neatly separate your inner lips and dig its way into your soaking wet vagina. The wood is wet with your cunt juices: lubricated and smooth. When you close your eyes and relax into the chains holding you, focusing entirely on the pressure of the wood between your legs, you relax fully. It feels like a big and rough-handed man who knows what he's doing down there is forcing his way between your legs. His massive hand separating your pussy, grinding, teasing you at the edge. When you lean further, you can make that imaginary hand play with your clitoris... And when you shake your body just so, you can make that hand flick your sensitive clitoris, sending waves of oddly relaxing bouts of pain mixed with pleasure throughout your body. With a soft moan, you bite your lower lip in a desperate attempt to feel more, to stimulate your body in any way possible. Then you grind yourself harder against the wooden horse, until your senses are reduced to only your pussy and the device pushing its way inside you, but never entering... Teasing, almost delivering. Almost deli... Your pussy begins to cramp, rewarding your efforts, and your whole body relaxes from the rush of instant relief you feel. With a loud scream, you reach the strangest climax of your life. The orgasm leaves your whole body shaking and weak, even more so than it already was, as you continue to grind yourself feverishly against the wood, giving you continued wave after wave of pleasure. Soon, however, the rough edge reminds you of its existence as an instrument of torture and the pleasure quickly becomes uncomfortable. Then painful. Then unbearable. With a disappointed gasp of pain, you stop what you're doing, shaking, confused and panting. With gritted teeth and sweat running down your face into your eyes, you glance around the room. Opettaille is not here yet... The room no longer feels cold as you strain your muscles in a desperate attempt to find a comfortable position... Fuck. It's starting to hurt... You feel strangely good and extremely bad at the same time, having done something you never envisioned you would. But the moment is gone, and now all that remains is the pain of the wooden horse, the pressure no longer nice, but actively hurtful. With a grunt of pain, you try to shift into a more comfortable position. But you're spent, your body refusing to cooperate. And so you sit there, hovering from chains attached to the ceiling, while your ass is being split in two by the wooden edge between your legs. [[Minutes go by...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png"><<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>Whatever spell came over you, making you flustered and horny of the device, is gone. The pleasure it gave has turned sour. Into pain and nothing more. <</if>>In silence, you shift on the device, pulling yourself up, lowering yourself down, trying to angle yourself differently on the edge. But nothing works. The torture device is doing exactly what it's supposed to do: Torment you. There's no way to tell how long you've been stuck here, but it feels like an eternity. Your muscles are cramping whenever you try to pull yourself up, away from the wooden edge. But as soon as you release the pull, you fall back down, splitting your pussy and ass in two. Your flesh trapped between your pelvic bone and the wood is raw and bruised, throbbing with a constant pain at an increasing pace as your heartbeat soars and breath quickens. You're sweating and cursing, grunting and shifting. Fuck! Where the flying fucks is Opettaille!? [[Curse the God of Mercy for being a cruel bitch...]] [[Endure in silence...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">If this is supposed to bring you closer to The God of Mercy, you want nothing to do with Her... The bitch can keep her fanatics here at the temple. You will not be joining her in blind faith, not after this. Your pussy hurts more than it has ever done in your entire life, including that one time you got a yeast infection a couple of years ago... God's damn this! Why did you agree to sit on this fucking thing? The room no longer feels cold as you strain your muscles in a desperate attempt to find a comfortable position... Sons of bitches... To hell with all of them... Fuck... [[Minutes go by...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Come on Opettaille... Get back here already. What's taking so long...? Your thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion, unable to judge the passage of time. Surely the sand in the hourglass has run out already... Multiple times, you think you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. But nothing happens. No one comes to your rescue, releasing the chains and lifting you away from this torture device. At one time you swear you hear the rattle of keys in the lock, but no one walks in. You remain hanging there, alone, chained to the ceiling by your wrists and ankles, your ass and pussy split open by the wooden horse below you, its pressure constant now that your arms can no longer carry your weight for even a second... [[How much longer must you take this...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Time is meaningless when every second is agony. A sharp, twisting pain seizes your muscles, locking them in place like an iron vice. The more you try to move, the worse the cramps grip, a deep, aching pull that radiates through your limbs. It's as if the very fibers of your body are rebelling against you. Your strength falters... Even the simple movement of pulling yourself up, just a fraction of an inch to relieve the pain between your legs, is impossible. Your every effort is met with a stabbing jolt that flares up fresh pain, hot and unforgiving. Your muscles tremble under the strain, tight as a coiled rope about to snap, and no matter how you shift, how you breathe, the pain lingers. Persistent, merciless, and maddeningly out of your control... The relief you feel when you finally hear the unmistakable sound of keys rattling in the lock to your room is immense. Opettaille, the twisted fuck who had you endure this, walks into the room. He's holding the hourglass in his hand... And there's still sand left to fall... "Oh come on!" You burst out before you can stop yourself. "I see the wooden horse has been most educational." Opettaille comments. <<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>Surely he doesn't see how wet this thing made you...?<</if>> "I can't take it anymore... Please, let me down..." You whimper, your body a broken mess. Opettaille's finger clicks into the hourglass with a sharp tink. "Just a few more minutes..." Opettaille says, then adds with an almost bored tone: "Unless you wish to prove your worth to our Merciful Goddess in some other way?" Another way... What is he on about? [[Ask: "What other way...?"]] [[Fuck... Fine, you'll endure...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"What other way...?" You manage to ask between your grunts of pain. Opettaille faces you with a serious look on his face. "Just another selfless act. Quite simple, really." He begins, then walks up to you and pulls on the chains. The relief you feel on your pussy and ass is immediate when he pulls you up, away from the wooden horse and its painful edge... Then he leans closer, until you feel the warmth of his breath. You can almost taste the rancid wine he's drunk, no doubt while you were hanging here in agony... "Considering your delicate regions are likely ruined and bruised... I will instead use your mouth<<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>, demon's whore<</if>>. Unless you feel your sinful hole can take it. A selfless act if there ever was one, something our Goddess of Mercy would approve of." Use your... God's be damned, he means sex! You realize then from the slur in his words that he is drunk! A cold shiver runs down your spine when you realize you're alone in here with a drunk man who wants to take advantage of you, and you're already naked and bound. Who knows what he'll do if you refuse. Or what he'll do if you accept... Maybe you can simply endure the pain instead and hope there isn't permanent damage? Or take the offered way out... [[With a disgusted scream tell him to lower you back down on the wooden horse!]] [[Gently decline his offer and request to be lowered back down...]] [[Accept his proposal... He can use your mouth.]] [[Accept his proposal... Your pussy needs attention...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "sad_alone">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your scowl is met with a nod, and Opettaille casually sits down on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and takes out a large book, which he promptly begins to read as you curse, spit, strain and sweat against your bindings and the painful pressure of the wooden horse. The hourglass slowly empties, and you stare at it, counting every grain of sand to the rhythm of your heart... The sound of Opettaille shifting in his chair, and the flick of the book's pages, accompanies your grunts of pain. There's something different about Opettaille. He seems.. Distracted. Or confused. Possibly both. When he takes out a bottle of wine and drinks deeply, then hides it in his robes, you realize he's drunk... Drunk! While you're being tortured here... Fucking hell! Speaking of torture... You feel like there must be permanent damage between your legs by now. That your pussy and ass are thoroughly ruined, bruised and abused... And still the sand doesn't go any faster. A few moments later you can see the pace of the sand quickening as the level reaches the slimmer part... And just like that, in a few excruciating painful heartbeats, it's done. The sand is gone! "It's done!" Your shout immediately, startling the reading Opettaille. He hums and nods, then finally approaches you. Come on! Faster... First he lifts you up by your chains, finally allowing you a true respite from the torment. Then he lowers you down next to the wooden horse, until you're resting on your belly on the cold wet stone floor... But you don't care. Your legs wouldn't be able to support your weight anyway... Then he finally unlocks the handcuffs around your ankles and wrists, and with that, you're free. Yet, you lie there, feeling the cool of the stone against your feverishly hot and sweaty skin. Freedom from the pain... Finally... The warmth and light of the God of Mercy fills the room once more, embracing you. The complicated God has seen your selfless act, and finds you worthy. Her immaterial love radiates through you... [[You feel at peace...]] [[You feel conflicted...]] [[You feel betrayed and hurt...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_thoughtful_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Her presence is almost calming, but instead feel uneasy. Her soothing light makes your mind question everything. Her. The trial. She seems to understand you, appreciate you, even though you feel conflicted. Your sacrifices, your pain, have not been for nothing. It has all had a purpose, for She has returned to you. All is well, your trials behind you... No. This is the God's influence. It tries to you convince you that all of this been worth it, in the end... Through your conflicted emotions you still somehow feel a small sense of accomplishment. For enduring. For succeeding in Her trials... A warm feeling surrounds you... [[Embrace the warmth.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_thoughtful_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Her presence is blinding and you feel uneasy. Her light makes you question everything. Her. The trial. She cannot possibly understand you, appreciate you, after everything you've been through. No sane God would demand this from Her followers. Your sacrifices, your pain, have been for nothing. The alternative is that the God of Mercy is, in fact, insane. The blinding light tries to convince you otherwise, showers you with warmth, of approval. But your aching body feels betrayed. Hurt. Has any of this had a purpose? She has returned, hasn't She? Her trials are behind you, and She sees you. Approves of you. No. This is the God's influence. It tries to you convince you that all of this been worth it, in the end... Through your conflicted emotions you still somehow feel a small sense of accomplishment. For enduring. For succeeding in Her trials... A warm feeling surrounds you... [[Give up and embrace the warmth...|Embrace the warmth.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_thoughtful_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Her presence is calming. Soothing. She seems to understand you, appreciate you. Your sacrifices, your pain. It has had a purpose, for She has returned. All is well, your trials behind you. A deep sense of accomplishment washes over you, like the caressing kiss of the warm spring sun after a long and harsh winter. [[Embrace the warmth.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Lower me back down, now!" Your frustrated scream of disgust is met with silence, and you dread his response.. But then he shrugs and casually lowers you back down until your full weight once again rests on the edge of the wooden horse. "Very well. Suit yourself." Then Opettaille sits down on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and takes out a large book, which he promptly begins to read as you curse, spit, strain and sweat against your bindings and the painful pressure of the wooden horse. The hourglass slowly empties, and you stare at it, counting every grain of sand to the rhythm of your heart... The sound of Opettaille shifting in his chair, and the flick of the book's pages, accompanies your grunts of pain. He takes out a bottle of wine and drinks deeply, then hides it in his robes, proving your theory... To think that he has been drinking his worries away while you're dangling here, being tortured! Speaking of torture... You feel like there must be permanent damage between your legs by now. That your pussy and ass are thoroughly ruined, bruised and abused... And still the sand doesn't go any faster. A few moments later you can see the pace of the sand quickening as the level reaches the slimmer part... And just like that, in a few excruciating painful heartbeats, it's done. The sand is gone! "It's done!" Your shout immediately, startling the reading Opettaille. He hums and nods, then finally approaches you. Come on! Faster... First he lifts you up by your chains, finally allowing you a true respite from the torment. Then he lowers you down next to the wooden horse, until you're resting on your belly on the cold wet stone floor... But you don't care. Your legs wouldn't be able to support your weight anyway... Then he finally unlocks the handcuffs around your ankles and wrists, and with that, you're free. Yet, you lie there, feeling the cool of the stone against your feverishly hot and sweaty skin. Freedom from the pain... Finally... The warmth and light of the God of Mercy fills the room once more, embracing you. The complicated God has seen your selfless act, and finds you worthy. Her immaterial love radiates through you... [[You feel at peace...]] [[You feel conflicted...]] [[You feel betrayed and hurt...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"I wish to finish what I started... Please lower me back down..." Your gentle decline is met with silence, and you dread his response.. But then he shrugs and casually lowers you back down until your full weight once again rests on the edge of the wooden horse. "Very well. Suit yourself." Then Opettaille sits down on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and takes out a large book, which he promptly begins to read as you curse, spit, strain and sweat against your bindings and the painful pressure of the wooden horse. The hourglass slowly empties, and you stare at it, counting every grain of sand to the rhythm of your heart... The sound of Opettaille shifting in his chair, and the flick of the book's pages, accompanies your grunts of pain. He takes out a bottle of wine and drinks deeply, then hides it in his robes, proving your theory... To think that he has been drinking his worries away while you're dangling here, being tortured! Speaking of torture... You feel like there must be permanent damage between your legs by now. That your pussy and ass are thoroughly ruined, bruised and abused... And still the sand doesn't go any faster. A few moments later you can see the pace of the sand quickening as the level reaches the slimmer part... And just like that, in a few excruciating painful heartbeats, it's done. The sand is gone! "It's done!" Your shout immediately, startling the reading Opettaille. He hums and nods, then finally approaches you. Come on! Faster... First he lifts you up by your chains, finally allowing you a true respite from the torment. Then he lowers you down next to the wooden horse, until you're resting on your belly on the cold wet stone floor... But you don't care. Your legs wouldn't be able to support your weight anyway... Then he finally unlocks the handcuffs around your ankles and wrists, and with that, you're free. Yet, you lie there, feeling the cool of the stone against your feverishly hot and sweaty skin. Freedom from the pain... Finally... The warmth and light of the God of Mercy fills the room once more, embracing you. The complicated God has seen your selfless act, and finds you worthy. Her immaterial love radiates through you... [[You feel at peace...]] [[You feel conflicted...]] [[You feel betrayed and hurt...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">First, the sound of chains behind you. When you turn around, you notice Opettaille is approaching your left leg. Then, he places a handcuff attached to a chain on your left ankle. Soon after, he walks around the wooden horse to the other side, attaching a chain on your right ankle... The intention becomes clear immediately when you feel them pulled back and up toward the ceiling. With a shocked gasp, you're forced to take your full weight momentarily on your arms. You're grasping the chains attached to your wrists until your knuckles are white as your feet are lifted ever higher. It forces your knees to bend, until you're hanging from the ceiling from chains on your wrists and ankles... When you glance below you, swinging slightly from your chains, you see the wooden horse patiently waiting between your legs... Its sharp edge is merely an inch from your exposed pussy and ass... The chains are uncomfortable, but bearable. For now... You're forced to reassess your situation when Opettaille lowers you down, slowly, and with growing eyes you helplessly witness as you come closer to the wooden horse. Then you feel it. The wooden edge of the triangle, forcing itself between your legs, digging into your pussy at first... Then it also spreads your asscheeks, forcing itself into your ass. The pressure is immediate when your weight is forced down on the wood, aimed into your most sensitive region... "Oh fuck..." You gasp weakly, chained and suspended as you are. Your arms and legs are already shaking from the strain, and the only relief your arms get is when you relax and allow the wooden edge to painfully penetrate you. But you soon discover that isn't a better alternative, and you force yourself up by pulling on the chains attached to your wrists... Your hands are shaking uncontrollably, and you realize you cannot hold this position for long... "Your cleansing has now begun." Opettaille announces and turns the hourglass. Suddenly, the amount of sand in that tiny thing seems unreasonable... "I shall return when the sand has run out. Embrace the pain, and the Goddess will reward you." He says. Then he grabs the hourglass and takes a step toward the door. It's then that you realize that he really is going to abandon you here, alone! Your shaking arms grow tired and you slump down onto the wooden horse in defeat, feeling its uncomfortable pressure between your legs... Opettaille opens the door and is about to leave... [[Scream: "Wait! This is too painful, help me down!"]] [[Silently take the pain...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <<set $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Something about being taken advantage of while you're bound like this doesn't sound so bad. At least not in comparison to the torture of the wooden horse... Opettaille smiles when it's clear that you've accepted the new path to his God's approval and looks you in the eyes. In a single motion, he throws off his robes, revealing a body scarred by thousands of lashes. His frame is almost skeletal, but his muscles are well defined. There's barely any fat on his body, just bones and muscles. But what blocks your vision now is his fully erect member, hovering in front of your face. It's a thick and long cock, oddly out-of-place on such a thin man. You're held up by the handcuffs on your wrists, attached to chains above you in the ceiling. With your arms stretched straight up, and ankles still cuffed, there isn't a whole lot you can do when Opettaille reaches down and pulls your chin up to meet his cock. His penis brushes against your lips, and his eyes shine with drunken delight when you part your lips, allowing him to slide his rock hard cock into your warm and wet mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts. Testing you. Then he goes deeper still, down your throat... Once he hits the back of your throat, you choke, coughing. He stops. "Relax. Open." He instructs and puts his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair... Then he thrusts back into your mouth. You relax, keeping your mouth open while he uses you like a fuck toy... It's better than the wooden horse, you keep telling yourself as his cock slides in and out of your mouth. The pressure of his hand on your head increases, preventing you from pulling away. Which you don't attempt anyway... Drool has started leaking from your lips, down onto your breasts. But he doesn't care about the mess you're making. He thrusts all the way into your mouth, fucking your face. Ruthlessly. You're hoping he's about to cum, but instead he abruptly stops and tugs your hair up like a leash. "You can do better. Use your tongue, show the God of Mercy you're worthy of salvation." He instructs, firmly pulling your hair as he pushes his cock into your mouth again... [[You feel anger in your chest... Bite his cock off...|bite cock off 2]] [[Calmly do as he instructs...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_friendly">> <<set $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">In your hurt and bruised state, you feel a surge of adrenaline as you embrace the rage, anger and frustration that now fills you. This is not about serving the God of Mercy. This is clearly a horny and drunk priest taking advantage of his position of power over novices - something you fear might be all too common in this temple. When he brings his cock forth, parting your lips, you surge forward and take him all the way into your mouth until you feel his shaft in your throat. Then, like a wild beast, you angle your head and bite down as hard as you can with your canine teeth, locking your jaw tight. [[Opettaille's scream fills the room...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <<set $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Something about being taken advantage of while you're bound like this sounds hot. It awakens something within you, something familiar yet strange all the same. Opettaille smiles when it's clear that you've accepted the new path to his God's approval and looks you in the eyes. In a single motion, he throws off his robes, revealing a body scarred by thousands of lashes. His frame is almost skeletal, but his muscles are well defined. There's barely any fat on his body, just bones and muscles. But what blocks your vision now is his fully erect member, hovering in front of your face. It's a thick and long cock, oddly out-of-place on such a thin man. You're held up by the handcuffs on your wrists, attached to chains above you in the ceiling. With your arms stretched straight up, and ankles still cuffed, there isn't a whole lot you can do when Opettaille reaches down and pulls your chin up to meet his cock. His penis brushes against your lips, and his eyes shine with drunken delight when you willingly and eagerly part your lips, allowing him to slide his rock hard cock into your horny, warm and wet mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts. Testing you. Then he goes deeper still, down your throat... Once he hits the back of your throat, you choke, coughing. It feels nice, being used like this. Sucking his cock... It comes so naturally for you... He stops. "You're eager, aren't you? Good..." He comments and puts his hand on your head, digging his fingers into your hair... Then he thrusts back into your mouth. You relax, moaning, and keep your mouth open while he uses you like a fuck toy... You can feel your bruised and beaten pussy coming back to life in painful cramps, growing wet in envy of the treatment your mouth is getting. The pressure of his hand on your head increases, preventing you from pulling away. But you have no intention of doing that. Instead, you lean forward, taking him deeper, willingly choking on his cock. Drool has started leaking from your lips, down onto your breasts. But neither of you care about the mess you're making. He thrusts all the way into your mouth, fucking your face. Ruthlessly. You think he's about to cum, but instead he abruptly stops and tugs your hair up like a leash. "I knew you were a slut the moment I saw you, Taru. Open up..." He comments, firmly pulling your hair as he pushes his cock into your mouth again... [[Willingly do as he says...|Calmly do as he instructs...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">His cock slides deep into your mouth until his balls hit your chin. In and out. For a moment you listen to his husky growls, and heavy breaths, as he fucks your throat. The slippery wet sound of his cock is accompanied by your grunts when you choke on his shaft... As he thrusts harder down your mouth, your boobs begin to bounce up and down. He reaches down, grabbing one with his strong thin hands, groping it. Pinching it. Twisting your nipple. With a grunt of pain, you endure, his cock still lodged into your throat, continuously thrusting into your mouth. Your jaw is aching, your breaths coming in shallow bursts through your nose, which is covered in your spit. You can taste his salty precum in your mouth, and soon it's his turn to grunt. You use your tongue to add pressure to his cock, playing with the shaft, letting the tip of his member brush against the top of your mouth, then slide into your throat. Tears are falling down your cheeks from the choking and gagging, and Opettaille's hand firmly guides your head toward his cock in thrusts that become faster, sloppier. Finally he cums with a loud sigh of relief, straight in your mouth. He pulls out of you with a sloppy wet pop, and you immediately spit a mouthful of his semen into the stone floor, painting them white. For a while, both you and he recover with deep breaths, until he finally snaps out of it and reaches for his robes. "You are an exceptional novice, Taru. The God of Mercy will surely favor one such as you." Opettaille comments as he releases you from your chains, unlocking your handcuffs. [[You realize you sucked his cock because you wanted to.|god of mercy light]] [[You only did it to earn the favor of the God of Mercy.