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You bring your ax down at an angle on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. You’ve heard the sound of a man dying before – even men dying more gruesome ways at your own hand – but the sound never fails to make you sick.

Your prisoner’s clothes, ratty and torn, are now covered with sprayed blood.

The table has two changes of clothing for you: the set the Mistress provided and your clothes.

[GET DRESSED IN THE CLOTHES THE MISTRESS PROVIDED] [GET DRESSED IN YOUR OWN CLOTHES]

#path b

“Then try to kill me,” you answer.

You twist back quickly, away from but still close enough you’re able to swing your ax blade at his hip. You connect with a sickening sound, though you suspect that the cut was not too deep. The guard falls to one knee, his dagger clattering to the floor.

You stand over the man inadvertently bowing to you. You clutch your ax with both hands, and realize how much power you have in this moment.

[KILL THE GUARD] [LEAVE]

#path b

You level a stare at the guard, your chest heaving with adrenaline under his blade, and you drop your ax the ground with a resigned clatter.

He smiles. The expression doesn’t convey much in terms of happiness, but rather the cocksure feeling of having won a fight. You hate that expression, and just to demonstrate your level of contempt, you decide to spit in the guard’s face before turning and getting dressed in the clothing The Mistress left for you.

[GET DRESSED]

#path b

You bring the ax down, its blade slicing the air where the guard’s shoulder should have been. He stepped to the side, coming closer to you. You twist, bringing the ax’s momentum toward the guard. His arm stretches out, hitting the ax’s handle. You tighten your grip, desperate not to lose your ax again, but this only causes you to stagger.

The guard uses this opening, his dagger’s blade stopping just over your sternum.

You stare at him, wondering why he spared you. He could’ve stabbed you in the ribs