|god of mercy light]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_friendly">> <<set $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">In your hurt and bruised state, you feel a surge of adrenaline as you embrace the rage, anger and frustration that now fills you. This is no longer about serving the God of Mercy. This is clearly a horny and drunk priest taking advantage of his position of power over novices - something you fear might be all too common in this temple. When he brings his cock forth again, parting your lips, you surge forward and take him all the way into your mouth until you feel his shaft in your throat. Then, like a wild beast, you angle your head and bite down as hard as you can with your canine teeth, locking your jaw tight. [[Opettaille's scream fills the room...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You're a rabid dog, mouth filling with his blood as you bite down, chewing, tearing, while the priest screams in agony. But you ignore him. Your heart is filled with something dark, something primal. You sever skin, arteries and flesh with your teeth, ignoring Opettaille when he strikes you hard in the side of your head in an attempt to free his cock. Blood flows from your mouth onto your chin and breasts, until you bite all the way through. Opettaille takes a step back, then falls down, blood shooting uncontrollably on you and onto the floor from the gaping wound that once was his cock. With disgust, you spit out his severed cock that has inflated into a pathetic and tiny shrivelled piece of meat and skin. He's distracted, and the chains holding you up loosen. In an instant, you can move again, but your wrists and ankles still handcuffed to the chains. And Opettaille has the key. Opettaille, who now lies writhing on the cold stone floor in a growing pool of his own blood. "You insane cunt! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!? MY PENIS IS GONE!" He screams, from shock and pain, like he's unable to fully comprehend what has happened. [[Reach for your infernal dagger and finish him...]] [[Attempt to grab the key from his robe instead...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "fear_supernatural_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You do not wish to kill the priest, even after everything he's done. Even while you're still feeling anger, warm and bitter in your chest, like black bile at the back of your throat. With shaking legs, you approach him, naked and drenched in blood. His robe with the keys to your handcuffs is to the side, and when you reach for it and pull it closer, Opettaille stirs to life. In a blinding flash of light, he seals the bloody hole that once was his cock, instantly healing the wound. He's clear a veteran of pain, one could say a fanatic even, able to shrug away the loss of his cock quite easily. You realize your mistake of letting him live when he approaches. "I'll kill you myself... And I'll be doing the world a favor..." He growls, then wrestles for possession of his robes with you, striking you hard in your jaw with his fist. You feel teeth loosen as you hit the ground, and spit them out... But it's clear your body is too weak, too frail, to fight back... Opettaille stands up triumphant, as you lie there, spitting out another tooth. Without a warning, Opettaille throws something at you, a deep green mist surrounding you, blinding you. Your lungs are burning as you desperately try to escape the cloud. But it's everywhere... The bastard is nowhere to be seen as your vision darkens... Before you know it, your head strikes the stone floor. Weak, you stand back up on your knees, only to vomit blood... All of your teeth fall out of your mouth, rattling like discarded grotesque red pearls on the floor... Darkness surrounds you. The last thing you see are your hands on the floor in front of you, your skin boiling, peeling away until only bones remain... 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 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 5: Melted in acid.</h4> This is the end of your story... [[Go back to the fatal decision you took and live an alternative timeline...|bad ending reverse acid 2]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_friendly">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">In another timeline... ... ... ... He's distracted, and the chains holding you up loosen. In an instant, you can move again, but your wrists and ankles still handcuffed to the chains. And Opettaille has the key. Opettaille, who now lies writhing on the cold stone floor in a growing pool of his own blood. "You insane cunt! LOOK WHAT YOU DID!? MY PENIS IS GONE!" He screams, from shock and pain, like he's unable to fully comprehend what has happened. [[Reach for your infernal dagger and finish him...]] [[Attempt to grab the key from his robe instead...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "supernatural_thoughtful_slow">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The basement is quiet and cold as you stand there, your clothes in your hands, your chest and face drenched in blood, your body sweaty and bruised. Exhausted, you slump down on a nearby bench in the corridor, listening to the dripping of water echoing in the dark and damp space. It all happened so quickly... By the Gods. What did you do...? [[You don't regret it for a moment.|what now?]] [[You shouldn't have killed him...|what now?]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_CORRIDOR.png">Yeah. What's done is done though. No point looking back. This isn't the first time something's gone tits up in your life... Focus on the next step, and eventually you'll get through anything. A few moments later, you're either seeing things, or the corridor is growing brighter around you. It's then that you feel it. The unmistakable presence and warmth of the God of Mercy, filling the corridor, embracing you. The complicated God has seen you... Seen what you have done... In a frightened shock, and hurting too much to move, you simply sit there, naked, bloody and hurting, while the Merciful One judges you. She peers into you, seeing everything... Everything you've ever done. Everything you've ever thought. You're more naked before Her than you've ever been in your entire life... And she seems to speak to you, even though you hear no words. But from the warm light alone that now surrounds you, you glimpse meaning. She instills a sense of fear in you, of urgency. Of caution. But of what? She seems to be hinting at a threat from demons, from Piru. You realize that the God of Mercy is warning you. But against what? You already knew you should be careful... She ignores your burning questions. Instead, you feel her warmth embracing you, healing your broken and bruised body, invigorating you. Her light cleanses you, takes away your pain and your weakness. Your skin is bathed in a mist with all the colors of the rainbow, surrounding you, washing away the blood and sweat from you. Then, the mist and warmth inside of you are gone, and the corridor grows cold and dark once more... With new strength and resolve, you... [[Put on your clothes.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">Feeling invigorated, you quickly put on your clothes again, sheathing the infernal bone dagger where it belongs in your belt. Then you begin walking down the corridor, aimlessly at first. Soon, a stranger sensation immediately comes over you. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to walk in a certain direction... With a dry mouth, you stand there, frozen in your tracks, resisting this force. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. It quickly becomes obvious that it is impossible to resist the urge... Something's controlling you as you take a step further into the corridor, back where you and Opettaille originally came from. Your steps feel light, your feet numb, as you walk down the corridor. When you walk past a staircase, you're gripped by an urge to stop. Whatever is pulling your strings wants you to go up, not continue down the corridor. Your panic is increasing as you once again find yourself unable to resist, your legs taking you one step at a time higher, up the spiralling staircase. One floor. Another. A third. This continues six floors up. Then you finally halt... You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger, trying to fight against this invisible force. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The thought enters your mind, making you blush. With your chains gone, you're finally free to slump down onto the stone floor and rest your bruised body. Your muscles are still shaking, hurting, reminding you of the torture on the wooden horse moments earlier. And on the floor below you is a pool of Opettaille's cum, a reminder of your depraved actions... You did not expect the God of Mercy to return, but you feel her warmth and see her light filling the room once more, embracing you. The complicated God has seen your selfless acts, and somehow finds you worthy. Her immaterial love radiates through you... [[You feel at peace...]] [[You feel conflicted...]] [[You feel betrayed and hurt...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">The Merciful One has seen what you have done... But you simply sit there, naked and aching, while the Merciful One judges you. She peers into you, seeing everything... Everything you've ever done. Everything you've ever thought. You're more naked before Her than you've ever been in your entire life... And she seems to speak to you, even though you hear no words. But from the warm light alone that now surrounds you, you glimpse meaning. She instills a sense of fear in you, of urgency. Of caution. But of what? She seems to be hinting at a threat from demons, from Piru. You realize that the God of Mercy is warning you. But against what? You already knew you should be careful... She ignores your burning questions. Instead, you feel her warmth embracing you, healing your broken and bruised body, invigorating you. Her light cleanses you, takes away your pain and your weakness. Your skin is bathed in a mist with all the colors of the rainbow, surrounding you, washing away the dirt and sweat from you. Then, the mist and warmth inside of you are gone, and the room grows cold and dark once more... "Incredible! She favors you, Taru. Truly remarkable, to so quickly be recognized by Her. Embraced by Her." Opettaille says with what sounds like genuine awe in his voice. Well... It wasn't a fucking walk in a park to get Her attention, was it? With renewed strength, you stand up, and begin putting on your clothes once more... Opettaille has seen more than enough as it is... His God favors you after all this? This was the way to gain her attention? You're more than a little bit confused, but who are you to argue about this? You felt Her presence, her approval, and Opettaille seems to have done so as well. "I passed the trial..?" You find yourself asking. Your words are met with a nod. "Indeed! Now, we shall seek an audience with Jokna. You have more than earned the right." Well, it's about time! "I shall go ahead, make sure he welcomes you. Please, take all the time you need to recover, then join me at the top of the southern tower. We will be expecting you..." With those parting words, he turns, simply leaving you there in the basement. Alone with your thoughts... Suddenly, you're nervous about the impending meeting with the elder priest Jokna... [[Stare after Opettaille.|Stare after Opettaille clothed.]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/POET_CORRIDOR.png">For a while, you listen to the dripping water running down the dark stone walls, and the sound of the crackling torches that illuminate this dim basement. You feel... Empty. You've been beaten and bruised, abused beyond your physical limits. All to appease a God you know practically nothing about, to gain her favor, to fight two known evils - the Abyss and Piru. Is putting your faith in the hands of this God of Mercy wise after all? You certainly hope so... Eventually, you feel you're ready to proceed to the next step: the meeting with Jokna, and head out into the corridor. There, a strange sensation immediately comes over you. It's like a tingle in your skin, like a brush touching you, caressing you. And you have an overwhelming urge to walk in a certain direction... With a dry mouth, you stand there, frozen in your tracks, resisting this force. It's like a pulse through your body, with each heartbeat. It quickly becomes obvious that it is impossible to resist the urge... Something's controlling you as you take a step further into the corridor, back where you and Opettaille originally came from. Your steps feel light, your feet numb, as you walk down the corridor. When you walk past a staircase, you're gripped by an urge to stop. Whatever is pulling your strings wants you to go up, not continue down the corridor. Your panic is increasing as you once again find yourself unable to resist, your legs taking you one step at a time higher, up the spiralling staircase. One floor. Another. A third. This continues six floors up. Then you finally halt... You're shaking, sweating, confused and scared. Your knuckles are white, clenching the hilt of the infernal bone dagger, trying to fight against this invisible force. Another long corridor awaits you, filled with ornate statues of the God of Mercy. It looks like all of them are turning, facing you, pinning you with their gaze. You try to resist, but you're forced forward... [[Walk through the corridor against your will.|walk to Poet]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">With gritted teeth and sweat running down your face into your eyes, you endure. But you can't help but think... Why did you agree to sit on this thing? The room no longer feels cold as you strain your muscles in a desperate attempt to find a comfortable position... Fuck... [[Minutes go by...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <<set $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille to false>> <<set $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You just can't take it any longer, sitting here on the wooden horse. It already feels like there must be permanent damage between your legs by now. That your pussy and ass are thoroughly ruined, bruised and abused, and that they will never heal... For some reason, you find yourself nodding your head at the drunk priest's proposal... "Fine... Let's do it your way... My mouth is yours..." You manage to say, head hanging low. "Most agreeable..." Opettaille murmurs. From the corner of your eye you can see the clear bulge of his cock under his robes... In an instant, you feel Opettaille lifting you further away from the wooden horse by your chains, then lowering you down onto the ground in front of him. You land on your knees, still handcuffed to chains hanging from the ceiling from your wrists and ankles, but it soon becomes clear that you're too weak to put weight on your knees. "Feeling weak? Here..." He says, then pulls the chains on your arms up toward the ceiling. With a defeated grunt, unable to do a thing, you let Opettaille pull your arms straight up above your head until your weight rests partially on your arms. The rest of your weight is being supported by your knees where they firmly touch the cold stone floor below you. He's watching you from above, a drunken smile on his face. So, he finally shows his true colors? He claims to be doing all these things in the name of his God, but here he is about to take advantage of you...? [[Feeling vengeful, you plan to bite his cock off...|bite cock off]] [[You'll let him use your mouth... It's better than being tortured by wooden horse...|face fuck by Opettaille]] <<if $ch7_pleasure_horse is true>>[[You're still feeling horny from riding the wooden horse... You actually look forward to sucking his cock...|face fuck by Opettaille liking it]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <<set $ch7_fucked_by_opettaille to true>> <<set $ch7_bite_opettaille_cock_off to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You just can't take it any longer, sitting here on the wooden horse. It already feels like there must be permanent damage between your legs by now. That your ass is thoroughly ruined, bruised and abused, and that it will never heal... Your pussy, however, could use some proper attention. For some reason, you find yourself nodding your head at the drunk priest's proposal... "Fine... Let's do it your way... My pussy can take it..." You manage to say, head hanging low. "Such vulgar language. But most agreeable..." Opettaille murmurs. From the corner of your eye you can see the clear bulge of his cock under his robes... In an instant, you feel Opettaille lifting you further away from the wooden horse by your chains, then lowering you down onto the ground in front of him. He releases the chains from the ceiling, but the chains still dangle from the handcuffs around your wrists and ankles. It quickly becomes clear that you cannot stand on your own legs. "Here, let's use the table..." Opettaille suggests, helping you limp to it. There, he has you bending over the rough wooden surface until your weight rests on your belly and breasts. Before you can realize what's happening, Opettaille has pulled the chains on your wrists over the table, stretching your arms over it and straight away from you. With practiced hands, he secures the chains to the table's legs below. They do not budge when you pull them... It quickly becomes clear that you're now helplessly bound to the table, your full weight resting on its rough surface... So, Opettaille finally shows his true colors? He claims to be doing all these things in the name of his God, but here he is about to take advantage of you...? The rattle of chains below snaps you out of your thoughts. Opettaille has secured the chains attached to your ankles to the table too. You're not going anywhere... [[You're having second thoughts...]] [[Might as well try to enjoy what's to come...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">There isn't a whole lot you can do anyway, bound as you are, so might as well try to enjoy this trial of faith, or whatever you want to call this... Anything is better than the pain of the wooden horse. You glance behind you and see Opettaille, already completely naked, with a bottle of wine in his hand. He's imbibing mouthful after mouthful, ignoring you. His cock stands in a threatening erection, pointed directly at you... "The path to Her light is not easy. You are not supposed to like it, Taru." Opettaille comments, then approaches you with a drunken smile on his lips. Well... You already agreed to this. But apparently he doesn't want you to enjoy yourself. "Don't worry... I will not enjoy this..." You comment softly. Opettaille answers with a chuckle, then places the bottle of wine on the table next to you. "Just like this is perfect..." He murmurs. Then you feel it. His cock, casually brushing against your right inner thigh. With your ankles chained to the side, you're forced to spread your legs for him and cannot stop him when his cock continues its ascent toward your exposed pussy... [[Spread your legs further and let him proceed.|fuck continues]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">"Hang on... This is not what I had in mind..." You protest, suddenly feeling uncomfortable being bound to the table with no say in what happens... You glance behind you and see Opettaille, already completely naked, with a bottle of wine in his hand. He's imbibing mouthful after mouthful, ignoring you. His cock stands in a threatening erection, pointed directly at you... "The path to Her light is not easy. You are not supposed to like it, so that makes this even better..." Opettaille comments, then approaches you with a drunken smile on his lips. Why the hell did you have to agree to this... "No, I'm serious! Not like this!" You protest, referring to your bound and helpless state. But Opettaille ignores you with a chuckle, then places the bottle of wine on the table next to you. "Just like this is perfect..." He murmurs. Then you feel it. His cock, casually brushing against your right inner thigh. With your ankles chained to the side, you're forced to spread your legs for him and cannot stop him when his cock continues its ascent toward your exposed pussy... [[Thrash and scream!]] [[You realize he's not going to stop... Defeated, you let him proceed.|fuck continues]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">You didn't realize what you were agreeing to... Your thrash and scream when Opettaille's rough and calloused hands dig into your skin, feeling their way across your back where you whipped yourself bloody earlier. He ignores your protests as he traces his hands to your sides, roughly brushing against your breasts that are pressed flat against the wooden table by your weight... Then he moves his hands to your back once more, and with caressing round motions moves down further to your lower back, then your hips. With his right hand, he continues caressing your, moving down your leg, while he reaches for the bottle of wine with his left. Throughout this, you've been trying to get away, trying to free yourself from the chains that bind your wrists and ankles to the table. But they're too strong. Your body too weak. You hear him drinking, the sloshing sound of the wine inside is loud in the silence of the damp room. Your body shivers when his unwelcome hand explores your inner thighs, moving up toward your pussy... "Stop!" You scream, but Opettaille ignores you again. "To stop now is to accept defeat and turn your back to our God." He retorts with a mocking certainty in his voice. Then he places down the bottle of wine again and roughly plays with your asscheeks, squeezing them, slapping them. You remain bound, unable to get away, leaning against the wooden table. There isn't anything you can do to stop this... Then his hand moves down again, between your legs, finding your... With a shocked gasp you feel him inserting himself into you, with what feels like at least three fingers. Just like that, without warning. Your pussy, however, takes it like a compliant and eager whore, his fingers sliding effortlessly into you thanks to your wetness that came out of nowhere. You can't help but let out the tiniest of moans when he begins exploring you down there, slowly at first, testing your limits... The pressure increases when he pushes his fingers deeper, then begins to penetrate you with a slow in-and-out motion. You're blushing, confused, bound and naked while the priest spreads your legs further and increases his pace. Why does it feel good? Why is your body betraying you now, when you have made it clear you did not want this? For a priest, he sure knows what he's doing with those fingers... Soon, you're moaning softly and biting your lip in confusion. In anger. At yourself. At Opettaille. At your horny pussy that doesn't obey you... You were not supposed to like this... His fingers expertly tease you, make you want more... And just when things were getting really good, he abruptly stops. [[Opettaille digs his hand in your hair, pulling it...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Opettaille's rough and calloused hands dig into your skin, feeling their way across your back where you whipped yourself bloody earlier. He traces his hands to the sides, gently brushing against your breasts that are pressed flat against the wooden table by your weight... Then he moves his hands to your back once more, and with caressing round motions moves down further to your lower back, then your hips. With his right hand, he continues caressing your, moving down your leg, while he reaches for the bottle of wine with his left. You hear him drinking, the sloshing sound of the wine inside is loud in the silence of the damp room. Your body shivers when his warm hand explores your inner thighs, moving up toward the confusing wetness that now fills your pussy. It's like your body wants this, without asking you for permission... Opettaille places down the bottle of wine again and gently plays with your asscheeks, squeezing them, slapping them. You remain still, leaning against the wooden table. There isn't a whole lot else you can do... Then his hand moves down again, between your legs, finding your... With a shocked gasp you feel him inserting himself into you, with what feels like at least three fingers. Just like that, without warning. Your pussy takes it like a compliant and eager whore, his fingers sliding effortlessly into you thanks to your growing wetness and horny juices. You can't help but let out the tiniest of moans when he begins exploring you down there, slowly at first, testing your limits... The pressure increases when he pushes his fingers deeper, then begins to penetrate you with a slow in-and-out motion. You're blushing, confused, bound and naked while the priest spreads your legs further and increases his pace. For a priest, he sure knows what he's doing with those fingers... Soon, you're moaning softly and biting your lip in confusion. You were not supposed to like this... His fingers expertly tease you, make you want more... And just when things were getting really good, he abruptly stops. [[Opettaille digs his hand in your hair, pulling it...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">He has abandoned your pussy, for now, and instead digs his fingers into your hair. Then pulls you toward him by your hair. The force has you gasping in pain, but you remain leaning over the table, your legs too weak to carry your weight. Your head is pulled back, your neck stretching, as Opettaille pulls your hair further back than is comfortable. Then you feel him. His cock. With a grunt, he slides into your exposed and wet pussy. He stretches you. Rams inside of you, almost like he's attempting to break you. Claim you. He slides deeper within you, his girth stretching you wide, filling your pussy. Something strange happens then. You forget about the fact that you're here to gain the favor of the God of Mercy. You forget that he is a drunken priest, and that you've been tortured just moments ago. All this disappears when your gasps become whimpers, which quickly turn to moans as Opettaille fucks you, rougher and deeper with each thrust. His firm hold of your hair ensures you remain perfectly aware who's in charge here. Who controls your body. Owns it and wants it... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>And it's not Piru this time...<</if>> He is far from done. After a while, he releases the grip of your hair... In a blissful state, you rest your head on the rough and slightly wet surface of the table. But Opettaille's thrusting continues, his own grunts joining your moans as he presses you into the table, making it creak in protest. Your mind begins to go blank, your senses reduced to nothing but Opettaille's cock inside of you. Your body is confused after all the it has been through today, but this it knows well. This it embraces. He speeds up, forcing you and the table forward with a grating sound on the stone floor, an inch with each thrust. His bottle of wine falls to the ground, shattering, but he ignores it and continues thrusting himself into you, his cock impossibly large... You're a moaning mess when the table suddenly comes to a halt, having been pushed by Opettaille over three feet all the way against the wall at the far side. There, it finds stability, and Opettaille's thrusts find new depth within you. Your orgasm is sudden and hard, too fast for you to recognize it before it tears through you in almost violent waves. [[But Opettaille keeps fucking you through your spasms...]]

<img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_BASEMENT_ROOM.png">Your climax rocks your body, but he keeps fucking you through it all. Squirming, spasming, you drag your nails across the table's wood, as far as your chained wrists allow, but the constant thrusts continue. Relentlessly. He's taking you, using you, and liking it... Your second climax is like a hot wave that spreads across your body, drowning all other senses. In your euphoric and confused state you do not even notice that his grunts are getting louder, deeper. You realize he came inside of you, but only after he pulls himself out of you and the hot mess of his semen flows down your thighs. Behind you, Opettaille slumps down on one of the chairs far away from you and the table. The warm embrace of your orgasm lasts for a long time after. It's just you and bliss, your worries forgotten. For a while, both you and he recover with deep breaths, until he finally snaps out of it and reaches for his robes. "You are an exceptional novice, Taru. The God of Mercy will surely favor one such as you." Opettaille comments as he releases you from your chains, unlocking your handcuffs. [[You realize you let him fuck you because you wanted it.|god of mercy light]] [[You only did it to earn the favor of the God of Mercy.|god of mercy light]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_neutral">> <<set $ch7_talk_to_jokna to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/TEMPLE_TOWER.png">He seems to sense something in your expression. "Yes. I'm Jokna Nopsa. Your flesh and blood. Your grandfather. It was I who guided you here, you see. And I'm so glad to finally meet you." He holds out his hand, palm facing up, in an open offer of peace and friendship. Guided you? He must mean the power that took hold of you, quite literally forcing you to walk up here... All the light from the massive stained glass windows seem to disappear as you stare at the man, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Why did your mother never tell you about him... She said he was gone, that he was... Your thoughts are a whirlwind, a mess. Before you know what happens, you're sitting on a comfortable chair. Jokna is on his knees next to you, patiently holding your hands in his. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Your infernal dagger is no longer in those hands... When did that happen? "Where's my... Dagger?"<<else>>"What happened..?"<</if>> you ask, suddenly feeling drunk and disoriented. "Don't worry, everything is alright. It's a lot to take in, I'm sure. You're just experiencing shock, that's all." Jokna explains, a smile on his lips. Slowly, you pull away your hands, glancing around. You're still in the tower with the stained glass windows, but you're sitting at a desk. You must've passed out... "I'm sorry... This is..." you try to put your thoughts into words, but it's hard. It's like a fog has wrapped itself around your brain, refusing to part and bring clarity. But the elder is smiling, reassuring you. <<if $ch7_kill_priestess is true>>"I sense a recent taking of an innocent life in these hands..." He says, calmly, and looks you straight in the eyes. "The priestess did not need to die, did she? But I forgive you, Taru. Blood flows thicker than water, after all..." Somehow, the old man claiming to be your grandfather knows you killed the priestess before coming here... And he forgives you. Just like that? Your head is spinning even more, unable to take this all in. <</if>>Finally, in a short moment of clarity, you say... <<set $linkText to "\"No! Stay away... We can't be related!\"">>[[$linkText|No! Stay away... We can't be related!]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"You know mom's dead, right?\"">>[[$linkText2|You know mom's dead, right?]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Despite everything you've been through, you're genuinely happy to see him. "You clever bastard. Thank the Gods you left that note at the warehouse..." You tell him, then reach out with a beaming smile on your lips, slapping Einar hard on the shoulder, almost sending him tumbling into the tavern's worn and greasy table. "Ow! Fuck, it's good to see you too Taru. Urgh... Bolt." He finds himself correcting, massaging his sore shoulder. "What the hell happened...?" He asks, clearly referring back to the day you were taken by the cult... The two of you sit down, and Einar raises his hand to the innkeeper, who brings the two of you a fresh tankard of ale each. Einar is more right in his question that he realizes... Hell did indeed happen... When you look at the man across the table, you see your <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>best friend, who might just be more than that..<<else>>best friend<</if>>. With a heavy heart, you.... With a heavy heart, you... [[Tell him everything...|tell Einar everything]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch6_einar_date_points to $ch6_einar_date_points + 1>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Your first instinct is to throw yourself at him, and you do just that, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. Your sudden launch takes him by surprise, but he's solid as a rock, not faltering a step. He in turn puts his arms around you, his soft chin resting gently against your shoulder. You've been lost for what feels like an eternity. These past days have been more chaotic than all the days of your life before combined... But now you feel safe. Sheltered in Einar's warm embrace. The two of you don't say a word. There's no need for that. Instead, he holds you tight, gently swaying in a soothing rhythm, healing the wounds of the past in a silent gesture of true friendship. You lose track of time in Einar's arms. To say that you feel happy is too simple of an emotion. The brief respite from the unfathomable cruelty you've been through is not enough to heal the traumas of what you've been through. Slowly, you feel the reality clawing its way back into your mind, stirring like an angry hive of bees inside of you. Ready to sting. There can be no rest, no sanctuary for you, while you remain chained to Piru and hunted by Astorolus... With a deep sigh, you release your tight hold of Einar, and take a tentative step back. He has a concerned look on his face. "What the hell happened...?" He asks, clearly referring back to the day you were taken by the cult... The two of you sit down, and Einar raises his hand to the innkeeper, who brings the two of you a fresh tankard of ale each. Einar is more right in his question that he realizes... Hell did indeed happen... When you look at the man across the table, you see your <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>best friend, who might just be more than that..<<else>>best friend<</if>>. With a heavy heart, you... [[Tell him everything...|tell Einar everything]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">For all you know, Einar could be in on the plot to have you captured and killed by the cult that fatal evening a few days ago. Sure, his note that you found in the abandoned warehouse attic made it seem like he wasn't aware of things. But you can never be too careful... "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad to see you're alive..." You begin, but your body language clearly gives Einar mixed signals. "What the hell happened...?" He asks, clearly referring back to the day you were taken by the cult... In his look, you see confusion. Maybe he's playing dumb, maybe he's genuinely as confused as you were. With a sigh, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. The two of you sit down, and Einar raises his hand to the innkeeper, who brings the two of you a fresh tankard of ale each. Einar is more right in his question that he realizes... Hell did indeed happen. When you look at the man across the table, you see your <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>best friend, who might just be more than that..<<else>>best friend<</if>>. Someone you used to be able to trust fully. Your life, your world, has turned upside down. After careful consideration, you choose to trust in what your heart tells you. That Einar couldn't possibly have known or approved of the plan to have you taken by the cult... With a heavy heart, you... [[Tell him everything...|tell Einar everything]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "very_calm_neutral">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">It feels good to get things off your chest, to tell someone you've known for years about the terrible mess you've found yourself in. A living nightmare is an understatement... Throughout your story, Einar nods patiently, letting you speak. His expression shifts from genuinely sad, to angry, to worried as you recount the events at the cultist lair, the demon's pact, the fathomless hunger, the visit to the doom clock, and the temple of the God of Mercy.<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> You end your tale by telling him of your meeting with Jokna, who turned out to be your grandfather.<</if>><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>> However, you leave out the fact that you're Piru's concubine.<</if>><<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>> There's no need to mention what Tryton demanded in return for his help...<</if>><<if $ch7_wooden_horse is true>> You recall the wooden horse that Opettaille strapped you to, but choose not to mention it to Einar...<</if>> Einar stares at you with wide eyes, clearly struggling to fathom what you've been through. "You realize how bat-shit insane this all sounds...?" He finally says, making your heart sink in your chest. Then he adds: "But... I know you well enough to know that you wouldn't be lying about something like this." He pauses, then looks you in the eyes. "Bolt... By the infernal hells... I'm so sorry. I wouldn't wish those things to my worst enemy..." He finally manages to say, having reached the conclusion that you are in fact not insane, and completely serious. You drink some of your ale absent-mindedly as you wait for Einar to work his way through the wealth of information you've thrown at him. Finally, he too feels the need to boost his courage and drinks some ale, sighing loudly afterward. "I... I do have some questions though. Just trying to understand all of this... If it's alright for me to pry?" He then says, a worried look on his face. Your first instinct is to reply... [["Sure. Ask away."]] <<set $linkText to "\"I'd rather not talk about those things... Tell me what's going on with the gang instead.\"">>[[$linkText|gang explanation]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Einar looks troubled, a deep furrow in his brows. "Ok, so... If we start from the beginning... Lurker just disappeared and abandoned you when you broke into the target's house? To us, he said there was chaos and that the two of you split up..." His questions awaken fresh feelings of bloody murder toward Kerr... "Whatever that slimy whoreson told you are lies. I went in first, with the assumption that Lurker was having my back. But I walked right into the cultist's trap, and Lurker was nowhere to be seen. There was no chaos. Just a cold and calculated ambush, and a dozen spears pointed at me in the dark." You retort, frustrated how it all began. If you'd just been more careful, scanned the room patiently from the window before rushing in... Einar shakes his head. "Fuck Lurker, then. That asshole has always cared only about himself...." His voice trails off. "... You don't think he had something to do with the ambush?" The thought that has entered your mind multiple times during these past few days has finally reached Einar's. "That would explain a lot. Until proven innocent, I'm going to assume the fucker is at least partially responsible." You admit, clutching your tankard of ale until your knuckles turn white. "Shit... Just trying to wrap my head around all this..." Einar massages his forehead with his thumbs, then drinks some more of his ale. "What did you learn of this cult, other than that they worship The Fathomless Hunger - Astrolous, was it?" You nod, he did remember the name correctly from your tale. But then you shrug. "Honestly, not much. But I find it curious that Piru and the other archdemons have a grudge of sorts, or an eternal war, against The Fathomless Hunger. Or as they called it, the Old Poison." Your answer reveals that there is still much you don't understand in the cosmic scheme of things. It feels like you're a pawn in a game outside of your control. An ancient game that has been played for eons between Gods, Demons and Abyssal horrors. It's almost like Einar can read your thoughts, because soon he asks: "And this demon... Piru? How did he end up finding you in the cell... It just seems too convenient to be a coincidence..." Einar's question troubles you. <<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>>You now know, thanks to Jokna, that a demon can lie to a mortal even during the writing of a pact. And so, you can no longer dismiss the thought that Piru didn't have a hand in all of this. But you don't have any evidence to prove otherwise either... <</if>>You say... <<set $linkText to "\"He's been following me for years. Because of my mother.\"">>[[$linkText|continue talk Einar]] <<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>><<set $linkText2 to "\"He might've had something to do with the ambush...\"">>[[$linkText2|continue talk Einar]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">The thoughtful silence that follows your statement is that of mutual contemplation from you and Einar, as you wonder at how all of these things fit together. "... And your mother had sworn a pact to this exact same demon?" Einar finally asks. The nod you give him makes him shake his head. "I don't like how everything is connected...<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> Didn't you say your mother was fighting this same cult, and Astrorolus?<</if>>" He's damned right there... "I don't like it either.<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> And yeah, that's the reason she swore a pact to him in the first place. To help her defeat the cult... Which failed, apparently.<</if>>" You retort, then drink some more ale, slamming the tankard down hard into the wooden table in a sudden act of frustration. Einar seems to share your frustration, for he too slams his tankard into the table. "What exactly did the demon want from you...? You said you had to bargain with the demon, and made a pact with him, to escape. But what does it mean?" Einar asks. There was a reason you didn't tell him of the details of the pact... <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>You really don't want him to know you're the demon's concubine...<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>[[Tell him you're his assassin.|tell assassin]]<<else>>[[Tell him you're his assassin. (lie)|tell assassin]]<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>[[Admit that you're the demon's concubine...]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png"><<if $ch0_piru_accept_sex_deal is true>>There's no way you're going to tell Einar about the sexual nature of your pact with Piru... Instead, you<<else>>You<</if>> tell him that you're his mortal blade. His assassin, able to act in the mortal realm where he as a demon is prevented to do so. <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"Which is why I had to kill the priest Opettaille..." Your voice trails off. "And Jokna...<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> Which we now know was my grandfather...<</if>>"<</if>> <<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>Einar nods, deep in thought. "I'm truly sorry, about your grandfather... Such a cruel twist of fate..." For a while, the two of you share a silent moment for the dead. <</if>>Einar eventually asks: "So this Piru... He has a whole plan here, for the arch demons. To ascend from the infernal realm and become Gods in the mortal one?" Once again you nod, confirming that Einar understood your long rambling tale correctly. "He sees me as a key piece in his grand scheme..." You admit, shaking your head. [[Einar too, shakes his head with frustration.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Your hesitation stems from the fact that you have no idea how Einar is going to respond to the news. Will he see you differently, filled with disgust at the things you've had to do to survive all this? With a sigh, you gather your courage and lean closer, ensuring no one else in the inn can hear you. Einar leans in close too, sensing you have a secret to share. "I uhh... There's no easy way to say this... I'm the demon's concubine.<<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>> And assassin...<</if>>" Einar almost chokes on his ale, coughing , drawing the attention of curious eyes of a few patrons gathered at the tables around you. Your cheeks are burning crimson hot with embarrassment at the attention, but you calm yourself by telling you that they didn't hear what you said. They're only curious why a man is coughing his lungs out... Eventually, Einar gets things under control and clears his throat. "Sorry... Bloody ale assaulted my windpipe out of nowhere." He says, then adds with a whisper: "You're his what??" Then he too glances around the room, as if to check if someone's been listening in on your conversation. Luckily, the patrons have moved on, and it's just the two of you sharing a mildly awkward moment. "His concubine..." You whisper back, suddenly afraid of the word. The silence that follows is deafening, and you can feel a cold sweat running down the back of your neck when you patiently wait for Einar to process things. He looks like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth as if he's about to say something, but stops himself each time. Eventually, he manages to whisper: "Like a - concubine - concubine? As in...?" When you nod, he shakes his head in disbelief. "Hot damn... I don't know what to say..." It's difficult to interpret the look on Einar's face. Confusion, yes. But there's something else... A hint of disapproval? Disgust...? You feel the need to say: <<set $linkText to "\"I had to sign the deal... To survive. Not because I liked it.\"">>[[$linkText|einar continue talk]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"You would've done the same in my shoes.\"">>[[$linkText2|einar continue talk]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">"To me, it sounds like he's been using you all along. Have you considered that he might've set you up, so that he could conveniently "save" you?" Einar asks. The thought has indeed crossed your mind... "The more I learn, the more likely that seems..." You agree, but it's just a gut feeling. Einar nods. "In that case he's probably in league with HD..." Einar reveals, clearly not comfortably with saying Hermes Dirk's full name out loud. No after what happened after the heist... "Really? You know something...?" You ask with a disguised casual whisper, barely containing your surprise as you glance around the room, then return your attention to Einar. "I do indeed..." There's a sad, but mischievous smile, on Einar's lips. "Come on, spit it out! What's happened since I went missing?" Finally some answers... [[Einar begins his tale.|gang explanation]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Einar leans back in his chair, thoughtfully scratching his short beard. "Fair enough. Sorry, I... It's just a lot to take in, is all. It feels like my head is about to burst... I won't ask for details..." His voice trails off, his questioning gaze seeking forgiveness. Which you choose to give, with a nod and a tired smile on your lips. "Yeah, you and me both..." <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>Your thoughts go back to the kiss you and Einar shared weeks ago. Before the heist. Before everything went to shit. How neither of you had time, or courage, to bring it up again. Where exactly did you leave things, and how does this thing affect you? Once again, the two of you expertly dodge the subject...<</if>> Einar eventually breaks the silence by asking: "Right... So this Piru? He has a whole plan here, for the arch demons. To ascend from the infernal realm and become Gods in the mortal one?" Once again you nod, confirming that Einar understood your long rambling tale correctly. "He sees me as a key piece in his grand scheme..." You admit, shaking your head. [[Einar too, shakes his head with frustration.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Einar takes a deep breath, then shakes his head in frustration when he recalls everything that has happened. No doubt he's pondering how to best share everything he knows. "Let me start from the beginning... Clearly, you read my letter right, or you wouldn't be here? So after Lurker came back..." Einar says, using Kerr's code name. "... We pretty much abandoned the hideout at once. In hindsight, I've gotten the feeling that it was all planned, that Eagle and Fox didn't even expect you to return. With Fox in charge, she led us to a new hideout. Too fucking perfect, said they'd been eyeing for a new hideout for weeks." Right, so Ylva took charge, while Arne took a step to the side in this crisis. You nod for Einar to continue. "When the initial shock was gone, Flare and I started asking questions, protesting loudly. That's when hell really broke loose. Sides started forming, and I distinctly recall Boar punching Eagle in the face." You raise an eyebrow at that. Ebbe, punching Arne? That you would've liked to see. "Eagle looked guilty as fuck, in my opinion, but no one was saying anything. Fox insisted that you were joining us shortly, but refused to send someone to scout your location. Lurker refused to tell where you went missing too. It was a cluster fuck. We split up there and then. That's the last time I saw Eagle, Fox and Lurker." Einar's knuckles turn white when he clenches his fist. "We went into hiding, or tried to. Turns out HD's men were out for us. That's when we realized how truly fucked we all were. For the past two days, we've stayed low, silently watching, trying to figure things out, while avoiding his blades. They've been after you too, right?" Einar asks, but you find yourself shaking your head: "So far I haven't seen a single assassin or cultist after me..." To this, Einar raises an eyebrow and sighs. <<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>>"Flare and the little ones have been staying at a rich gentleman. She said you know who it is?" he says. Wait, he's talking about Jeff? Well, Erika is resourceful, that's for sure!<<else>>"Flare and the little ones have not been staying in the same place for long, changing hideouts each day."<</if>> "I, on the other hand, have been staying in the shadows. Watching. Listening." He concludes. Einar suddenly has a troubled look on his face. "Boar's drinking's gotten out of hand since then... And he's been actively hunting for HD's men, rather than hiding like the rest of us. Apparently he and Lurker had a meeting scheduled today, just like you and I had." He reveals. Well, that sounds like Ebbe. "Wait. You're saying Lurker didn't come with you? He chose to stay with Eagle and Fox?" Your question is met with a nod from Einar. "Yeah, the "slimy whoreson" didn't even hesitate." Einar shakes his head in disgust. You need to know... [["Where are Boar and Lurker supposed to meet today?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">"Funny you should ask. Everything seems to be connected, right? Boar and Lurker are supposedly meeting at a small inn 'Greenhouse's Delights', next to the Royal Gardens." The look on his face surely matches yours. "Is that where their hunt for HD's men took them? To the Royal Gardens?" You can't hide the surprise in your voice. "Honestly, after you told me about the doom clock and that Tryton fellow... It all makes sense. Fuck, we should've seen it... Flare and I have had suspicions that HD is somehow related to a cult. Possibly even a high-ranking member, because he's able to pull strings even from the jail he's rotting in..." Einar concludes. Bloody hell... Things have truly come full circle... "Fuck..." Your mind races, trying to connect the dots. Einar leans closer and whispers. "It all started with Snowflake, right? She went missing first, then you went missing. However, her disappearance was shrouded in mystery: No one realized she was gone. But yours? We all knew when it happened." He's not wrong there. Astrid's disappearance a few days before you were ambushed by the cult was as sudden as it was silent. "What exactly ties HD to a cult?" You ask, confused and curious how Erika's and Einar's drew that conclusion. "Honestly, your story just confirms it. The gardens, the doom clock, the fact that you were ambushed by a cult..." Einar begins. "But even without all that... Remember that we paid a visit to HD, well before the heist, Eagle, Boar and I? Well, already then I could see that the man was fascinated with the occult based on the artifacts and tomes in his shelves. At the time, I didn't think much of it. After all, he's a rich son of a bitch who fancies himself a collector of rare items - the diamond being just one example. Everything else just seemed to fit..." He shrugs. "But the men he's been sending after us? I've had a few close encounters with them. Even had to..." Einar makes a gesture of cutting his throat with his thumb. "... The guy was pale as a ghost, tattooed with snakes and krakens and shit from head to toe. And, he was carrying a creepy-looking mask in his pouch. I'll bet my ass that it's the exact same cult that you've described." Einar concludes. Shit... "Maybe it's HD who's been after us the whole time? This demon I mentioned, Piru, might've just seen an opportunity and swooped in..." This is all murky, the detailed muddled, unclear. One way or another, Hermes Dirk is involved, that seems clear as day. Curious, you ask: [["So the cunt is still in jail?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Einar nods at your question. "I confirmed it with my own eyes yesterday. HD is rotting in the royal jail, just like we suspected. I couldn't get to him, mind you... Not for a lack of trying either. Maybe we should've let things slide after the heist, huh? Now it's a fucking war, and we're losing it, Bolt." Einar's tired sigh tells a tale of sleepless nights, worrying sick for his sister, and you realize, of you... "Hey. We're all still standing, aren't we?" You retort, trying to put a positive spin on things. There's a tired smile on Einar's lips. "Aye. That we are." There's a spark in his eyes. A new found energy. To keep fighting. He raises his tankard of ale in a bold gesture, and you raise your own tankard in response. "To those we hold dear. For still standing." Your tankards meet with a muted wooden clink. With a smile, you add: <<set $linkText to "\"To our friends.\"">>[[$linkText|cheer 1]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"May the whoreson rot in hell!\"">>[[$linkText2|cheer 1]] <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>><<set $linkText3 to "\"To us.\"">>[[$linkText3|cheer 1]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_came_from_tryton_question to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">It's a small gesture, this raising of glasses and toasting with Einar. But it feels good. It feels like there is a future where you can look back on all this with relief and say you made it through. Einar must be feeling the same way, for his composure changes and becomes focused. Where there before was a tired, almost defeated, smile, there now is determination. "I think it's pretty obvious what needs to be done. We need to meet up with Boar and Lurker. Boar is surely spending the night at the inn I just mentioned. We should head there and learn what they know." Einar says after finishing the rest of his ale in one go, then he adds: "Gods, demons, curses... I'm afraid I'm of little use in any of those things." His admission comes as a surprise. Not in the sense that you didn't know that - obviously your wordly friend wouldn't know anything about those things. But that he freely admits as much shows he understands just how deep in trouble you are. "Don't worry. I didn't expect anything of the sort. But I might need your help bringing down HD and getting answers..." You reply, putting him visibly at ease. "Good. I'll gladly help, and get a straight answer from Eagle and Fox too... But all that can wait. I still have a thousand questions for you... Starting with this Tryton fellow." <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>He reaches his hand across the table, hoping you'll place yours in his. <</if>>You... <<set $linkText to "\"I'd rather discuss something else than Tryton...\"">>[[$linkText|church questions]] <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>><<set $linkText2 to "Refuse his hand and say: \"What do you want to know?\"">>[[$linkText2|question 2]]<<else>><<set $linkText3 to "Say: \"Go ahead. What do you want to know?\"">>[[$linkText3|question 2]]<</if>> <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>><<set $linkText4 to "Take his hand and say: \"What do you want to know?\"">>[[$linkText4|question 2]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_came_from_tryton_question to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Einar's eyes light up, then he clears his throat. "This... Tryton. What's your read on him?" Einar asks, careful not to say his name too loud in the buzzling tavern. You've established there's a link between Hermes Dirk and the cult, and Tryton certainly has his own link there too. "You're thinking there's a connection between HD and Tryton?" You ask, and when Einar nods, you have to think carefully. "I really don't know..." You confess. The thought hadn't entered your mind until today.<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>> When you next meet him, you'll be sure to figure out the truth... "I will find out, one way or another, if there's a link there. If I recall correctly, he and the cult have a major difference of opinions. I doubt there's warm feelings between them, but you never know..." You confess to Einar, who nods. You already told him that Tryton's been helping you figure out a way to free yourself from the Abyss.<</if>><<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>> Finding out the truth now is going to be difficult. What with Tryton being dead and all... "If there was a connection, it's gone. Tryton is food for the crows now." You admit, reminding Einar that you killed him.<</if>> "Right." Einar replies.<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>> You still haven't told him of the rope-bondage Tryton had you endure, to determine if he could trust you... And you don't feel the need to do so now either.<</if>> "Just trying to wrap my head around all this. How it all connects." He finally sighs, defeated. "Anyway, what about the church and the God of Mercy?" [[You raise an eyebrow at his question.|church questions]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_pieced_eyes_talk to false>> <<if $ch3_discarded_by_temple is true>> <<set $ch7_pieced_eyes_talk to true>> <<else>> <<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>> <<set $ch7_pieced_eyes_talk to true>> <</if>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png"><<if $ch7_came_from_tryton_question is false>>"Anyway, what about the church and the God of Mercy?" You raise an eyebrow at his question. <</if>><<if $ch7_pieced_eyes_talk is true>>"I thought there was something different about your eyes... That's a fucked-up thing for them to do... Piercing your eyes. Gods... I've never heard of a thing like that. They sound worse than the cult! Why would they do that...?" Einar exclaims, frustrated and confused. You totally agree. "An initiation ritual of sorts. Weeding out the worth and the unworthy." "<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>Turns out I was worthy. But who the fuck knows what the God of Mercy was looking for.<<else>>Turns out I was unworthy. Probably sensed the demonic pact or something...<</if>>" Your shrug is apologetic. "Aren't you angry?" Einar asks. "<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>Honestly? I'm just fucking tired of people saying they can help and giving nothing concrete in return...<<else>>Honestly? Good riddance to the fucks. I hope their burn in hell..<</if>>" Your reply is colder, more bitter than you realized. <</if>>Einar looks uncomfortable, like his question has touched a sore subject. "I mean... Did you feel Her presence? Their God?" He finally asks. Einar, always the curious one about Gods, claiming that even the moon is a mighty deity watching over thieves walking in the shadows. "<<if $ch7_felt_goddess is true>>I did indeed. It was He light bathed me in warmth. That She saw me and understood me...<<else>>Absolutely. She's real and powerful.<</if>>" You admit. You could feel her presence as soon as you stepped inside the temple. <<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>>[[Einar asks about Jokna.]]<<else>>[[Einar asks about Opettaille.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png"><<if $ch0_piru_accept_assassin_deal is true>>"First of all, I'm sorry about your grandfather... Meeting him, for the first time that you can remember, only to be forced to kill him..." his voice trails off. The sting of the act still feels like an empty void in your chest, a longing for blood kin that you can never fill. You croak an incomprehensible reply, looking away so that Einar doesn't see the tears that threaten to fall down your cheeks. <</if>>"Jokna must've had a ton to say...? Einar asks, curious what your grandfather might've shared with you. "Indeed he did. Made me question everything I thought I knew. About myself. About my mother. About Piru. Fuck, even the Abyss and the God of Mercy..." You sigh. Things would've been so much simpler if Jokna hadn't shared all he knew with you. Ignorance truly is bliss, isn't it? But that ignorance is gone now, like the last winter's snow under the blazing hot spring sun. Except, no. Not like snow, for your ignorance can never be reclaimed, whereas snow always returns in the end... "He pretty much told me that Piru is a lying sack of shit." You tell Einar, hoping that your demon master is too busy with his schemes to listen in on your conversation. So far, your head has been blissfully silent, and his presence and attention far away. "Some things never change, eh? Those in power, such as a demon who fancies himself a prince, are always sacks of shit." Einar chuckles. An infectious laughter, one that makes you join him in a fit of hysteria. The absurdity of your situation washes over you. Here you are, in a literal triangle of drama, caught between three forces far beyond your comprehension. You're both laughing out loud, catching the attention of patrons around the inn, but you don't care. Oh, it feels fantastic to laugh. Soon your stomach hurts, and reality sets back in. You're truly fucked... Einar has a curious look on his face. "Anyway... Your mom...?" He leans closer and whispers. "... A snow witch, who also happened to be fighting the Abyss...?" He looks worried. "That's what Jokna said, yeah. I couldn't believe my ears, to be honest." That's when Einar tilts his head. "Honestly? It makes a hell of lot of sense." He comments, then elaborates: "You've always been different than anyone I've met. Thought differently. Acted differently. I don't know... I guess I'm just not surprised at all, is what I'm trying to say." He offers you a reassuring smile, certainly having meant nothing ill with his words. Huh. "I'll take that a compliment, but you'd better watch yourself or I'll turn you into a toad!" For a tiny moment, Einar actually looks worried, then the two of you burst into laughter again. A short moment later... [[Einar asks about Opettaille.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">"So this Opettaille character, the priest in the church? What's your take on him?" Einar begins. "<<if $ch3_goddess_eyes is true>>He really promised to help you, but then fell short on his promise?<</if>><<if $ch7_opettaille_dead is true>>... He's dead?<</if>><<if $ch7_jokna_kills_opettaille is true>> Killed by your grandfather?<</if>>" You nod. "Honestly? I think he's one of the reasons people hate the church. People like him." Einar seems to agree with you, after everything you've told him. "Yeah. Yet another fucker who abuses their power, eh?" Einar shakes his head with a disgusted look on his face. "It's always the priests that are the worst..." He mumbles.<<if $ch7_talk_to_jokna is true>> Then quickly adds: "No offense to your grandfather, of course!" None taken, naturally. You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand.<</if>> "So, Eagle and Fox? You have no idea where they're holed up right now?" You eventually ask, changing topics. Einar apologetically shrugs. "The last time I saw them was when the gang split up. Eagle was looking like a shell of his former self, while Fox was even colder than she used to be. Let's hope Boar has learned something from Lurker, eh?" You nod, agreeing. No doubt Ebbe is drunk at the inn. You could travel there tonight, but you'd rather spend at least one night just relaxing and catching up with Einar... The two of you order another round of ale, which Einar generously pays for. You feel tired of talking about yourself and your troubles, and the gang, and Einar's troubles. Fuck. If the world could just be normal for a moment... Einar seems to feel the same way, because soon your conversations go to lighter topics. A welcome distraction indeed... <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is false>>[[The two of you talk about unimportant things for a while...|pre-ambush]]<<else>>[[The two of you talk about unimportant things for a while...|astrid scene]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">You learn that Hulda has really stepped up her game as a cook, making sure Erika and Balder are fed.<<if $ch2_jeff_erika_hookup is true>> Of course, Jeff's resources certainly help in that regard too.<</if>> Overall, they've been doing pretty well, considering the circumstances. After a moment of delightful banter, Einar says: "Well, in case you need to find us, we're at..." Then he leans closer for a whisper: "... A run-down wooden building, a few streets north from our old warehouse. Can't miss it.<<if $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome is true>> Flare says you've been there before.<</if>>" <<if $ch6_maybe_jeff_and_erika_threesome is true>>Indeed you have, assuming he's talking about the house with Jeff's magical mirror...<<else>> Right, those instructions are clear enough to follow.<</if>> You nod, confirming that you'll find them if you need to. [[Shouts echo in the tavern, coming from the door!]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_frantic">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Two cloaked and hooded men with crossbows in their arms burst in, and the innkeeper immediately points a trembling finger at your table. That slimy son-of-a-bitch, did he sell you out, having recognized you after all? They're either cultists or mercenaries, judging from the way the newcomers are dressed. Either way, it doesn't matter. They want the same thing: Your life. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>> Einar shoves Astrid to the side, sending her tumbling in mute confusion to the floor. <</if>>A crossbow bolt flies past Einar when he pushes himself away from the table, missing his shoulder by mere inches. You're quick on your feet, dashing from table to table, keeping panicking patrons and the armed men between you as you make your way toward them and the door. Your infernal bone dagger burns hot in your palm... Another crossbow bolt comes flying, impaling a patron to your right. Blood spews from the deep wound as the man topples, screaming. In the last moment, you jump, land awkwardly on the uneven grease wooden floor and roll to catch yourself from falling head first into a table. The men have no time to reload when Einar's dagger finds the chest of one of them and he descends upon him in a flurry of blades. The man on the right has drawn his shortswords and is approaching you in a duelist's stance... <<silently>> <<set $currentCombatEnemyDescription to "A cloaked and hooded cultist, or mercenary, stands before you with a shortsword in each of his hands. He approaches, swords flashing...">> <<set $passageAfterCombatTarget to "After Tavern Fight">> <</silently>><<if $tip_combat_enabled is true>><<link "Engage the armed man (Combat!)" "Combat Passage lvl2">><</link>><<else>><<link "Engage the armed man (Combat Skipped)" $passageAfterCombatTarget>><</link>><</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "adventure_investigate">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch6/RUSTIC_FORK_INN_COMMON_ROOM.png">Even with an ale in your stomach clouding your judgement, slowing you down, you still manage to dodge every single strike he delivers your way. You can see that his gaze goes time and time again to the dagger's infernally glowing runes. He's the one retreating, even though he has the superior reach. Whoever these men were, they're no match to your infernal blade's thirst when it finally finds an opening. It comes when the man's foot is caught in a fallen chair. For a split second, he's off balance, but that's all the thirsty blade needs. You lunge forward, compelled by the blade, batting away the sword with demonic force like it was a child's plaything. The next thing you know, you're on your knees over the dead mercenary, blood painting the tavern's grimy wooden floors red. It's then you notice the screaming. Patrons of the inn are shouting, cursing, gathering in the opposite side of the room. A glance around shows Einar, who has swiftly dealt with his assailant as well. The innkeeper has fled the scene. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>Astrid, or the shell of her former self, sits on the floor hugging her knees. Eric swiftly walks over to her, grabbing her shoulder and pulling her up. The three of you head for the door.<<else>>The two of you hastily make your retreat, heading for the door.<</if>> The angry shouts of the patrons follow you all the way out. "You weren't joking about the blade..." Einar comments as you step into the silent streets outside. You, however, are deep in your own thoughts and scarcely hear his amused comment. "They're getting bolder, Taru, attacking in a public place like that... I don't like this." Einar then says as you walk further away, disappearing from the scene. "I fully agree, but to be honest, it doesn't feel like the work of professional blades-for-hire." Einar nods at your words. "Yeah, you're right about that... But it feels like we're running out of time, Taru. We need to take the fight to them." You agree. Yet another thing for you to worry about, in additional to your soul and your freedom that is. Einar seems to sense your hestiation. "I hate to say this... But I think it's best if we split up. For now. The guards will be swarming this place at any moment. Go meet up with Ebbe and Kerr. I'll need to make sure Erika and the little ones are fine.<<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>> And don't worry about Astrid. Erika will take good care of her, I promise.<<else>>..<</if>>" You don't like it. Not one bit. But he's right. By splitting up, you can cover more ground. Besides, it's not like you need Einar to talk with Ebbe and Kerr... [[Fine. You'll catch him later. After all, you know where to find him.]] <<if $ch6_kiss_einar is true>>[[Pull him in for a passionate kiss before he leaves.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_love_einar_confession to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"Good luck. And tell Erika and the little ones I said hi." You finally say. "Yeah, I'll do that. Try to convince Ebbe to come back to the hideout with us, alright? No more lone wolves! We need to stick together. Remember: You can do this. WE can do this, alright?" He's suddenly looking quite serious. "Right, yeah. You're right... Well. See you later? Take care Einar..." You say, throwing your grappling hook straight up, attaching it to the rooftop of the building above you. "Yeah see you! Stay vigilant." Einar says, just as you start climbing. [[Focus on what's ahead. It's time to find Ebbe and Kerr...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">He's taken by surprise when you take a confident step forward, like a swordsman does to get inside their opponent's defences. Then your arms are around him, hugging him tightly. You give him only a tiny moment to pull away, and when you sense he's not going anywhere, you firmly press your lips against his. You can feel his arms around your waist as he tries to keep his balance. His lips taste like ale, his moustache tingling your nose in a good way when you open your mouth to let his tongue explore freely. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>Astrid silently watches, making things a bit awkward...<</if>> "Good luck. And tell Erika and the little ones I said hi." You finally say, disengaging from Einar. He catches his breath, awkwardly shiting something in his pants. With an amused and sly smile, you realize that he's barely able to hide his boner. "Yeah, I... I'll do that. Try to convince Ebbe to come back to the hideout with us, alright? No more lone wolves! We need to stick together. Remember: You can do this. WE can do this, alright?" He's suddenly looking quite serious. "Right, yeah. You're right... Well. See you later? Take care Einar..." You say, throwing your grappling hook straight up, attaching it to the rooftop of the building above you. "Yeah see you... Oh, one more thing Taru..." Einar says, interrupting you just as you're about to start climbing. "Just wanted you to know that... That I love you, Taru. Always have." Einar's smile is genuine, but he looks more vulnerable now than you've ever seen him before. You say... [["I obviously love you too, Einar! Always have."]] [["And I really like you a lot, Einar."]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_love_einar_confession to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">The words come easy. You do love him! Why wouldn't you? There's been something new between the two of you ever since the scouting mission, and the visit to the saunas in the harbor. But in truth, you've felt something much before that. All you needed was to mature enough to know what it was you were feeling. And for Einar to realize his feelings too. With a smile on your face, you begin the climb up to the roof. When you glance back down, you see Einar smiling back. [[Focus on what's ahead. It's time to find Ebbe and Kerr...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_love_einar_confession to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">For whatever reason, saying the words back feels... Wrong, but you do not want to hurt his feelings. Maybe you want to protect him from what you've become. From what you've done, or will do... Or maybe you want to protect yourself from getting hurt. You begin the climb up to the roof without glancing back, not daring to see the disappointed look on his face. It's better this way. [[Focus on what's ahead. It's time to find Ebbe and Kerr...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">You reach the rooftop with determined strides, stashing your grappling hook and rope in your toolbelt. When you glance down, Einar is gone. A Shadow indeed, you muse, then turn your gaze toward the Inner City Gardens. It's late, with the sun already down, but you can clearly see your path across the rooftops on this moonlit night. Besides, the northern sun is never far below the horizon, casting an afterglow on the city that is reflected from the mountaintops. A stark contrast indeed, where nights during the summer like day can be brighter than the days in the cold winter. It's time to meet and confront Ebbe and Kerr... [[Head to the Inner City Gardens...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">The way to the Inner City Gardens, and the tavern where Ebbe and Kerr are supposedly meeting today, is uneventful. However, that does not stop you from constantly checking over your shoulder and jumping at shadows. An ambush could be waiting anywhere... Somehow you've avoided their blades so far, but Einar apparently has not been so lucky. You can't help but wonder why he has been an active target ever since that infernal night at the cultist's lair... While you have not been. You shrug those thoughts aside. Your guess is as good as anyone's, and right now you don't need more speculation and uncertainties. You want answers. Answers that you may or may not get from Ebbe and Kerr... [[You arrive at the inn called Greenhouse's Delights.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_upbeat">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">You've avoided the garden by keeping to the rooftops, circling its perimeter. Somewhere within lurks the Doom Clock, but that is not your destination now. No, your path takes you down to the cobblestones on the street level, and further down the alleys. The sound of music guides your way tonight. When you turn another corner, you see light and hear the music louder than before. When you get closer still, you see that the tavern is nestled low among curling vines and flowering hedgerows, practically built at the edge where the Inner City Garden ends and the rest of Valkama begins. Your steps take you closer and you see the structure more clearly. Bricks, old and painted in cheerful, weather-faded hues, peek out from under the wild tangle of green. Vines crowd the walls, thick as ropes in some places, and thinner tendrils curl like curious fingers around lantern hooks and windowsills. Tiny white blossoms dot the greenery, blinking like stars in the flickering lamplight. The sign above the door swings in a lazy arc, creaking softly. In swirling, hand-lettered script you read: Greenhouse's Delights. The music is spilling into the night through the open window. A bright, rolling tune plays quick and nimble on a fiddle, underscored by a low thump of a drum and voices raised in song, off-key and full of joy. The scent of roasting meat and warm bread comes tumbling out after it. Damn... This place seems... Classy and cozy? What is Ebbe doing in a place like this? This seems more like a place where Kerr would like to spend time. But Ebbe is a man of simple tastes. Just give him an ale, and he's happy. Regardless of his surroundings. ... Why are you suddenly feeling anxious? [[Push the feeling aside and enter the tavern.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">The music smacks into you like a physical wall. All around you are smiling faces, laughter, singing and merriment. When you see the copious amount of ale on each table, you reconsider. Maybe this place is perfect for Ebbe after all... You scan the room, but the crowd of people makes it hard to see a familiar face. The innkeeper waves you over. Your steps take you through the room to the counter, but your eyes keep scanning the room. "Welcome to my fine inn, young miss! Please, enjoy all our delights... We have plenty. What's your poison?" The tall fat woman behind the counter says, a beaming smile on her face. You must admit to yourself that this place looks a lot cleaner than the last... You lean on the counter with your elbows. "I'm afraid I'm not here to drink. Not tonight. I'm looking for someone. Supposed to meet him here. Tall, big guy. More a boar than a man, really..." The woman's eyes shine like pearls in the cozy candlelight. "Ohh-oh! You must mean the charming gentleman, Ebbe! Such a great customer..." Charming gentleman? Ebbe? Urgh... Careless of him to use his own name too... But these comments you keep to yourself. Instead, you say: "Ebbe, that's the one! He wouldn't happen to be here tonight?" Your eyes scan the room once again. It would be hard to miss a man the size of Ebbe, even in a crowd... "Ah, your friend already left." The innkeeper says with warmth. "When, exactly? Did he happen to mention where..." You fear the trail has already gone cold... "Mere moments ago, actually. Took a left out of my tavern here, saw it through the window I did. That's all I know..." [[You're already out of the door before she has a chance to finish her sentence.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "danger_sneak">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"You're welcome dear!" The innkeepers faint voice calls out into the night after you. You also came from the left... How the fuck did you miss him? When you rush back, retracing your steps, you come to a crossroads. You came from the right alley, which means Ebbe must've taken the one on the left... Your laboured breaths and footsteps on cobblestone echo in the night as you rush in the direction you believe he took... Come on, how far has he managed to walk in his no doubt drunken state? Your heart sinks when you turn the next corner. A hulking mass of a man is lying face-down in the streets in a pool of his own blood. He's motionless, silent and stiff as a corpse... Ebbe...? Your lungs burn and your vision blurs when you witness the scene before you. Surrounding the fallen Ebbe are five dead cultists with cracked skulls and broken arms... And three more, still standing amidst the carnage. Just like the ones who ambushed you and Einar at the Rustic Fork Inn. Your arrival has not gone unnoticed, and the men now turn your way. The one closest to you takes a step closer, shouting and pointing. A sharp twang echoes in the alley, interrupting him. He chokes, gurgles and spits blood with a confused look on his face. Then you see the reason why... A crossbow bolt is buried deep in his back when he falls stone dead among his comrades. The remaining two mercenaries look uncertain and confused, but act on instinct, running straight at you. You fumble with the infernal dagger. Another sharp twang sings in the night before they men reach you. The one on your right falls head-first into the brick wall next to him, impaled by the thick shaft of a heavy crossbow bolt. The remaining mercenary keeps running, aiming for the gap between you and the alley to your left. He's had enough. But you have not. A carefully placed leg is all you need to trip the man as he runs past you, causing him to come crashing down hard into the stone street. There's a satisfying crunch when he his nose hits the ground. [[A figure approaches you from the shadows.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kerr_guilty_thoughts to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"Well, holy shit... Taru? You're alive?" Kerr's surprised voice greets you as he walks out of the shadows into the middle of the carnage. He's wearing thick dark leather armor that covers his entire body, and a hood and cloak, the color of midnight. In his hand is his trusty pull-action crossbow, which is loaded, pointed at the fallen cultist who's trying to stand up after his fall. "Kerr... What is..." The twang of his crossbow firing interrupts you. The cultist stops dead in his tracks, joining his comrades in the afterlife. "Didn't expect to find you here, alive..." He comments, strapping his crossbow over his shoulder. "Nevermind me! Is Ebbe...?" Your gaze finds the boar of a man, in the middle of the street. Silent and unmoving as a statue. "Dead? Yeah. Ambushed by eight fucking cultists..." You choose to ignore his comment as you rush to Ebbe, trying to turn the giant of a man onto his back. A few painful grunts later, you manage just that, and it is then you see that Kerr is right. Ebbe has been stabbed and slashed a dozen times, the wounds oozing with green puss. Poison... "Ebbe... I..." Your mind is blank as you stare at your fallen friend. Kerr, the cold bastard as he is, simply observes you as you try to process what has happened. "Where the fuck were you!? He was supposed to be meeting you!" You suddenly ask, rising up, finding your anger. You point an accusing finger at Kerr, who raises a confused eyebrow. "Aye, he was! And here I am, just like you. Too fucking late to do shit about it." Kerr replies, equally angry. Your blood boils hot, and you say... [["You're the reason we're in this fucking mess, Kerr!"]] [["You'd best start explaining exactly what the fuck happened that night at the cultists..."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">Your angry accusation is met with an equally angry frown from Kerr. "My fault!? How the fuck is this my fault?" His question does nothing to calm you down. Your anger is boiling over, like a kettle left on the fire, steaming with fury. "You delivered me straight into an ambush, then abandoned me! And here you are, leading Ebbe straight into an ambush too!" You glare at Kerr, who crosses his arm in a defiant posture. "Calm your tits, Taru! Fucks sake... I didn't know it was an ambush we were walking into until you were surrounded by a dozen of Hermes Dirk's men with spears... There wasn't anything I could do to help you, so I ran back to the hideout as quickly as I could..." If he is lying, he's doing a hell of a job acting sincere. "And Ebbe... Gods damn, we were supposed to be meeting tonight. I had nothing to do with this ambush!" He glances around the corner of the street, then returns his attention to you. You almost believe him... [["You'd best start explaining exactly what the fuck happened that night at the cultists..."]] [[You've seen enough to know he's guilty of incompetence...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">Kerr raises an eyebrow. "Cultists? What the fuck are you on about? These are Hermes Dirk's men..." So he doesn't know, or plays stupid. "The things I've seen would make you scream in horror, Kerr. They're a fucking cult of The Fathomless Hunger, and Hermes Dirk is likely the leader of the whole fucking lot of them." Your revelation comes as a total surprise to Kerr, who despite his best efforts has not managed to figure this out. "If you would bother interrogating these fuckers before killing them..." You point to the last cultist he killed. "... Then you might've figured it out by now." Kerr looks at the corpses littering the street in confusion. "The hells... This doesn't make any sense..." Kerr is clearly deep in thought, trying to figure out what it all means. "Let me do the thinking here. Just tell me what happened when I was ambushed. Einar told me the basics..." Finally, Kerr's shoulders relax. "Fine... Fine! You know the gang split up after you disappeared? And you also know that it was Arne and Ylva who got us that contract? Well... I think they both knew exactly what was going to happen. Ambush and all." Kerr's voice is serious. No... Wait, what is he saying? "... What do you mean?" You as with a trembling voice. "I mean that Arne struck a deal with Hermes Dirk, encouraged by Ylva. Your life for Astrid's, and an end to the whole fucking mess." Finally it's all starting to make sense... Gods be damned how blind you've been. Of course... Arne had been desperate and griefing Astrid when she disappeared. Captured by Hermes Dirk's men... And in desperation, encouraged by Ylva's stone cold heart, he struck a deal with him. Your life for hers. "Why me..?" You find yourself asking, accepting the truth in Kerr's words. But Kerr shrugs at your question. "I have no idea. It seems Hermes Dirk hosts some animosity toward you, Taru. But I have no idea why. Arne and Ylva would probably know..." Well. That settles it, then. You have to find and confront them... [["Do you know where they are?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kerr_guilty_thoughts to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">At best, he's an incompetent, irresponsible liability who's failed two of his friends already. At worst, he actively has a hand in all of this. Selling out his gang for personal gains? Of course that doesn't explain why he helped you now with the cultists... Unless he's playing both sides. For now, you want to get as much information out of him though. Grill him... [["You'd best start explaining exactly what the fuck happened that night at the cultists..."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">Kerr tilts his head. "As a matter of fact, I do. Well, only Ylva..." You interrupt him: "Wait, hang on... Einar told me that when the gang split up, you chose to join Ylva and Arne, rather than the rest? Why, if I may ask...? And you're telling me you've lost contact with them since then?" Kerr nods at your questions. "Yeah, I stuck with Ylva and Arne. Unlike the others, I stick with the established leadership... Well, until I realized what they'd done. Then I contacted Ebbe and... Well, here we are." His sigh reveals that he's telling the truth. Then he adds: "Before I tell you were you can find Ylva... Pray tell, where the hell you have been this entire time? How did you escape the ambush?" Naturally, he would be curious. But you're unsure if you trust him with the details... [[Lie.]] [[Tell the truth.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_lied_to_kerr to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">You take a deep breath, then explain the timely arrival of Piru and the deal you struck to escape. You explain how The Fathomless Hunger has a hold of your soul, and that you've been trying to get rid of it. You do not go into exact details how, though... "Holy shit... If you're telling the truth, then truly I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I could help with all of that, but..." He shrugs apologetically. Bastard. But you didn't expect him to be able to help you either. But still, he's a bastard. "Now, about Ylva and Arne..." [[He starts explaining.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_lied_to_kerr to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"They threw me in a cell, but I picked the lock and got out. I've been staying with Einar and Erika, trying to figure out what happened." Your lie is accepted by Kerr, who nods his head. "Fair enough... Now, about Ylva and Arne..." [[He starts explaining.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"There's been a rift between Ylva and Arne. They split up shortly after the gang fell apart." Kerr begins. "She's staying in a BDSM club or something, working as a dominatrix... Somewhere between the Industrial District and the Industrial Harbor." <<if $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex is true>>Wait... That sounds familiar. Is she staying at the same place where you and Erika witnessed... Something that is etched into your mind. The memory of Ylva dominating Arne...<<else>> Well, that's as good a clue as any... Surely there cannot be that many clubs that cater to that sort of taste?<</if>> But still, you find it baffling. "What!? She's working as a dominatrix... While the rest of us are hunted down by Hermes Dirk's men, she in there... Working? Having fun?" You shake your head in confusion. "Aye. Invitation only, or so I've heard. She's actually pretty safe in there, I suppose..." Kerr looks thoughtful. "You know, I actually think we're in this mess because of you." His sudden accusation takes you by surprise. "How the fuck is this MY fault!?" You're the victim here, how dare he insinuate anything else... "Well, think about it. Hermes Dirk thinks Arne and Ylva played him, since you escaped the ambush. It's like pouring salt on a wound. The guy has been obsessed with us ever since we put his ass in jail. Understandable, of course... And now it's a full on war. It all makes sense." Hmm, does it? There's got to be something here you're missing... "If there's anyone whose fault this is, it's Ylva and Arne. And Hermes Dirk." Your comment is met with a slow nod of acceptance from Kerr. When you look at Kerr, you see a man who's prepared. But when you glance at Ebbe, lying dead on the cobblestones, your heart weeps. But you now know more than enough to pursue things further, and confront Ylva and hopefully Arne... But Kerr, what's his role in all of this? A victim like Einar and you, who didn't know about the ambush and the cult? You're unsure if you can trust him and tell him where Einar and the rest are hiding... A pulsing warmth from your belt reminds you of the presence of your infernal bone dagger. When you place your hand on the sheath, you can feel it. The blade has sensed the blood and death surrounding you in the street, and it wants its share... To kill the man who abandoned you to the cult in the first place. The root of all evil you've witnessed these past few days... [[Keep the blade in its sheath. No more blood will be spilled tonight.]] [[Listen to the infernal blade. Kerr needs to be punished for betraying you, and failing Ebbe.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kill_kerr to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">Kerr does not deserve to die, even though he failed you that night. And failed Ebbe today. No. There wasn't anything he could've done in either situation to help. And he's trying his best to hunt down Hermes Dirk's men, just like Einar. Just like you. He is, thus, on your side. "What's your plan now?" You ask, genuinely curious. "Well, I was going to tell Ebbe that he should stop with his drinking and start bashing in skulls..." He gestures at the carnage around you. "... But that plan went to shit. I'm going to take this fight to the root of the problem: Hermes Dirk." You cross your arms. "You do know he's locked in the highest security prison in Valkama?" Your question is met with a shrug and a nod. "I'll find a way to gut the fucker, one way or another." [[Tell him you'll join his hunt.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">"Don't do anything stupid alone now. I'll join you. And I have no doubt Einar will want to join us as well. We'll take him down, together." Your words bring a smile to Kerr's face. A sad, tired smile, you realize. "Good. There's a bunch of things I need to do first, to prepare. The day after tomorrow. Midnight. That's when we'll strike." Fine. That gives you a bit of time to tie up loose ends and confront Ylva too... "I'm supposed to meet the rest of the gang at their new hideout. Erika, Einar, Hulda and Balder are all there. <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is true>>We lucked out and got Astrid back too, although she isn't herself...<</if>>" Kerr snorts. "Putting the gang back together, eh? Well, fuck me sideways. If they'll have me, I'd be happy to join. Where's the new hideout?" After everything that's happened... You cannot throw away a useful ally. You need Kerr on your side, and you need Einar and the rest to also accept him back. Despite everything that's happened. [[Tell him where to find the gang.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">He nods, then takes a determined step in the opposite direction, but stops and turns around. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it was good to see you, Taru. Keep your eyes open for trouble. I'll see you the day after tomorrow, at the latest..." You nod, relaxing your tense posture. "The feeling is mutual, Kerr. Stay safe." He nods and smiles, then disappears into the darkness of the night. It's time to get the hell out of here before guards show up. You give a final glance at Ebbe, lying still as a statue, pale and sickly green from the poison. "I'm so sorry, big guy..." Then you're off, grappling hook reaching for the rooftops. [[You reach the rooftops...|on rooftops]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kill_kerr to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">Kerr is so close now. All you have to do is reach for your infernal bone dagger and let it do what it does best. You cannot forgive him for what he did. Abandoning you like that at the cultist's lair... He should've had your back... It happens in the blink of an eye. As soon as you think about reaching for your dagger, it's over... Kerr stands on wobbling legs, blinking at you in confusion, dagger impaling his heart, straight through all the layers of armor and protection he is wearing... His eyes seek understanding, and he leans on you for support... When you pull away the blade and take a step back in digust, he falls, silently joining Ebbe and the dead cultists on the cobblestones. Then he's still. Dead. Your ears are ringing, but the blade is ecstatic. With trembling hands, you sheath the blade once more. The rush of hatred you felt toward Kerr in the moment is gone, replaced by a strange muted silence... A silence that is broken instantly when the shout of guards jerk you from your thoughts. Took them long enough... A scared citizen must've witnessed Ebbe's brawl and ran for help... You give a final glance at Ebbe, lying still as a statue, pale and sickly green from the poison. "I'm so sorry, big guy..." Then you're off, grappling hook reaching for the rooftops. [[You're gone before the guards find you...|on rooftops]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch7_kill_kerr to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">The blade might be thirsty for blood, and your blood is boiling with anger... But you do not reach for the blade. Doing so would no doubt spell the end of Kerr, with the blade taking control. No, instead you channel your anger and frustration into a fist as hard as steel... A meaty crunch is followed by Kerr's surprised yelp when your fist connects with his nose, sending him staggering into the alley's brick wall behind him. Blood is pouring freely onto his chin and mouth, further down his hands and arms as he tries to control the bleeding. "What... The... Fuck... Was... That... For...!?" He manages to stutter, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood. "For getting Ebbe killed. And abandoning me." You say with a cold voice. Your fingers hurt from the impact, and you give your hand a few well-earned shakes, massaging your knuckles. "We're even now." You add when Kerr stares at you with wild eyes. "Mother-fuck... Broke my fucking nose..." Kerr mutters under his breath. He takes a firm hold of his nose and twists it straight with a painful grunt. More blood pours from the nose, but he ignores it. Then he reaches into a pouch tied to his belt, roots around while blood pours down his leather armor, then picks up a transparent vial. It looks like a fancy, tiny, bottle of water with petite silver decoration. He uncorks it, releasing a soft mist, and holds his nose in the vapors. To your astonishment, Kerr's nose stops bleeding before your eyes. He wipes away the excess blood, puts the stopper back on the vial, and returns it to the pouch. "Fine... I guess I deserved that." He muses, giving you a wicked smile. His teeth are red from the blood that poured into his mouth, but he's no longer bleeding. "That's some fancy magic you've got there..." You comment, nodding at his pouch. "Don't ask. I won't betray my source." He says with a wink and a smile. Fine. Keep your secrets. You do feel a lot better now though, having released some of your anger. "What's your plan now?" You ask, genuinely curious, changing the topic from Kerr's nose to more important subjects. "Well, I was going to tell Ebbe that he should stop with his drinking and start bashing in skulls..." He gestures at the carnage around you. "... But that plan went to shit. I'm going to take this fight to the root of the problem: Hermes Dirk." You cross your arms. "You do know he's locked in the highest security prison in Valkama?" Your question is met with a shrug and a nod. "I'll find a way to gut the fucker, one way or another." [[Tell him you'll join his hunt.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ALLEY.png">The hatred searing from the blade is tangible and hot, a reminder that the entity within is inhuman, full of power and malice. But you agree with its sentiment. Kerr not only betrayed you that night, he failed to protect Ebbe as well. You will have your revenge, for all the things you've had to ensure since you escaped the cult. Everything that has happened can be traced back to Kerr, Ylva, Arne and at the top of the iceberg: Hermes Dirk. But right now, the closest target for your fury is Kerr. It doesn't matter that you used to be in the same gang. It doesn't matter that he too is being hunted by Hermes Dirk's men. What matters is that you cannot let it go. You will not drop this and forgive him... You take a few casual steps in his direction, with murder on your mind. The infernal bone dagger rests in its sheath, for now, as you approach Kerr... "Kerr..." you announce, getting closer, masking your feelings. He raises an eyebrow, but does reach for his weapons. He doesn't suspect a thing. "...Yeah?" He asks, curiosity rather than caution in his voice. You're now three feet from him, close enough to lunge... [[Reach for your blade and kill Kerr.]] [[Punch him in the nose instead.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_calm_loss">> <<set $ch8_dominate_drunk_table to false>> <<set $ch8_drink_wine to false>> <<set $ch8_trytons_men_open_jail to false>> <<set $ch8_know_that_astrid_is_husk to false>> <<set $ch8_dominate_dani to false>> <<set $ch8_has_club_invitation to false>> <<set $ch8_sleep_with_einar to false>> <<set $ch8_sex_with_dani to false>> <<set $ch8_gang_knows_kerr_is_dead to false>> <<set $ch8_gang_knows_you_killed_kerr to false>> <<set $ch8_piru_slut_curse to false>> <<set $ch8_watch_scenes to false>> <<set $ch8_willing_pillory to false>> <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is false>> <<set $ch8_astrid_reveal_from_tryton to true>> <<else>> <<set $ch8_astrid_reveal_from_tryton to false>> <</if>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png"><h4 style="font-family: ForgottenUncial, Verdana">Chapter 8 - Domina</h4>After walking for a while, tossing and turning the new information you've gathered from Einar and Kerr in your mind, you come to a conclusion. Arne might have acted in self-interest, to protect Astrid. A desperate parent would do anything to get their child back after all, that you can understand. But it puts you in the awkward position of being the chip being bargained with. The price that needed to be paid. And Ylva, likely urging him to take the deal... Fuck. <<if $ch7_kill_kerr is false>>Right now you don't know if you can forgive them...<<else>>You couldn't forgive Kerr for his part in your suffering, and you most certainly cannot forgive theirs either...<</if>> But you know that you'll have to meet the rest of the gang as soon as possible... <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is false>>However, first you feel the need to pay a visit to Tryton, and ask him some very important questions... You recall that night at the warehouse when he first contacted you, creeping into your dreams. What was it he said about it? That it was not a dream, but a visitation. A manifestation. Right. You feel the connection to the abyss within you, and reach out, thinking of Tryton where he sits in his doom clock...<</if>> <<if $ch4_dead_tryton is false>>[[At first, you feel nothing.|tryton path chapter 8]]<<else>>[[You run across the rooftops of Valkama to where the others are hiding...|gang meetup chapter 8]] <</if>>

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "mystery_calm">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">The silence of the night greets your questing thoughts. Then, to your great surprise, you feel it... Like a curious and careful fish nibbling at the bait of a fishing rod, barely stirring the waters... "Well well! Is that you, Taru, stirring the waters of the void?" Tryton's voice is barely audible in your mind and distorted, deep, like he's miles away or under water. In your mind, you think back: "Good evening, Tryton. Yes, it's me. Don't ask how I'm doing this..." His amused chuckle echoes in your skull. "Most impressive indeed. <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>I was right to take you under my wing. You clearly have a lot of potential... Speaking of which, are you ready to continue our path of learning and our lessons?<<else>>I'm curious though. What is it you want? The last time we spoke, you made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me.<</if>>" <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>You recall quite vividly his last 'lesson' with the ropes...<<else>>He's right about that. You did dismiss his offer to help...<</if>> "<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Yes, I am. I have a ton of questions too...<<else>>You're right... But I have some questions, and I believe you're the only one who can answer them.<</if>>" You reply, thinking back at what Einar told you about Hermes Dirk. "Is that so? Well. Questions are the way to wisdom, after all. If a student merely sits and listens, they never engage with the subject matter." Tryton muses. Right, whatever that means. "So, this is strictly business?" He then asks, to which you reply: [["Yes, strictly business."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_raining_calm_piano">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">A storm is gathering over the sprawling metropolitan city of Valkama as you make your way across the rooftops toward your destination.<<if $ch8_astrid_reveal_from_tryton is true>> The shell of a woman, supposedly Astrid, tags along at a slower pace. She truly can be Astrid, given how well she handles climbing rooftops. Almost like she's used to this sort of thing...<</if>> A heavy rain pours down before long, slowing you down further. It's in the middle of the night, and it's getting hard to see. Fuck... How in hells are you supposed to find the hideout in this darkness? Well, that's a problem you'll tackle once you're in the right district... Two slow, cold and wet hours later, you <<if $ch8_astrid_reveal_from_tryton is true>>and the shell of Astrid<</if>> arrive in the industrial harbor, at your gang's old hideout. From here, you should be able to follow the streets north until you find the run-down wooden building Einar described<<if $ch6_jeff_and_erika_threesome is true>>, the same building where Jeff had his magical mirror<</if>>. You climb down to the empty streets and start making your way north.<<if $ch8_astrid_reveal_from_tryton is true>> Astrid follows you like a silent ghost...<</if>> The rain and wind is icy cold, despite it being in the middle of summer in Valkama. The harsh reality of living this far north... [[End of currently build]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">You reach the Greenhouse's Delight from the rooftops, glancing down at the well lit street below. The music and merriment has not quieted one bit. In fact, it seems louder and more energetic than before. There are no signs of guards anywhere. A hooded figure approaches through a rusty gate from the Inner Gardens, making its way across the street straight toward the tavern. It stops half-way, its gaze looking up... Straight at you. You're frozen in place, crouched at the top of the roof three stories above the figure, shrouded in darkness. Yet he sees you. Even from this distance, you recognize Tryton, who smiles in the tavern's light up at you. He waves his hand, then enters the tavern... Damn... There's no sneaking up on this guy, is there? With a sigh, you climb the wall of the tavern down to street level, nimble as a cat. [[Join Tryton inside the tavern.|Join Tryton inside the inn.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "cool_upbeat">> <<set $ch8_dominate_drunk_table to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">The place is just as crowded as before. Tryton is engaged in a lively conversation with the plump innkeeper, who laughs at his jokes. He's already ordered a carafe of wine, and carries two goblets in his hands. "Ah, how good of you to join me. Please, let's take a seat somewhere comfortable..." Tryton's confident and familiar voice declares as soon as you approach the counter. The innkeeper's eyes shine with warmth when she sees you. "Ah, welcome back luv! Did you find your friend?" She asks, leaning over the counter. "I uh... Afraid not, ma'am. But I sure hope he turns up tomorrow!" The lie comes easy, but it's better this way. She does not need to know the truth... Tryton has an amused and curious look on his face, but doesn't say a thing. "Such a shame! You're welcome to stay the night if you want to wait for him, of course! Finest rooms around the garden, I assure you, just ten silvers a night." You smile back, nodding "Thank you. I shall consider it." Your false smile is met by a genuine smile from the innkeeper. And they say you're a criminal... No fucking way. Innkeepers like her are the true bandits of Valkama, praying on the unsuspecting population with her ridiculous prices... Luckily, she senses none of your animosity and happily turns her attention to new patrons. Tryton is balancing the carafe of wine and the two richly decorated goblets in his hands, but doesn't move or say a word. It's like he expects you to say something... Finally, after a mute moment or two, you say: [["Lead the way."]] <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>[["Follow me."]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton nods as soon as you say the words, gets up and chooses a table in the far corner of the room, overlooking the whole place. Colorful and comfortable sofas surround a round ebony table, its surface polished to perfection. But the place is currently occupied by a group of young drunks, who ignore Tryton and you when you approach. A quick glance around reveals that there are no tables available anywhere. Tryton stops and stands silently next to them, glancing down at the gathered gang. Three men and two women, their tankards of ale empty, their gazes eventually landing on Tryton and you... "Whatcha whant, huhh? Bringin' wine to ush...?" One of the drunk men asks Tryton, and his friends bark with laughter. "Charmed. Alas, this wine is for us. Just like this table." You witness the exchange from the side, feeling somewhat bothered... The drunk man seems surprised, and confrontational. "Did ya hear whatche said, huhh? He wants our table, he wants. Pissh off..." His friends laugh with him, but Tryton doesn't seem bothered at all. You glance around, trying to find another table... But there are none in sight. When you glance back, there's a deadly silence at the table. Tryton doesn't say a word, instead he stares down the drunk men. The drunk women sitting on the sofa are silently observing the exchange. One of them pulls at the man closest to her, whispers something in his ear. The situation feels like a lit fuse, ready to explode at any second... Then they stand up, more or less at the same time, shuffling awkwardly up from the sofa and away from the table. "All yoursh..." The man who's done the talking thus far says on his way past Tryton and you. For a moment there you're certain he's going to turn and stab Tryton in the back with something sharp, but he continues walking, heading toward the dancing crowd near the band, at the opposite end of the room... [[You didn't realize you'd been holding your breath.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton smiles. It was clearly the answer he was looking for. "Lead the way." He muses, joining you as the two of you search for a free table. Eventually you realize that there are none... You've walked all the way to the far corner of the room, overlooking the whole place. "How about here...?" Tryton suggests, pointing at a spot. Soft sofas surround a round ebony table, polished to perfection. But the place is currently occupied by a group of drunks, who do not seem to be in any hurry to leave. A quick glance around reveals there are no other tables available. "It's occupied..." You mutter under your breath. "Yes. And? They have finished their drinks... They know as well as anyone that those with drinks have the right to sit, and those without have the right to dance or buy more drinks. Quite simple really." Well, shit... [["We can't tell them to leave... That would be rude."]] [["Fine, I'll tell them to leave..."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png"><<if $ch8_dominate_drunk_table is true>>"Impressive." Tryton muses, taking a seat at the now empty table.<<else>>What the fuck just happened... Tryton doesn't seem bothered at all as he takes a seat at the now empty table.<</if>> You join him, with shaking hands. That could've ended badly... Tryton places the goblets on the table, then pours a hefty amount of rich red wine into each of them. <<if $ch8_dominate_drunk_table is true>>"This is certainly worth celebrating. Your first step in the right direction. Domination. An intangible quality, yet when applied in practice, has a most tangible effect indeed." Tryton muses, raising his goblet.<<else>> <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>"Let this be a small demonstration of domination. An intangible quality, yet when applied in practice, has a most tangible effect indeed."<<else>>"Ah, a table at last. To our health."<</if>> Tryton muses, raising his goblet.<</if>> You reach across the table for second goblet, grabbing the foot tight. "Yeah, sure. To <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>domination<<else>>our health<</if>>..." Tryton's amused smile is warm. He closes his eyes, inhales the intoxicating vapors of the wine, then imbibes... His long sip is followed by a deep sigh. "Ah... Perfection." He muses, seemingly without a care in the world. [[Drink.]] [[Put down the goblet.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton looks disappointed. "We can, and we will..." He stops and stands silently next to the drunks at the table, glancing down at the gathered gang. Three men and two women, their tankards of ale empty, their gazes eventually landing on Tryton and you... "Whatcha whant, huhh? Bringin' wine to ush...?" One of the drunk men asks Tryton, and his friends bark with laughter. "Charmed. Alas, this wine is for us. Just like this table." You witness the exchange from the side, feeling somewhat bothered... The drunk man seems surprised, and confrontational. "Did ya hear whatche said, huhh? He wants our table, he wants. Pissh off..." His friends laugh with him, but Tryton doesn't seem bothered at all. You glance around, trying to find another table... But there are none in sight. When you glance back, there's a deadly silence at the table. Tryton doesn't say a word, instead he stares down the drunk men. The drunk women sitting on the sofa are silently observing the exchange. One of them pulls at the man closest to her, whispers something in his ear. The situation feels like a lit fuse, ready to explode at any second... Then they stand up, more or less at the same time, shuffling awkwardly up from the sofa and away from the table. "All yoursh..." The man who's done the talking thus far says on his way past Tryton and you. For a moment there you're certain he's going to turn and stab Tryton in the back with something sharp, but he continues walking, heading toward the dancing crowd near the band, at the opposite end of the room... [[You didn't realize you'd been holding your breath.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_dominate_drunk_table to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton nods with approval. You glance at the group of three men and two women... Then you find your courage. You walk over, then stop and stand silently next to the drunks at the table, glancing down at the gathered gang. Their tankards of ale empty, their gazes eventually landing on Tryton and you... "Whatcha whant, huhh? Bringin' wine to ush...?" One of the drunk men asks you, and his friends bark with laughter. "These are our seats now. Come on, you know the rules as well as I do." You say, feeling less confident than you act as you stare down at the men, arms crossed defiantly. The drunk man seems surprised, and confrontational. "Did ya hear whatc-cshe said, huhh? She wants our table, she wants. Pissh off..." His friends laugh with him... Fuck, you'll need to double down here... A quick glance around reveals that there are no other tables. The drunk man's gaze joins yours, scanning the room. When you glance back, there's a deadly silence at the table. You can't think of a clever thing to say... Instead you stare down the drunk men. The drunk women sitting on the sofa are silently observing the exchange. One of them pulls at the man closest to her, whispers something in his ear. The situation feels like a lit fuse, ready to explode at any second... Then they stand up, more or less at the same time, shuffling awkwardly up from the sofa and away from the table. "All yoursh..." The man who's done the talking thus far says on his way past Tryton and you. For a moment there you're certain he's going to turn and stab you in the back with something sharp... Your hand instinctively goes to the blade at your belt... But he continues walking, heading toward the dancing crowd near the band, at the opposite end of the room... [[You didn't realize you'd been holding your breath.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_drink_wine to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">It looks damn delicious... Your hands are finally steady again, the adrenaline from confronting the group gone. You raise the goblet, letting the rich aroma of the wine fill your nose. Wow... Tryton really knows his wines, doesn't he? The quality is confirmed when you lift the goblet to your lips and take a sip. Like a deep and fresh summer's day, distilled into a fruity and delicious liquid. Yeah, you could indeed get used to drinking red wine... If you had the budget for it. However, your mind quickly turns to the reasons for this meeting. You need to confront him head on... [["What do you know of man called Hermes Dirk?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_drink_wine to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">For some reason, you're not feeling in the mood for a drink. Besides, you've already had plenty of ale this evening with Einar. Tryton's questioning eyebrow says a lot, but he doesn't comment on your choice to put the down goblet without having a taste. You need to confront him head on... [["What do you know of man called Hermes Dirk?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton's body language doesn't betray a thing, his facial expression calm and curious as he takes another sip of his wine. "An underworld criminal. Supposedly rotting in a high-security cell as we speak." He pours more wine into his goblet and leans closer to you over the table, adding: "And a dangerous fanatic. Worshipping... You know what." His eyes turn into slits, like he's trying to read your mind, or judge your character. "Why do you ask?" He adds, sloshing his wine casually around in his goblet and leans back in the comfortable sofa he's sitting on. "The two of you wouldn't happen to be friends? Business partners, or...?" You ask, probing for something that would explain their relationship without straight up voicing your concerns. Tryton takes a moment to consider his answer, they says: "Consider a bear that fells a great elk, gorging on its flesh. What would you call an opportunistic wolf that shows up to feast on the scraps that remains of the carcass, long after the bear has had its fill?" When it's clear Tryton is waiting for an answer, you say... <<set $linkText to "\"A thief, stealing something that doesn't belong to it.\"">>[[$linkText|answer tryton]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"A scavenger, acting according to its nature.\"">>[[$linkText2|answer tryton]] <<set $linkText3 to "\"A survivor, who seizes an opportunity.\"">>[[$linkText3|answer tryton]] <<set $linkText4 to "\"What does this have to do with anything?\"">>[[$linkText4|answer tryton]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch7/VALKAMA_SUMMER_ROOFTOP.png">You can sense Tryton nodding his head in thought, even though you cannot see him. "Right. Very well... Meet me at the Greenhouse's Delight. I can sense you're already in the neighbourhood..." His words echo in your mind. "Why are we meeting there...?" You query, confused. "You'll see soon enough..." The connection breaks just when you're about to ask for an explanation. Gods damn it... Fine. It's back to the Greenhouse's Delight, assuming it's safe now that guards have been alerted to murder just a few blocks away. The last thing you need right now is for the innkeeper to recognize you, and connect the dots to your and Ebbe if the guards come knocking on her tavern's door... [[Head back to the Greenhouse's Delight...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton smiles. "I happen to have friends in quite a few places... Including the establishment he finds himself in right now." You raise an eyebrow. "You're saying you know people that could get us inside the royal prison?" He nods. "Indeed. Perhaps a door left unlocked here, or a conveniently unguarded corridor there..." Well... You certainly didn't expect this. "Why do you want him gone? And why haven't you done anything about it before? He's been sitting in there for age..." You ask, genuinely curious. Tryton shrugs. "I cannot be associated with something like that. I am a politician after all, a high-ranking member of the court. But you can... And you already have a personal reason too." He smiles. "As for the why... Well, isn't it obvious? Smite the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered. At least until a new shepherd is announced... But still, a brief respite from the cult's persistent abuse of the void." Huh. He actually seems serious about all this. "Just to be clear, when you're saying remove from the equation, you mean..." Your question is interrupted by Tryton. "Dead, yes. I assume that's what you want as well?" Indeed it is, but you did not expect to find an ally in Tryton with dealing with this. Tryton's smile returns when you nod. "Well, do we have ourselves an agreement? My men will let you in, and you'll finish the deed?" This all sounds too good to be true, but you might need all the help you can get.<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>Besides, you trust him to be true to his word.<</if>> You reply... [["Agreed."]] <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is false>>[["Thank you for the offer, but I must decline. We will find our own way in."]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_trytons_men_open_jail to true>> <<set $ch8_has_club_invitation to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">"Excellent... When are you ready to strike?" He asks, drinking more wine. You never assumed Tryton, of all people, would be helping you take down Hermes Dirk... But you're glad to have found an ally in him. You reply: "The day after tomorrow. Late evening or in the middle of the night." Tryton nods. "I'll make the necessary arrangements. You'll be able to simply walk right in... Through a side-door, of course. Look for a man wearing a green scarf at one of the back doors. He's my man." Right. That sounds almost too good to be true... You wonder how you'll convince Einar<<if $ch7_kill_kerr is false>> and Kerr<</if>> that Tryton can be trusted, however... Which reminds you of Ylva and the bdsm club... "I just remembered... I need to get into a bdsm club. <<if $ch6_see_arne_and_ylva_sex>>It's in the industrial district, I've only seen it from the outside.<<else>>Somewhere between the Industrial District and the Industrial Harbor.<</if>> Supposedly invitation only. It's best if you don't ask why... You wouldn't happen to have connections...?" Your question is met with amusement. "I know exactly which club you're talking about. Well... Since I'm already handing out favors like candy to children on winter soltice..." He roots around in a hidden pocket in his black and golden coat. "Here. A copy of my plus one's invitation, to be freely given to whomever I choose. Oh, and do wear a mask... It's quite important to stay anonymous." You're stunned. "Wait... You just happen to have an extra invitiation...?" You really cannot believe this. Tryton shrugs. "I have my interests. And well... Let's just say that there aren't a ton of places like that in Valkama." His smile is genuine. You accept the folded letter over the table. Inside is a hand-written note with a wax seal of a tied up bunny in a compromising position, wearing a ball-gag and a blindfold. "For a special guest at the The Rope and the Bunny" is written in elaborate golden ink at the top of the letter. "The rope and the bunny?" You ask, louder than you intended. "The name of the place. Have fun." Well, fun is not exactly the thing you're after there... No. You're after a certain fox... "Glad I could be of service. Now, was there something else you were wondering? Ask away, and I shall try to answer..." Tryton says, his eyes fixed on you.<<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is false>> Well, now that you have him here...<</if>> "Actually, lately, I've been having some trouble with keeping the void at a distance..." You confess. Out of all the people you've talked to since your troubles began, Tryton seems like the best candidate to explain what the nightmare and tendrils in the brewery truly mean... Tryton gives an encouraging nod, waiting for you to ask. His look goes from curious to dark quite quickly when you explain what happened. What you saw in the nightmare, and how you woke up surrounded by tendrils... It takes Tryton a moment to gather himself after your tale, but he finally manages to say: "Well... That is... There are two possibilities, Taru. The first is that it was indeed just a nightmare, triggered by the abyss creeping into the mortal realm in a physical manifestation... Or, it was a memory of someone who is trapped within the abyss, which you somehow managed to see when the abyss tore the fabric of reality and entered your hiding place..." He pauses for a moment and looks around the room. No patrons are listening to your conversation it seems. "Now as for the tendrils themselves... I'm afraid it does not bode well. The abyss has grown gluttonous, hungry and impatient since the fanatics began sacrificing souls to appease it. In truth, they have made it more active, more malicious, and given it an appetite for human souls. It wants you, Taru. I'm not trying to scare you, but it has quite literally had its first taste of your soul, and it finds it irresistibly delicious..." What he says doesn't put you at ease... At all. <<if $ch4_follow_abyss_path is true>>[[You stare at Tryton in silence...]]<<else>>[["Is there nothing I can do?"]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_trytons_men_open_jail to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You do not trust him enough to agree with his proposal. You will find another way inside the jail. "Well... I can understand your hesitation. Still, I will appreciate it when he's been dealt with." Tryton comments, clearly disappointed. "Was there something else you wanted to discuss...?" He asks, finishing his goblet of wine. There could be, if you could trust him. Which you do not. "That's all for now..." You're about to leave when Tryton holds up his hand. "There's one more thing you might want to know about Dirk..." [[He has your attention.|astrid reveal]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You're staring at Tryton for a long while. Eventually, he notices you aren't paying attention, and his lips stop moving. Slowly, you compose yourself and snap out of it. Your confusion is replaced by cold anger. "Where is she? What have they... You... Done with her!?" Your fist slams down on the table, sending goblets of wine flying. Only a few patrons close to you notice your outburst in the busy loud evening. "Calm yourself. I haven't done anything to her. She's on her way here as we speak, assuming she doesn't get lost in the gardens..." Tryton says, casually picking up his goblet from the floor and refilling it with wine from the carafe that somehow managed to stay standing. She's on her... Way? Your throat is dry, but you do not reach for the wine or your goblet. "She looked like a walking corpse! What the hell did they do to her!?" You repeat, your anger still directed at Tryton. That he has known this entire time... Granted, he didn't know Astrid had been kidnapped, or that she answers to the nickname Snowflake, but still... Somehow you feel that he should've told you before... "I understand why you're upset... You have every right to be..." For the first time, you sense Tryton's deep hesitation. Even sorrow. "I couldn't help your friend anymore than you can..." Help her...? "What do you mean help her...? She's coming here right? So she's fine..." Your mind refuses to understand. To accept the truth. He said she's a husk... Finally, you're beginning to wrap your head around this. "... Her soul?" You ask, your voice no more than a whisper. Tryton nods. "Consumed by the Abyss... She's a soulless husk. An echo of who she used to be..." No. This will not do! "Well, then just bring her soul back!" You demand, confused and angry. Tryton looks, infuriatingly, like a patient parent explaining something to their dumb child. "I cannot. The effect cannot be reversed." This is absolutely insane... After all this time wondering what happened to Astrid, you now learn she was with Tryton the whole fucking time, but as a soulless husk... [["We must do something!"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your final statement is met with silence. You notice why when you glance in the direction that Tryton is looking. Amidst the merry drunkards of the inn stands a lone figure, slowly approaching your table through the crowd of people. She averts her gaze, her sunken tired eyes fixed on the floor, her black hair slimy and filthy. She's wearing a torn dress, and an oversized coat. If this is Astrid, then she's truly transformed beyond recognition. Her father's strong northern features are nowhere to be seen in her skeletal frame and malnourished cheeks. Her fiery red hair, usually braided neatly, has been cut short and is a tangled black mess. Her murky brown eyes, full of life, now look at you and Tryton with the depth and dark of the ocean. Seeing, but not comprehending. Her beautiful pale skin, which gave her the name Snowflake in the gang, is a sickly off-white, almost grey. "It can't be her..." You mutter, more to yourself than to Tryton. The sickly woman stops at your table and turns her attention to Tryton. A few patrons are staring at her. She stands out like a sore thumb in this crowd... Or any crowd, really. "Sir..." She says to Tryton, giving him a short curtsy. "Astrid!" You call out, reaching for her arm. Her skin is cold to your touch, and she lazily looks down. Not at you, but at her wrist. "How can she talk if she's a husk...?" You ask Tryton and stand up, eyeing the woman from head to toe, taking her hands in yours. She looks at you without recognizing you, almost as if she's looking at something far away behind you, rather than at you. "The body remembers many things, even in the absence of a soul. Think of it as a horse-driven carriage. What should happen if a driver falls off in the middle of a ride? Why, the horses would surely keep on trotting at a leisurely pace for quite a while." Tryton's explanation does not make you feel at ease. Not one bit. "This is all just a massive coincidence, surely... That she answers to Snowflake..." As soon as you say the words, something happens. The woman stirs, her black dark eyes fleeting around the room, until they find you. They tremble, hesitating, then her focus is lost, and she stares into nothing. You immediately grab her shoulders, shaking her, more violently than you intended. "Snowflake! It's me, Taru! Bolt! Are you... Is that you? Snowflake... Astrid...?" Her head bobs in rhythm with your shakes, and you reluctantly let go of her. Nothing. Whatever happened the first time you said her nickname is gone. "I'm sorry, Taru. I truly am." Tryton says with sincerity, averting his gaze.<<if $ch8_trytons_men_open_jail is true>> But he did promise to get rid of Hermes Dirk and help you with your abyssal troubles...<</if>> Still, at this moment, you... [[Feel furious at Tryton and the Abyss.|Feel furious at Tryton.]] [[Feel sadness for Astrid.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_follow_abyss_path to false>> <<set $ch8_trytons_men_open_jail to false>> <<set $ch4_tryton_helps_with_piru to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your fury boils your blood as you lock your gaze on the finely clothed, wine-sipping pompous asshole who calls himself Tryton. Anointed? A pathetic incapable novice at best! "This... This is what happens when you do not sever the connection to the abyss once and for all. Only ruin and broken lives!" Your fury comes out as a mild observation at first, the real truth. This would never happen if men like Tryton stopped researching the Abyss. The only proper way forward is to seal the abyss. "Do not blame the weapon for what the wielder..." Tryton begins. "Oh shut up with your fucking methapores!" Your shouts are gaining the attention of drunken patrons of the inn, who have formed a curious half-circle around your table. Tryton is doing his best to draw your attention to the fact, his gaze begging you to be discreet and stay calm. But you cannot... Your blood boils hot... You can say goodbye to any help he might've offered... And quite frankly, you do not want his help. [[Reach for your infernal dagger and kill the bastard...]] [[Tell him that you're done here and you never wish to see him again.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">First and foremost, you feel a hollow sadness at what has become of your friend. A part of you still doesn't accept that this has happened, that what you've witnessed and heard is true. "If you'll excuse us, I need to take her to her friends... Since you cannot help her. Come on Snowflake, let's go." You say, signaling for the sickly woman that must be Astrid to follow you. She hesitates, glancing from you to Tryton. "Truly, I wish you best of luck, Taru. Go on, follow this woman. She's your friend." Tryton says, waving his hand in your direction. Only then does the woman finally look at you. With a heavy heart, you say again: "Come on... Let's get out of here..." You point at her, then at yourself, then at the exit. She seems to understand and starts following you. Somewhere in there is Astrid, surely? Locked away in a shell of her former self... But you will find a way to get her back, body and soul reunited. You simply must... [[Leave the tavern behind and head back to the new hideout Einar mentioned...|gang meetup chapter 8]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "combat_serious">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Why didn't you kill him the first time you had the chance? These abyss-worshipping whoresons are all the same. Cult or otherwise, they're just different sides to the same coin. A coin that is a taint on the world, which should be eradicated and destroyed. You don't care that there's a crowd of people curiously drinking their beers, watching your conversation. All you care about is to put an end to things. To start the beginning of the end, with Tryton as the first victim in your war against Astorolus and all who have anything to do with it. Tryton must've sensed something in your gaze, for as soon as your fingers touch the hilt of your infernal bone dagger, he's up... He throws the table at you with incredible speed, but you manage to dodge it just in time. It comes crashing down between you and Astrid, slamming into an unfortunate drunkard with force. But you barely hear his surprised yelp and the angry shouts from the gathered crowd around you. Your eyes are on Tryton, your bloodthirsty dagger in your hand... "Is this how you repay kindness?" Tryon's voice booms, his palms held in front of him, drawing shapes in the air. You steel yourself, channeling your anger, and grip your infernal bone dagger tighter. 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 Ch8">> <</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>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">"We're done. I'm taking her with me, but I will never contact you again. Consider yourself warned." You say with as much venom as you can muster, signaling for the sickly woman that must be Astrid to follow you. She hesitates, glancing from you to Tryton. "Truly, I wish you best of luck, Taru. Go on, follow this woman. She's your friend." Tryton says, waving his hand in your direction. Only then does the woman finally look at you. You could say a few more choice words to Tryton, but you choose to leave things as they are. "Come on... Let's get the hell out of here..." You wave to her to follow, and to yourself, she responds and follows you. Somewhere in there is Astrid, surely? Locked away in a shell of her former self... But you will find a way to get her back, body and soul reunited. You simply must... [[Leave the tavern behind and head back to the new hideout Einar mentioned...|gang meetup chapter 8]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch4_dead_tryton to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">The fight spills into the crowd of the Greenhouse's Delight, whom run in panic at the sight of your glowing blade and Tryton's raging fists. Tables, chairs, drinks and people are scattered in your skirmish as you dodge and weave his blows. You can feel the taint of the abyss, like metal on your tongue, filling the tavern. Tryton is clearly drawing his power from the abyss somehow, his inhuman speed and reflexes keeping you at bay. Your opening comes when you dodge his fist of steel, which slams into the innkeeper's wooden counter with a loud crunch of broken wood. Just then a bottle of wine flies out of nowhere, crashing into the back of his head. The simultaneous disorienting impact is all your infernal bone dagger needs to find the opening it was looking for. It's over with a single smooth cut. Tryton fumbles at his throat, a gaping wound in his neck. Then, with a low gurgling sound, he falls head first into the innkeeper's counter, and down into the floor. The blade happily drinks the spilt blood... When you glance around, you realize that the inn is empty, except for you and the sickly woman. Even the innkeeper has abandoned her tavern in the chaos. You feel... Empty. But you cannot stay here. Guards are surely on their way here already, and it's time to leave. The woman, most likely the husk of Astrid, has a wild stare in her eyes and another bottle of wine in her hands, which she looks like she's about to throw. "Come on... Let's get the hell out of here..." You wave to her to follow, and to yourself, she responds and follows you. Somewhere in there is Astrid, surely? Locked away in a shell of her former self... But you will find a way to get her back, body and soul reunited. You simply must... [[Leave the chaos behind and head back to the new hideout Einar mentioned...|gang meetup chapter 8]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your question comes out weak, pathetic. He's already promised to help deal with Hermes Dirk... Surely you're not asking too much? "Tell you what..." He begins, getting your hopes up. "Deal with Hermes Dirk. Then we can discuss this again." His look is serious. Well... What did you expect, having turned your back on his once already? "Fine... We have a deal." Tryton raises his glass, confirming that he will honor his deal of the bargain. "Well, I'd best start planning..." You're about to leave when Tryton holds up his hand. "There's one more thing you might want to know about Dirk..." [[He has your attention.|astrid reveal]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Tryton doesn't seem surprised by your choice. "Excellent choice. Mind you, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is feisty." His smile reveals memories that you do not want to hear the details of. When you glance at the table, both of the siblings smile at you and Tryton. Fuck... Do they know what the two of you have been discussing? Surely not. How could they... Mentally, you prepare for what you're about to do. Breathe. Calm. Fuck. Wait, no... Well... Maybe? Tryton interrupts your raging mind. "Relax. Just go over there and talk to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>." he says, waving in the general direction of the duo's table. Fine! You'll do that. As soon as your legs stop shaking. Why are you suddenly a nervous wreck? There's no reason why you should be feeling like this, right? You reach out and drink <<if $ch8_drink_wine is true>>the rest of your<<else>>your completely ignored<</if>> goblet of wine in one go, bringing an amused smile to Tryton's lips. "How should I do this...?" You ask him, trying to get a final nugget of wisdom. A pointer in the right direction. "Just be cool. Confident. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> is not going to bow to a beta. You'll have to show that you like being in charge. That you know what you're doing and what you want. And what you want is them to crawl at your feet, begging for your attention." Tryton's smile is casual, but his eyes are gleaming with delight. "And <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> likes that...?" Your question is met with a short nod. "They both would. I guess I'll have to give the other some special attention, so that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>she<<else>>he<</if>> doesn't feel left out." His smile becomes wider. When you glance over at the table, you realize one thing. That you're actually going to do this, and you're going to try your damndest to be confident and dominant. If this is truly going to help you mentally fight against the abyss, then you're willing to try. Might as well try to enjoy it... Besides, you can probably have them do anything you want. Or do nothing special at all. Where this evening goes is entirely in your hands... You are, after all, the one who will be in control. After gathering your courage, you... [[Head over to their table.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_tease">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your falsely confident steps take you through the room straight to the siblings' table. The two share a private muted whisper before turning their attention to you. "You keep interesting company." The handsome man comments with a warm smile on his lips, lifting his glass of beer in Tryton's direction. "We haven't met, right? Name's Daniela. This is my brother, Daniel." The woman adds, a wicked smile on her lips. She extends her arm, waiting for a handshake... Your heart is beating louder in your chest when you glance from brother to sister... As long as your heart doesn't give up on you, you'll be fine... <<if $ch5_dominate_lady_gan is true>>Besides, you've already had an infernal taste of dominating Lady Gan in Piru's realm. But that was distinctly different...<</if>> [[Shake Daniela's hand and introduce yourself.|domina path 2][$ch8_bdsm_shake_hand to true]] [[Ignore her hand, sit at their table, and introduce yourself.|domina path 2][$ch8_bdsm_shake_hand to false]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png"><<if $ch8_bdsm_shake_hand is true>>No need to be rude, even though you're supposed to be calm, cool and dominant. You shake her hand, sitting down at their table.<<else>>You remember what Tryton said. You need to show them you're in charge... With that in mind, you ignore the extended hand and simply sit down at their table. Daniela withdraws her hand, a curious look on her face.<</if>> "Indeed, we have not had the pleasure of meeting before. The name's Taru." You glance back at Tryton, who's ordered another carafe of wine for himself. Then you ask the siblings: "How do you two know Tryton?" You see all the details of their outfits now that you sit down at their table. The man is wearing a deep green velvet cloak lined with silver thread, fastened at his shoulder with a stag-shaped brooch, over a black cotton tunic woven with subtle vine patterns. His belt is made of tanned leather, purely ornamental, and his tall boots gleam with polish, their cuffs folded neatly. The woman's gown is made from sapphire blue silk, close-fitted through the bodice and sleeves, with golden feathers embroidered across the chest and cuffs. Her short hair is dotted with bronze coils held by jeweled combs, and a slim silver circlet resting across her brow, catching the firelight like moonlight on water. These are no ordinary patrons. These two are rich. Filthy rich... It would be hard to tell them apart, if it wasn't for their clothing and ornaments. Their posture, voice, voice and hair are quite similar indeed. Daniel leans back in his cushioned chair, inspecting you with a critical eye. "We frequent the same... Circles." He smiles at his sister, who hasn't stopped looking into your eyes this entire time... "You're not his newest... Pet, are you?" Daniel adds. You realize that the dance has already begun, that the time to establish whether or not these two will take you seriously is now. Everything you say will be judged, and if they cannot see you as a top, you will forever be a bottom in their eyes. With that in mind, you say... [["No, I am not his newest pet. But I am looking for one of my own."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your words bring out an electric vibe at the table, when brother and sister glance at each other. "I told you! She has that same look in her eyes... Frankly, she knowing Tryton is all I really need to know." Daniela comments, a delighted and somewhat devious smile on her lips. For a moment you believe she can somehow sense the abyss within you, same as Tryton, reflected in your eyes... But you dismiss the thought as absurd. "Indeed you did. Well, Taru, you have my attention. And dare I say Daniela's too." Daniel comments. "Do tell us... What exactly did Tryton tell you about us?" He adds. You glance from brother to sister. These are strange people indeed, you silently decide to yourself... "Not much, except that both of you enjoy a good spanking." Your comment is met with a barking laughter from Daniel, and blushing cheeks from Daniela. "Well, he's not wrong there." Daniel says. "I like her." Daniela says to her brother. "Me too sis. What's your drink, Taru? I insist." Daniel says, waving over a waiter. <<set $linkText to "\"A beer.\"">>[[$linkText|drink order]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"Wine.\"">>[[$linkText2|drink order]] <<set $linkText3 to "\"I don't drink.\"">>[[$linkText3|no drink order]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">"I'll have one of those too." Daniela comments. The waiter is back in no time with a glass of what you ordered. "To new acquaintances." Daniel toasts. Your glasses clink together, and then the three of you lean back in your chairs, eyeing each-other like it's a serious and bloody stand-off in the streets. "I would love to get to know you better, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>, is it ok if I call you Dani? I'm fairly certain Tryton had something planned for <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> anyway..." You comment, locking your gaze on the siblings while nodding in Tryton's direction. "Is that so?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> says, an intrigued look on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>her<<else>>his<</if>> face. "Have fun." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> says when <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> sibling stands up, waves goodbye to the two of you and heads to Tryton's table. You watch them leave upstairs together, Tryton's hand at the small of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>>'s back... Now it's just you and <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> at the table. Shouldn't it be easier dealing with just one? But no... It suddenly becomes more real, more... Intimate. "Dani. I like that. And what should I call you?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> asks with an inviting whisper, glass held protectively between you and them. <<set $linkText to "\"Miss Taru.\"">>[[$linkText|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Miss Taru"]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"Mistress.\"">>[[$linkText2|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Mistress"]] <<set $linkText3 to "\"Queen.\"">>[[$linkText3|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Queen"]] <<set $linkText4 to "\"Goddess.\"">>[[$linkText4|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Goddess"]] <<set $linkText5 to "\"Madam.\"">>[[$linkText5|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Madam"]] <<set $linkText6 to "\"Domina.\"">>[[$linkText6|domina name][$ch8_bdsm_name to "Domina"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">"Really? That glass of wine you so admirably downed in one go, that didn't count?" Daniela comments, clearly teasing you. Well, shit, she has a point there... <<set $linkText2 to "\"Fine. You're right. One more drink couldn't hurt. A wine, then.\"">>[[$linkText2|drink order]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">That seems to work for Dani, who nods, smiles and says: "Very well. Pleased to meet you, $ch8_bdsm_name." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> suddenly gets a serious look on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face. "Now, seeing as we're practically strangers... Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, $ch8_bdsm_name. What kind of woman are you?" The question is reasonable and makes sense. After all, why wouldn't <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> want to know a little bit about you first, before taking things further... For a moment, you think about what you should tell <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. [[Be honest. Tell them your past as a thief and assassin.]] [[(Lie) Tell them you're a medicus who saves lives.]] [[(Lie) Tell them you're Tryton's niece, new to the city.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You decide to tell a lie. After all, they would probably not trust a thief. You know you wouldn't... Not to mention an assassin. Instead, you tell them a lie about being a medicus - a woman of medicine, who helps the wounded. You recall your mother's teachings and the days she spent brewing herbs for the townsfolk, and draw inspiration for your tale from what you can remember. They seem convinced, and at ease when you finish your tale. "That's an impressive and important career. You should be proud. $ch8_bdsm_name, I am curious though... Why me?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> asks, leaning in closer. Why indeed? Telling the truth - that you need this practice or your soul will be devoured - doesn't sound like the right choice... [["What do you mean?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You decide that brutal honesty is the right way to go. After all, how can there be trust without the truth? You tell Dani about your tough life on the streets, how you've had to steal and kill to survive. How, even after you found a home in a gang you kept stealing and become a blade for hire. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>'s eyes grow wide at your tale, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> drink forgotten as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> stares at you. Dani laughs, nervously. "You're joking, right? You're... Oh. You're serious." They grow pale as a ghost. "I wish I was joking." You retort. Shit... You might've blown things now... But to your great surprise, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> actually shuffles closer to you, placing the warm palm of their hand on your knuckles... "So you're saying that you're... Dangerous?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> purrs softly, finding your gaze. You can feel the heat of their breath, they're so close now. "Very." Your reply is short, serious, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> melts under your gaze. "Interesting... $ch8_bdsm_name, I am curious though... Why me?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> asks, removing their hand from yours and shuffling a step away from you. Why indeed? Telling the truth - that you need this practice or your soul will be devoured - doesn't sound like the right choice... [["What do you mean?"]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_dominate_dani to false>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You decide to ask for a bit of clarification. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> clears <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> throat, suddenly a bit shy. "I mean... People have a difficult time telling us apart. We're not identical twins, of course. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>She is a woman, I'm a guy, yet we look quite the same.<<else>>He is a man, I'm a girl, yet we look quite the same.<</if>> I know for a fact that Tryton let you pick one of us first. So... Why me?" Honestly, you went on instinct on that one, but now that you have to say it out loud... <<set $linkText to "\"I can tell the difference, and I find you more attractive.\"">>[[$linkText|answer why]] <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>><<set $linkText2 to "\"I prefer men, and you are a treat to the eyes.\"">><<else>><<set $linkText2 to "\"I prefer women, and you are a treat to the eyes.\"">><</if>>[[$linkText2|answer why]] <<set $linkText3 to "\"I picked one of you at random.\"">>[[$linkText3|answer why at random]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your answer is met with a nod. "Well, I'm flattered. And I must tell you, the way you and Tryton discussed us, dividing us between the two of you like that... Disregarding our opinions... It makes me feel... So..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> says, then pauses for a moment, trying to put <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> thoughts into words. "... Cheap..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> comment comes in the form of a soft breath, a shiver of anticipation in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> trembling voice... Tryton was certainly right about these two. They definitely like a certain kind of treatment... [[You feel comfortable with this. Take things further...]] [[You're getting uncomfortable with how this is going. Stop this now.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your answer surprises <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. "Really...? That makes me feel... So..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> pauses for a moment, trying to put <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> thoughts into words. "... Cheap..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> comment comes in the form of a soft breath, a shiver of anticipation in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> trembling voice... Tryton was certainly right about these two. They definitely like a certain kind of treatment... [[You feel comfortable with this. Take things further...]] [[You're getting uncomfortable with how this is going. Stop this now.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">This is actually a bit exciting and fun, talking with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> like this. But you're just getting warmed up, comfortable with them. And they with you. They've seen nothing yet... You can and will show who's in charge. Damn... This is going to be fun. "Cheap?" You repeat, a mischievous smile on your lips. "You're used to that, aren't you?" You shift your tone, pinning <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> with your gaze. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> seems to love your attention... "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> reply is short but thoughtful. You can sense that Dani's testing you. Teasing you. Your smile is victorious, confident. "We're going to need a safe word... Aren't we, $ch8_bdsm_name? How about if I say "red", we stop, and "mercy" if I want you to take things slower?" Dani suggests. That sounds reasonable... "Agreed." You simply answer, not letting them enjoy more control of the situation than is absolutely needed. "Well then... I've decided... I want to enjoy the night. With you at my side, to be used as I like." You comment, eyeing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> up and down. Do you spot the faintest blushing on their cheeks? <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> is good though, slipping right into a submissive role... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> leans in, eyes shining, and says: "I would like that very much too... $ch8_bdsm_name." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> reply almost has you floored, but you decide to play things cool. With a low, controlling voice, you retort: "Of course you do, Dani." You feel a surge of adrenaline at the feeling of power you have over <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is looking at you now in a new way... One with anticipation of your next move. You comment casually: "Keep looking at me like that, Dani, and people are going to start asking questions." Dani smiles back and leans just a bit closer. "I wouldn't mind, $ch8_bdsm_name..." Of course not... [["I see. You like being watched, don't you?"]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You can't keep up this charade. This whole situation makes you feel extremely uncomfortable, and you want nothing to do with this anymore. Whatever Tryton says about it doesn't matter. You can't do this, whatever it means in practice. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> seems to notice that something's wrong, because <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> posture changes. "Look, Dani... It's been quite lively talking to you. Have a nice rest of the evening..." You comment, and are about to stand up. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> stop you by grabbing your arm, a warm smile on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> lips. "Hey, I get it. There's no need to rush into anything here. But maybe we could just talk, while we wait for my <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>sister<<else>>brother<</if>> and Tryton to get back? I hate sitting at a table alone." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> eyes search yours for a connection, some compassion. Sure... Why the hell not... "Fine! Maybe one more drink wouldn't hurt..." You reply, sitting back down at the table. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>'s smile is wide and they're quick to order another round of drinks. "Fantastic! Now, tell me, what do you do for fun...?" Conversation flows easy, now that you've made up your mind to not try to dominate them... [[An hour later...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You decide to tell a lie. After all, they would probably not trust a thief. You know you wouldn't... Not to mention an assassin. Instead, you tell them a lie about being a Tryton's niece. New to the city, not really a woman of anything yet as you try to find your place in the world. You draw inspiration from your countless encounters with strangers over the years, putting an exotic spin on the mundane sights of Valkama that you have supposedly seen for the first time these past weeks. They seem convinced, and at ease when you finish your tale. "Well, let me officially welcome you to Valkama! I hope your stay will be pleasant. $ch8_bdsm_name, I am curious though... Why me?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> asks, leaning in closer. Why indeed? Telling the truth - that you need this practice or your soul will be devoured - doesn't sound like the right choice... [["What do you mean?"]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">An hour later, Tryton and <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> return to the common room, from whatever kinky adventures they were doing. They approach your table. "Still here? Is something wrong with her?" Tryton asks <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> when he arrives. Tryton is giving you an odd look. "Nothing wrong, absolutely not. She's a lovely girl, just maybe not exactly what I'm looking for. You know?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> replies. "Ah, how... Disappointing. Well, have a lovely evening now Daniel and Daniela. Until next time." Tryton smiles and pats <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> on the cheek, then signals for you to follow him. "It was nice meeting you, $ch8_bdsm_name..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> comments when you stand up. You reply with a chuckle: "Likewise. Take care now." Then you're off, heading back with Tryton to your original table, which miraculously is empty. When you glance back, you notice that Daniel and Daniela are leaving the tavern, having a vivid conversation. Tryton raises an eyebrow at you when the two of you sit down, then sighs. "What happened?" He asks, clearly confused why you didn't go through with it. "Honestly? I'm not sure... I just couldn't do it." You reply. Deep down you know why, but somehow you don't feel like sharing the reality with Tryton. "Well... This is a setback, but I did promise you I'd help. I'll have to do some extra preparations... But we can still proceed as planned. Don't worry. I will help you with Astorolus, and breaking the hold it has on your soul." Tryton's revelation comes as a surprise to you. "Really? You think I'm ready, even without practice...?" Your question is met with a shrug and a sigh. "It's going to be much trickier, but... Yes. It might be possible. Give me a couple of days to prepare and meet me back at the Doom Clock when you're ready..." Huh. Amazingly enough, Tryton seems sincere. Guess you have found a worthy ally in him after all, despite letting him down... A silence grows between the two of you. Your mind goes to Hermes Dirk... "Well, I'd best start planning..." You're about to leave when Tryton holds up his hand. "There's one more thing you might want to know about Dirk..." [[He has your attention.|astrid reveal]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">After your teasing question, you reach out over the table, placing a firm hand on Dani's shoulder. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> swallows hard. "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> seem nervous, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> can't take <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> eyes from you. With a smirk, and a quiet voice, you comment: "Thought so." You let your hand softly leave Dani's shoulder, your fingers brushing their neck, only to stop at their cheek for a short moment. A moment that says 'you are mine'. Tryton was right, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> quickly molds into an obedient pup, who wants to please. "You're cute when you're trying to be good. But I know what you're really waiting for." You comment, recalling vividly what Tryton did to you. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> surely craves something similar, and you're more than happy to oblige... "What is that, $ch8_bdsm_name?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> asks, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> voice barely a whisper. Your hands smoothly transition from their cheek to the back of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head, gently caressing their hair. Then you pull <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> closer to you, over the table, forcing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> to hover just an inch above their chair and lean on the table for support... You lean in too, lips close to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> ear, and whisper seductively: "For me to tell you... That we're done playing nice." The air between you is electric when you let go of Dani's head, letting <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> disengage and sit back down on the chair. You have <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> completely under your spell. Damn... This is what Tryton was talking about, wasn't he? The feeling of being in full control, with another eagerly listening to you, giving you their full attention. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is visibly blushing, enjoying every second of this. "Finish your drink. I want to take you somewhere private... Yeah. You'll rent us a room for the night, upstairs." You finally say, after a moment's consideration. Not a suggestion. Not a command. A statement. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>, eager to please, grabs their glass and empties it without hesitation. Then, flustered, stands up and says tense with anticipation: "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name." Amused, you stand up from the table and watch as Dani hurries over to the innkeeper. An exchange of coins later, they return with a key in hand. A round wooden sign is attached to the key with a metallic ring: #69. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> looks at the floor in front of you and hands you the key. You take it without hesitation. "Good <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>>, Dani... Here's what we'll do. You won't talk unless I tell you to. You'll follow a step behind. And once we reach the room... You'll remember exactly who you belong to tonight. Understood?" You haven't felt this alive in a long time... Then <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> answers with a quiet, needy voice: "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name. I… I understand." Their reply sends a shiver down your spine. "Good." You simply say, smooth, deliberate, eyes locked on Dani... "Let's see how much you really enjoy being treated like nothing but mine. Just for tonight..." [[Head upstairs... Eager Dani following one step behind...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_UPSTAIRS.png">The walk through the crowded room feels long as you make your way upstairs, then through the corridor. Room 67... 68... Here you are. Room number 69. The key fits and the door opens, revealing a large bedroom with a king sized bed in the far corner of the room. The room is lit by a dozen large whale oil candles, dotted around the room, and a chandelier with a dozen more smaller candles. Dani follows you into the room, closing the door behind you... Your eyes scan the space before you toss the room key onto a table, its metallic clink breaking the silence between you. So... Here you are. Without turning to face Dani, you say loudly: "Take off your shoes." This time you give a command. And to your delight, Dani obeys. "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name..." You can hear how <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> shuffles around behind you. Then the soft wooden tap of shoes being placed on the wooden floor signals that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>>'s done. You turn, raising an amused eyebrow at the shoeless Dani. "You listen exceeding well... When you're desperate." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>'s jaw drops at your comment, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> quitely says: "I… I want to be good for you, $ch8_bdsm_name..." An epiphany comes to you, and you see exactly what Dani wants. What <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> needs. You walk closer to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>, slowly, deliberately. "No. You want to be used. Owned." You step into <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> personal space. Side-by-side, you're just an inch or so taller than <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>... The fact that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is not wearing shoes certainly helps. You can almost hear Dani's pounding heart, and taste their excited short breaths... You've judged Dani correctly. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> is mesmerized by you. "You don't want sweet words or soft hands. You want to feel cheap. Like I could toss you aside when I'm done. And that would still be the best night you've had in months." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> breath catches. "... Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name. I do..." Your voice is low and sharp when you interrupt <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>: "Say it." Dani looks up at you, and for a short moment you think <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> might've had enough. But no... With a trembling voice, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> obediently says: "I want you to use me, $ch8_bdsm_name. However you want. I don't care what I am to you tonight. I'm yours..." When <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> admits it, you know it's true. You're satisfying Dani's deepest desires by being here, telling them what to do... And you rather like it.<<if $ch5_dominate_lady_gan is true>> You really are growing an appetite for domination, aren't you? First Lady Gan, now Dani here...<</if>> Smiling, you say: "You already are. From the moment you said $ch8_bdsm_name at that bar." [[Reach out and tilt their chin up.|Reach out, tilting their chin up.]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_dominate_dani to true>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_senses">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You can feel <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> shivering when you reach out and place two fingers under <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chin. Then you tilt Dani's chin up to meet your gaze., holding it perfectly still. "Your moment to walk away is now, Dani. From now on I will call you submissive... Take your shoes and leave... Or start stripping." You give <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> a final choice to walk away, to keep <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> autonomy. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He's<<else>>She's<</if>> holding <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> breath, gazing up into your eyes. What you see is someone willing to do anything. Someone who enjoys the thrill of being helpless and controlled. Wordlessly, Dani begins to remove their clothes, without looking away. You release <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chin and take a step back, admiring the effect your presence, your words, has on your submissive. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel begins by unclasping his deep green velvet cloak, letting it fall to the floor at his naked feet. Next, he unbuttons his black cotton tunic, carelessly discarding it on the floor. His eyes are gleaming with delight when he pulls off his white linen shirt underneath, revealing a well-trained and slim body underneath. His skin reflects the light of the candles as he pulls his belt away, tossing it in the growing pile of his clothes... He maintains eye contact with you when he pulls his brown pants down, until he's wearing nothing but his underwear.<<else>>Daniela begins by unclasping her sapphire blue silk gown, letting it fall to the floor at her naked feet. Next, she unbuttons the nightgown she's been wearing underneath, carelessly discarding it on the floor. She has a well-trained and slim body underneath. Her eyes are gleaming with delight when she removes her bra, revealing her perfectly round and luscious breasts. Her skin reflects the light of the candles as she pulls the jeweled combs and slim silver circlet from her hair, tossing them in the growing pile of her clothes... She stands there, maintaining eye contact with you, wearing nothing but her panties.<</if>> [[This is getting fun. Tell them to remove their underwear too.]] [[You've seen enough. Tell them to kneel and wait in the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Your submissive stands there, naked except for their underwear. "All of it." You simply command, taking pleasure in the simple act of being in control. And they obey, willing submissive as they are... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>'s underwear join the pile of their discarded clothes, their naked body a delight to your eyes. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> is fit, slim, and beatiful to watch. Like a sculpture. You let your eyes wander from <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his defined arm muscles, down to his chest, his abs and further down to his fully erect penis. He<<else>>her delicious bouncy breasts, down to her slim stomach and further down still to curvy hips... All the way down to her clean shaven pussy, glistening with wetness in the candle light. She<</if>> clearly enjoys being watched... A lot. There's a certain tangible nervous anticipation that fills the room now... "Hands behind your back, submissive. Eyes on me." You order, knowing that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> will obey without hesitation. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> does, spine straight, wrists clasped and locks <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> gaze on you. There's isn't a trace of regret in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> eyes for standing here, naked in front of you... No shame for <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> body. "Look at you. So eager to obey..." You tease. You're letting your imagination run wild now, saying things you never thought you would say to another human being. And yet, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> desperately wants to hear more. To do more... For you. The feeling of power is intoxicating. This is a game, of course. They are willlingly putting themselves in this position. And yet, with the correct words, you can make them forget that it's a game. [[Make them think that they are truly yours...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">For a while, you wait, and eventually Tryton returns downstairs. Alone. He has a questioning look on his face, and joins you at your table. "So... How did it go?" He asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. "I could've had <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> do anything... It was quite... Easy." You admit. Tryton nods. "I know. Perfect practice, I should say. Mind you, this was consensual domination... That is not what you'll be experiencing when you face Astorolus. But do tell... How do you feel, now that the deed is done?" He asks, casually leaning into the couch. "I feel good... I guess. Confident, in a way. Almost like I'm ready to take on anything, Astorolus included." You reveal. In truth, you feel as ready as you'll ever be to tackle your abyssal problem. "Good. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. I'll have to do some preparations... Then we can proceed as planned. As promised, I will help you with Astorolus, and break the hold it has on your soul. Before long, you will be in charge of it." Tryton says reassuringly. "That sounds like a good plan..." A silence grows between the two of you. Your mind goes to Hermes Dirk... "Well, I'd best start planning..." You're about to leave when Tryton holds up his hand. "There's one more thing you might want to know about Dirk..." [[He has your attention.|astrid reveal]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">"Here's the thing, submissive... Obedience isn't impressive when you want it this much. It's not a sacrifice if you want it. It isn't brave..." You can sense a certain hesitation in their eyes. Maybe you're pushing things too far, but you don't care. You take a step closer, close enough to touch... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> obediently keeps <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> arms behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back, hands locked around <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> wrists... You whisper softly in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> ear: "It's instinct. You were made for this." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> jaw tightens, eyes fluttering briefly... Your words have hit something, and all of a sudden the hesitation you saw for a short moment in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> eyes is gone, replaced by an almost reverent calm. "Say it." you urge, taking a slow walk around <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>, admiring their naked body from all angles. "I was made for you, $ch8_bdsm_name... To obey you..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> voice trembles softly, throat catching. Calmly, you finish your walk around them. There's a can of water over on one of the tables, and two glasses. You walk over, pouring yourself a glass of water while <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> stands there, naked, waiting for you. Then you fill your mouth with water, slowly slowshing it around... And spit the warm water back into the glass. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is watching you, fascinated, hands still behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back. You approach, glass in hand, filled with the water that was just in your mouth... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> knees wobble slightly when you approach, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> remains upright, just like <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> was told. You hold the glass in front of you, at hip level, tilted ever-so-slightly in their direction. "On your knees, submissive. Drink." With a hoarse voice and a bowed head, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> replies: "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name." [[Your submissive kneels in front of you...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">When your submissive kneels, they do so while keeping their hands behind their back. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> looks up at you, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> gaze going from your eyes to the glass. You tilt it further, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> has to lean forward to reach the glass... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> lips touch it, tentative at first. Then <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> tilts <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head back and down, drinking it all without a moment's pause. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> maintains eye contact with you the whole time... When <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>>'s done, you take the empty glass and set it aside with a soft clink. You step back again, just enough to look at your submissive fully. The wooden floor must be uncomfortable where <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> kneels naked. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He still has a rock hard erection...<<else>>Her horny pussy has left a wet stain of the floorboards between her legs...<</if>> There's a long pause when you admire <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> posture. Your submissive has a straight spine, despite the discomfort they find themselves in. The room is silent but charged, every second stretched out between the two of you. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is breathing heavily when you approach and tilt <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chin up again to meet your eyes. Then you slowly bury your fingers in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> short hair, massaging <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> scalp. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> opens <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth and closes <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> eyes at your touch. The faintest of moans can be heard from <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> lips... "Do you think you deserve to be rewarded submissive, for being such a good <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>>?" You ask, letting go of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chin, while still massaging <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> scalp. It's clear that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> does not know how to respond, but eventually <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> says: "I... I hope so $ch8_bdsm_name..." [[Slap them on the cheek.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Dani's startled yelp echoes in the room, accompanied by the sound of your palm connecting with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> cheeks. Your fingers are buried deep in their hair, ensuring that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> physically feels the power you hold over <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. "There. A reward. What do you say, submissive?" You're beginning to enjoy this... And so is <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>>, because without missing a beat, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> obediently whispers: "Thank you, $ch8_bdsm_name..." Satisfied with Dani's answer, you finally let go of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> hair. "Good <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>>." You muse, taking a few steps back until you reach the bed. There, you take your time to sit down with a slow, deliberate grace, legs crossed, hands resting on your legs. Your eyes are only on Dani. Your submissive. [["Crawl."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">No further direction. No destination. Just the command... The freedom to choose where and how to crawl laced inside the dominant command to do so in the first place. Dani doesn't ask where. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> doesn't need to. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> leans forward, until <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is on all fours. Then <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> approaches you and the bed, one step at a time, enjoying the act because it was you who gave it to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. Eventually, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> arrives at the foot of the bed. There you wait, still and composed, like a queen waiting for a tribute. "Look at you..." You comment, feeling truly alive with the power dynamic so eagerly given to you by Dani. "You're right where you belong now submissive... Aren't you?" Your question is met with a nod and an averted gaze. "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name..." "Kiss my shoes." You command as you sit on the bed, with Dani crawling on the floor next to you. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> sets to work immediately, bowing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head down to your dirty shoes, kissing each of them not once, not twice... But three times. "That's good..." You comment, telling Dani that you're satisfied with their show. However, now you find yourself wondering what to do next... Surely you've dominated them enough already? You understand what Tryton meant. About the mind space and the feeling of power. Thus, you have learned the lesson he intended to teach. [[You want to take things further though...]] [[You've seen enough. Tell them to kneel and wait in the room.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You recall Tryton's comment. That both brother and sister enjoy a good spanking... You glance down at your submissive, crawling on the floor at your feet, waiting... Yes, Dani certainly deserves to be rewarded. "Get over my knee, submissive." You command, still sitting at the foot of the bed. The softest of whimpers escapes Dani's lips as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> stands up, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his erect penis dangling very close to your face<<else>>her soaking wet pussy so very close to your face<</if>> for a brief moment, then lowers <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>himself<<else>>herself<</if>> down across your lap. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> naked body is trembling as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> settles down, stomach and chest resting on the soft blankets of the bed to your left, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> ass held up high and resting on your right leg... You can feel the heat of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> body radiating warmth, and <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> shallow breaths... All by <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>himself<<else>>herself<</if>>, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> has put <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>himself<<else>>herself<</if>> in a very compromising position. For you... "Ready?" You ask, just to make sure Dani is comfortable with this. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> soft whimper confirms it: "Yes, $ch8_bdsm_name..." Slowly, you stroke <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> naked bottom. It is <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>hard and well-trained<<else>>soft and round<</if>>... Your submissive's back arches down to push <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> backside up in anticipation for the first swat... You raise your hand high and slap it firmly down across <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> naked bottom. Dani gasps as the sound of the impact echoes in the room. But you give <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> no time to rest as you raise your hand again. Your slap leaves a red mark on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> right asscheek, and a satisfying grunt echoes from <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> throat in response. You give a thorough spanking, knowing that this is what they want. That this is how they want to be treated. Dani moans and gasps in your lap as you continue spanking <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> bottom. Your hand comes down, again and again, hard and quick. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> grunts and whimpers of pain and mixed with moans of pleasure. Dani is clearly in pain, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> does not want to escape... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> wants more. [[You've spanked them enough.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_electro">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Dani catches <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> breath after you're done, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> bottom a red mess from your treatment. You trace your hand over the small of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back, up to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> shoulders, then back again. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> is breathing hard now, like <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>>'s run a mile without stopping. "I'm waiting..." You comment, knowing that <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> knows what you mean. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> whisper comes between deep breaths: "Thank you, $ch8_bdsm_name, for spanking me..." "You're most welcome, submissive." You reply, the naked Dani still in your lap. Well, you have certainly had fun... You're starting to feel comfortable with this, going further, but at the same time you've proven everything you needed to. [[What you're planning next requires rope...]] [[You've seen enough. Tell them to kneel and wait in the room.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">It's only so much you can do without properly restraining a submissive. You want to truly take Dani's freedom from <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. To make them completely at your mercy... And you know for a fact that Tryton probably has everything you need, with the other sibling. "What room is your <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>sister<<else>>brother<</if>> staying in?" You ask, still softly caressing their back with your fingers. "Room 55, $ch8_bdsm_name...Why?" <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> voice betrays genuine confusion. "That is for me to know, and you to find out. Kneel and wait for me." You retort, and without hesitation, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> stands up from the bed and kneels next to you, hands on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> legs. Dani glances at you when you grab the key, head out through the door and lock it behind you. Then you're in the corridor, walking past room after room until you find it. Room 55. You knock, a short sharp knock. Then you wait, patiently, until you hear footsteps. Tryton opens the door to peek outside. "Taru...?" Tryton asks, amused. He checks the corridor then opens the door wide. Behind him is a blindfolded, gagged and fully tied up <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>>, hanging suspended in the air from a hook in the ceiling, naked. As inspiring as that is, you need to be more realistic with what you're about to do with your own submissive... "I need rope." You simply say, short and concise. Tryton's amused look turns into a grin. "Ah, appetite grows with eating, doesn't it?" He goes back into the room and rummages around in a suitcase. A grunt and moan in protest escapes <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>>'s throat where they hang helplessly in the middle of the room... But Tryton ignores <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>her<<else>>him<</if>>. "Here. Just make sure to use knots like these and you'll be fine..." Tryton says, taking a few minutes to show you a safe knot to use on his own submissive bundle. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniela<<else>>Daniel<</if>> is helplessly hanging from the ropes in the ceiling throughout Tryton's tutorial... Then Tryton hands three bundles of rope to you. "Thanks, I'll use those knots, for sure..." You comment back, having learned from the master himself how to do safe rope knots. Then you rush back, leaving the kinky fucks to their games. Because your mind is on your own kinky submissive... [[Ropes in hand, you return to room 69...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png"><<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is waiting patiently for you exactly where you left <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> eyes go to the bundles of rope in your arms when you enter and lock the door behind you. "Don't get too excited, submissive." You tease, seeing the look on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>'s face. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> turns <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> gaze away from you, back toward the back of the room, and says: "I won't, $ch8_bdsm_name..." If what Tryton says is right, and what you've seen so far, that was a lie. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> would love nothing more to be tied up, just like <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>sister<<else>>brother<</if>>... "You wouldn't lie to me, would you submissive? You are already excited, aren't you?" You ask after taking a few steps into the room. You're standing right behind them and toss two of your ropes on the floor in front of them. You keep the third and last bundle of rope in your hand, casually resting it on Dani's shoulder. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> shudders when you brush the coarse rope against <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> skin, from shoulder to neck... "I'm sorry, $ch8_bdsm_name... I am..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> whimper is satisfying to hear. As you thought... After a moment's consideration, you say: [["Show me how excited you are: Touch yourself."]] [["Put your hands behind your back."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Your submissive seems to hesitate... "... Now, $ch8_bdsm_name?" Dani asks, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> voice surprised. "Do I have to repeat myself?" Your stern voice awakens something in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>, and <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> immediately starts <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>stroking his cock<<else>>caressing her pussy<</if>>, still obediently kneeling in front of you, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back turned to you. The <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>sound of Daniel<<else>>wet sound of Daniela<</if>> masturbating fills the room. "Good <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>>. You're filthy and desperate to please, aren't you?" You brush the rope across Dani's neck, while <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he vigorously strokes his erect cock<<else>>she viguously fingers her pussy<</if>>. "I live to please you, $ch8_bdsm_name." Your submissive grunts, without stopping <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> masturbation. You let Dani continue for a while, then command: [["Put your hands behind your back."]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Your submissive immediately does so, willingly and eagerly listening to your command. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is kneeling in front of you, with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> hands behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back. You recall Tryton's brief tutorial, how to tie the knots, and what they should accomplish. First and foremost, they shouldn't collapse in on themselves. And secondly, they should be strong, so that they cannot be accidentally loosened or opened. And third, they should be aesthetically pleasing... That third part you can probably skip today though. Gently, you guide Dani's wrists together and begin wrapping the rope around them just like Tryton showed you. The ropes quickly restrict the movement of your willing submissive, and with a few of Tryton's knots, you completely immobilize their arms from the elbows down all the way to their wrists. "I like how willingly you make yourself helpless for me, submissive." You whisper into Dani's ear when you're done with the first set of rope. "Anything for you, $ch8_bdsm_name..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> whispers back, naked and exposed in the tavern's room, hands now bound behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back. "Knees together. Lean on the bed..." You command next, forcing your submissive to kneel with their legs and feet together. Dani leans on the bed with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chest, shoulders and face, for extra support. Then you pull <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet up, so that Dani is forced to stand directly on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees. However, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> doesn't protest at all, not even when you wrap ropes around <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> legs, from <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees all the way down to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet. You secure these ropes with a few of Tryton's knots, turning Dani into quite a helplessly naked and horny package of ropes indeed. The sight of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> bound body, kneeling on the floor and resting partial on the bed with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> upper body for support is quite something... Is this how Tryton saw you too, dangling from the roof in ropes? It's... Mesmerizing. [[Connect the ropes on the wrists with the ropes on the legs...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">You take in the heavy news, but decide to drop the subject for now.<<if $ch4_tryton_helps_with_piru is true>> In the silence you recall that Tryton promised to help you get rid of Piru. "I overheard some infernal servants talking about demonic pacts..." You begin, getting Tryton's attention. You explain to him in detail everything you know about the pact: That you need to steal the writ with the pact<<if $ch7_get_scroll_with_ritual is true>>, the cleansing ritual written on the scroll you now carry in a hidden pocket,<</if>><<if $ch7_grab_pendant is true>> and the pendant that can kill Piru<</if>>. Tryton nods thoughtfully at your tale. When you're finished, he drinks a bit of wine, then sighs: "Unfortunately, I cannot help with the stealing. I have no power or influence in hell. Perhaps you should consider asking for help from someone more familiar with the realm? Maybe one of those infernal servants?" He muses. Well, that isn't a terrible idea, actually... Assuming you can trust anyone with the mission. "Once you have the writ, I can certainly help you prepare the necessary ritual<<if $ch7_get_scroll_with_ritual is false>>, whatever that may be. With this new information you've given me, I should be able to figure out something<</if>>." Right. "Sounds like a plan." You simply say, thoughts already on the daunting task of how you'll get your hands on the writ to your pact from Piru's infernal realm... Tryton interrupts your thoughts, however:<<else>>Tryton doesn't let the silence stretch on for too long, however:<</if>> "We should probably resume your lessons in domination. Assuming you're ready?" His smile invites you in, to share in a secret that only he knows. You know what that would mean... But somehow, Tryton's proposal doesn't seem right... Ebbe's <<if $ch7_kill_kerr is true>>and Kerr's<</if>> death <<if $ch7_kill_kerr is true>>are<<else>>is<</if>> still fresh on your mind, and you're in no mood for Tryton's proposal. "Sorry, but I don't feel like playing these domination games..." Tryton clamly observes you. "It's a matter of life and death, a battle for your soul... What could be more important that practicing for the most important confrontation of your life?" Well, when he puts it that way... "<<if $ch7_kill_kerr is true>>Two<<else>>One<</if>> of my friends just died... And I haven't had time to process it yet..." Tryton's expression softens. "Ah, yes, I understand... For me, time and distractions are the best way to deal with grief. What I propose is a distraction, which just happens to be vitally important for when you face the abyss too..." You know there's truth in what he says. You're not quite ready to face the loss, the ramification. <<if $ch7_kill_kerr is true>>Kerr's death is of course your doing, unlike Ebbe's, but you need to accept the blood that now figuratively stains your hands. <</if>>Maybe a distraction is exactly what you need. [[Fine. You'll do it...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Fine. You'll do it. You will harden yourself against the abyss in any way possible. "I'm ready." You simply say, not quite in the same mischievous mood as Tryton. He frowns at your reply. "Being a Domina is not about being serious or angry. It's about having an intrinsic pondus, a tangible presence even though you look calm and say nothing. This is what we want to achieve. For you to truly become confident in yourself, taking space where you otherwise would not have. This is the first step in ensuring your inevitable encounter with Astorolus will be successful. The last thing we need is for you to cover in fear, reduced to a terrified mouse in the presence of a prowling cat." Right. That's what you expected...? "And how exactly do we prepare for that?" You ask, your full attention on Tryton. His gaze scans the room, ignoring you for the moment. Then he gestures lazily at a table with two red-haired patrons, drinking and laughing. "See those two, a few of tables away?" He asks. You see a young handsome man with short red hair and a clean shaven face. He is very well dressed. He looks to be about your age, maybe a summer or two younger. Across from him sits a stunning lady, with the same fiery red hair as the man. Her hair is short, matching that of the man. They could be twins... Tryton is looking at you, with a raised eyebrow. "Which one do you fancy?" He asks. You retort, confused: "... Fancy in what way? For what?" He rolls his eyes in response. "For intimate domination, obviously. Remember what I did to you?" Your cheeks blush crimson at his comment. Wait, what is he... Oh. "You can't be serious..." Your breath catches when you glance back at the handsome man and the beautiful woman, then back at Tryton again. "Quite serious. Of course, you have no proper training in anything as elaborate as that, so you'll simply have to use words to get them to do what you want. No ropes involved." He is, turns out, very serious. Well, what did you expect his lesson would be? He quite literally told you that you must learn to dominate, or you will become dominated by the abyss once you make contact... But still, putting it to words and making it real like this somehow still managed to surprise you. "Look... I'm not comfortable splitting up two people with something like this..." You begin to protest, but Tryton waves your concerns away. "Don't worry about that. They are, as you can probably tell, brother and sister. Besides, I happen to know that both of them would enjoy the kind of experience you will be offering... Despite you being a stranger. Indeed, it simply adds to the experience for them." He smiles, like he knows something. "And how, exactly, do you know that?" You ask, inviting him to elaborate. His amused smile says it all. "No! Both of them?" You ask, stunned. Tryton gives you a sly nod. "Not at the same time, of course. That would be weird. But yes, they've both loved the rope treatment and attention I've given them. And I do know for a fact that both of them enjoy a good spanking. Just go over there and tell them you're looking for a pet... They'll know what it means." Tryton says, a twinkle in his eyes. Well. Shit. Is there anyone in Valkama who isn't a kinky fuck? Tryton waves casually in the sibling's direction, and they return the gesture by raising their glasses. Well, they certainly seem to know Tryton. The woman gives you a curious, long, look... And the guy smiles when he sees you. Fuck... After a careful moment's consideration, you say... <<set $linkText to "\"I fancy the lady.\"">>[[$linkText|domina path][$ch8_bdsm_is_guy to false]] <<set $linkText2 to "\"I fancy the guy.\"">>[[$linkText2|domina path][$ch8_bdsm_is_guy to true]] [["I can't do this."]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "spicy_guitar">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Something prevents you from stopping. You're thoroughly invested in the moment, in your submissive's naked and bound body, and the art the rope makes digging softly into their flesh... Without pause, you bring Dani's feet up again, securing another length of rope in the ropes already wrapped around <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> legs. Then you pull <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet up, as far as they go, and connect the new rope with the rope already attached to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> wrists. This forces <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> hands to be pulled straight and down, towards <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet, while <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet are pulled up. In this position, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is completely helpless, barely balancing on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees on the floor. But still <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> doesn't protest at all... You admire your handiwork when you're finished with the knots. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> is a lovely package, waiting to be used, unable to prevent anything you can imagine... You have completely dominated them, making them give full power over them. The feeling is... Ecstatic. For a moment you debate whether to end this session here and untie them, or if you should continue... [[Finish the session here.]] [[Continue... You're getting horny just from watching them...]]

<<silently>> <<set $ch8_sex_with_dani to true>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You find their compromising position quite... Exciting. Your own hunger has awoken, and with Dani kneeling like that... Well, you just have to take full advantage. "I want you to taste my pussy, submissive. What do you think of that?" So far your submissive has not used the safewords, to stop or slow down. You wonder if <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> will now... To your delight, and surpsise, they reply: "I would love to taste your pussy, $ch8_bdsm_name." The hunger in <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> eyes... A desperate sort of horny hunger, eager to please, eager to lose oneself in the moment. You recognize it quite well. You felt the same when Tryton tied you up in ropes... Dani is trying to watch you from the bed, kneeling as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is against it, but you remain purposefully behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. Now it's your turn to undress, and you do so without haste. Your submissive shakes from anticipation by the time you're done. It is you who is in charge, even though you're now just as naked as Dani. Slowly, you walk to the bed, making sure your submissive can see you. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>His<<else>>Her<</if>> eyes grow wide with delight at seeing your naked body standing next to them... You grab <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> by the hair, pulling <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> back just far enough from the bed that you can squeeze past <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> whimpers in pain from your pull, and from being forced to take <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> full weight on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees... When you spread your legs, you know your power over them is complete. Dani is on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees on the floor in front of you, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face inches away from the wetness between your legs. Your hands grab <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head and left shoulder, gently guiding Dani's face back down toward the bed and your pussy... Dani's eyes are on the mound between your legs, getting closer to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face inch by inch as you force <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> down and forward, helplessly balancing on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> knees... [[Push your submissive's face down into your pussy...]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You feel that this is quite enough. You could go on, that much is clear. Dani here, your submissive, would probably love for you to take advantage of them in their current predicament... But you have better things to do. Besides, didn't you prove that you have it in you? To be dominant. That was the purpose of all this, wasn't it? "This was fun, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>. Just a second, let me untie you..." You say, with a warm voice. Dani is breathing hard as you release the knots, but eventually <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is freed for all bondage and sits comfortably on the bed. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> watches you, a curious look on their face, and a smile. "Thank you, Taru... This was... Quite something." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> says, a genuinely blissful look on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face. "I know exactly what you're feeling. But I must admit, you're quite a natural submissive." You comment, tossing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> clothes to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. "It's easy to be, when a confident woman like you takes charge." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> comments as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> begins to dress. Dani's body shakes ever so slightly from the lingering strain of the ropes and the intensity of the moment. "It was lovely meeting you. Take care now, I still have some business with Tryton." You comment, already on your way out of the room. "Wait..." Dani rushes up from the bed, half dressed, and wraps <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> arms around you in a tight hug. Confused, you return the gesture... "Thank you..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> whispers, sincerely. You can't help but whisper back: "Thank you, too..." Then the hug ends, and Dani waves you on. "Go on. New adventures await. I'll stay here, gather my strength... Goodbye, Taru." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> says, sitting back on the bed and continues putting <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> clothes on. "Goodbye, Dani." You muse, wave, and finally head out into the corridor... Then you head downstairs where you order another drink. You find an empty table and wait for Tryton to be done with the other sibling... It's only now that you're alone again that you can breathe, calm yourself, and relax. That was... Intense. [[Wait for Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">"Eat my pussy like it's the only thing you're good for, submissive." You instruct the deliciously tied up <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> just before you plunge <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> the final inch down, connecting <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth and your pussy with a wet sucking sound. Your fingers dig deep into <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> hair when you force <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> down between your legs, but <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> does not miss a beat. Dani's practiced tongue is out, eagerly licking and tasting your juices, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> lips kissing and sucking in just the right places. You lose yourself in the pleasure, grunting as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> continues the cunningulus <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> bound body is forced to perform. But <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> tongue says otherwise... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> wants to please, and uses every trick in the book to do so. You're soon panting and whimpering, quite helpless yourself. Sometimes you even forget to push Dani down and assert your dominance over <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>, but it doesn't stop <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> from exploring your vulva, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> rough tongue licking your clitoris with intense care before digging into your pussy and fucking you. It just feels so damned good... Your submissive barely has time to breathe, so devoted is <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> to your pleasure. And that is how it should be. Fresh air and breathing is for you, while sucking your cunt is for your submissive. You throw yourself down on the bed, lying on your back, and bury your good little submissive's face in your pussy with your strong thighs. There's no escape, and the tied up <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> knows it, and so <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> continues dutifully pleasing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> master. Your back arches from a sudden spasm in your muscles, sending wave after wave of intense warmth throughout your body. An involuntary moan escapes your lips, and your thighs squeeze your poor submissive's head harder. But that tongue, it just doesn't stop... You aren't in control anymore, are you? You're lost, tongue-fucked by <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth fully owning your pussy. You have never been pleasured quite like this... Even without fingers to use, tied up behind <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> back as they are, Dani still manages to bring you to an incredible climax, cumming hard, collapsing under the weight of a dozen tidal waves of orgasms that rock your body, all radiating from your pussy all the way to your extremities. You catch your breath, lying on the bed, your submissive's head still between your legs. [[Holy fuck...]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You lie there, naked on the bed, staring at the ceiling. You're out-of-breath, panting, shaking and sweaty. The cunningulus has stopped, and for a blissful moment you forget all the worries of the world. Then a stirring reminds you of Dani, who coughs and gasps for air when you release the grip of <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>>'s flustered and red in the face, your wetness running down <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> chin, covering <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth, nose and cheeks. Your cunt juices on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face reflect the light of the candles as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> gasps for air. "Good <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>>... That was... Well done, submissive..." You gasp yourself. Both of you are breathing hard, your heart racing, a thunder in your chest. Well done indeed... "Thank you, $ch8_bdsm_name..." Dani finally manages to say, obediently bowing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> head before <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> superior. You feel such good service cannot go unrewarded. After recovering for a moment, you... [[Lift your submissive into bed.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Dani is hogtied, wrists tied to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> feet. You finally push yourself up from the bed, and grab the rope that connects wrists and feet. A surprised yelp comes from your submissive when you lift Dani up, struggling with the surprising weight. But somehow you manage to do it, bringing the deviously bound and completely naked <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> onto the bed with a soft crash that makes the wooden frame creak in protest. You're on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> before <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> has time to register what's happening. With swift hands, you push <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> side, then jump into bed behind Dani. You're now on your knees on the bed behind their back. "A good submissive <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>boy<<else>>girl<</if>> like you deserves to be used... Like a toy." You murmur into <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> ear. You tower over your submissive from your kneeling position, and <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> helplessly whimpers when your left hand presses down on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth. Your fingers completely block <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> from breathing with <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> mouth, and your fingers partially block <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> nose as well. Breathing comes hard for <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>> now. Then you begin... With your right hand, you reach down between <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> legs, finding what you're looking for... A soft gasp and moan escapes Dani's lips when you begin... <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>[[Pleasure him with your hand.]]<<else>>[[Pleasure her with your fingers.]]<</if>>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Daniela's tied up body and hyper-sensitive pussy react exactly as you expected when your fingers slide into her. She's soaking wet and ready for you, like her cunt has simply been waiting for you to enter and use her... With your left hand you block her breathing, but not entirely. You can feel your pussy juices on her face, getting stuck on your fingers and palm when you press your hand against her mouth... Her breathing is hard, laboured, but you know she's going to be fine. She is in sub heaven right now, and her pussy tells you all you need to know. It's ready and willing, spasming when your fingers slide in and out, edging her on. She lubricates herself with her horny wetness, and all you need to do is slide in a second finger, then a third, and fuck her harder and faster. She's gasping for air, and moaning helplessly. Then you pause for just a tiny moment, letting her take one long breath before you block her nose and mouth completely with your hand. Her soft moans and desperate grunts try to escape her lips, but your firm hand prevents most of them. You finger-fuck her exposes cunt faster, sliding three of your fingers all the way into her in a flurry. She stands no chance against you and your touch, having completely surrendered her body to you. She cums with a desperate gasp, her body spasming under your weight, but you don't let her escape. Throughout her orgasms, you continue fucking her ensuring she is completely spent... You know when to stop when her body finally stops spasming, and her soft moans stop. That's when you finally release your left hand, allowing her to take long gasping breaths of air... You feel this session has well and truly ended now, with both you and Daniela reaching a satisfying climax. [[Untie your submissive.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">Daniel's tied up body and hyper-sensitive cock react exactly as you expected when you take a firm grasp of his shaft. It pulses, fully erect, willing and waiting... With your left hand you block his breathing, but not entirely. You can feel your pussy juices on his face, getting stuck on your fingers and palm when you press your hand against his mouth... His breathing is hard, laboured, but you know he's going to be fine. He is in sub heaven right now, and his cock tells you all you need to know. It's rock hard and spasms on your hand when you stroke it, edging him on. You freely use his pre-cum to lubricate the tip of his cock, stroking harder, faster. He's gasping for air, and moaning helplessly. Then you pause for just a tiny moment, letting him take one long breath before you block his nose and mouth completely with your hand. His soft moans and desperate grunts try to escape his lips, but your firm hand prevents most of them. You stroke his cock faster, sliding his cock between your fingers in a flurry. He stands no chance against you and your touch, having completely surrendered his body to you. He cums with a desperate gasp, spilling his seeds onto the bedsheets in four explosive bursts of orgasm. Throughout, you have not stopped jerking his cock, ensuring he spills everything, until he is completely spent... When he's done, you finally release your left hand, allowing him to take long gasping breaths of air... You feel this session has well and truly ended now, with both you and Daniel reaching a satisfying climax. [[Untie your submissive.]]

<<silently>> <<fadeInMusicFunction "full_mysterious_diamond">> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch8/GARDENS_DELIGHT_UPSTAIRS.png">You're nothing but two thoroughly satisfied and relaxed individuals, sweaty and panting after an intense session. You have absolutely shown who is in charge. How to be dominant. That was the purpose of all this, wasn't it? "This was extremely fun, <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>>. Just a second, let me untie you..." You say, with a warm voice. Dani is breathing hard as you release the knots, but eventually <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> is freed for all bondage and sits comfortably on the bed. <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> watches you when you get dressed, a curious look on their face, and a smile. "Thank you, Taru... This was... Quite something." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> says, a genuinely blissful look on <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> face."I know exactly what you're feeling. But I must admit, you're quite a natural submissive." You comment, tossing <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> clothes to <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>him<<else>>her<</if>>. "It's easy to be, when a confident woman like you takes charge." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> comments as <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>he<<else>>she<</if>> begins to dress. Dani's body shakes ever so slightly from the lingering strain of the ropes and the intensity of the moment. "It was lovely meeting you. Take care now, I still have some business with Tryton." You comment, already on your way out of the room. "Wait..." Dani rushes up from the bed, half dressed, and wraps <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> arms around you in a tight hug. Confused, you return the gesture... "Thank you..." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>Daniel<<else>>Daniela<</if>> whispers, sincerely. You can't help but whisper back: "Thank you, too..." Then the hug ends, and Dani waves you on. "Go on. New adventures await. I'll stay here, gather my strength... Goodbye, Taru." <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>He<<else>>She<</if>> says, sitting back on the bed and continues putting <<if $ch8_bdsm_is_guy is true>>his<<else>>her<</if>> clothes on. "Goodbye, Dani." You muse, wave, and finally head out into the corridor... Then you head downstairs where you order another drink. You find an empty table and wait for Tryton to be done with the other sibling... It's only now that you're alone again that you can breathe, calm yourself, and relax. That was... Intense. [[Wait for Tryton.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch2/TAVERN_INTERIOR.png">Your statement is met with disappointment by Tryton. "Well... Let's hope you are ready for the abyss when the time comes, without proper training..." For a moment you expected him to protest and insist on you doing this, but he does not. The red haired siblings' curiosity has been left unanswered... A silence grows between the two of you, but you have made up your mind. You cannot do what he asks for. Instead, your mind goes to Hermes Dirk and the next concrete things you are actually willing to do... "Well, I'd best start planning..." You're about to leave when Tryton holds up his hand. "There's one more thing you might want to know about Dirk..." [[He has your attention.|astrid reveal]]

<<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/ch1/1-0016.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... <<piruSceneTransition >>

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0481.png">You're not going to do it. Piru can throw his worst at you... But you refuse to be his concubine tonight.<<if $ch5_harsh_punishment is true>> You find your thief armour and clothing in the room, and decide to put those on instead of the provocatively revealing dress that Piru no doubt expects you do wear.<</if>> Then you take a deep breath, try to look more confident than you feel, and walk through the room into Piru's bedroom. The doorway behind you disappears as soon as you leave the room. A solid wall of pulsating obsidian rock appears behind you, radiating infernal heat. A glance around you reveals that you've arrived directly in Piru's bedchamber. Before you, at the far end of the room, are Mistress Gan and Piru, in his bed. You approach cautiously, and notice Mistress Gan is wearing the same outfit as before: The transparent red silk dress, and a black bra and underwear underneath. Piru, on the other hand, is completely naked. His demonic superiority and confidence pulses through him, demanding absolute awe from his subjects. From his concubines. They stop their discussion when they see you approaching. Mistress Gan leaves the bed with a disappointing look on her face. "I told you she wouldn't join us. She looks like what she is... A low-life trash. This is not how a proper concubine behaves..." She says, more to Piru than to you. "I refuse to be a part of this... You forced me into this deal, Piru. You took advantage of someone who was in no position to refuse your demands... I will help you seal the abyss, but that is as far as our pledge goes." You say loudly, feeling your heart beating in your chest, like a terrified bird thrashing against its cage. You feel like you need to throw up, and your vision blurs slightly... But you remain defiant, staring at Mistress Gan and Piru. Gan is silent, her experssion unreadable... The silence that stretches is oppressively quiet... [[Finally, Piru smiles.]]

<<silently>> <</silently>><img class="center" src="img/ch5/5-0498.png">"Ah... So the kitten bares her amusingly tiny claws, at last. How darling. Very well, sweetest Taru, most stubborn of my wayward flock... Just this once, I shall tilt the scales of my favour and permit your trespass upon the bounds of your sworn word. Consider it a gift, wrapped in magnanimity, tied with the silk of my waning indulgence. But take heed, and take it well... My patience, though vast, is not infinite... And my benevolence, though radiant, is not without its thorns. And you... You are now dancing on the very edge of it... Are we understood?" There's a threat in his voice, but also a challenge. He forgives you this one time... But he will not take no for an answer again. Your throat is dry... Then you nod. You understand him perfectly well... You realize that he is fuming with anger, but somehow controls himself... And just like that, he's done with you... He snaps his finger... [[Piru summons a portal, sending you back to the mortal realm...]]

(This scene has been removed from the game due to potentially violating payment processor rules.) [[(Continue)|Leave the room.]]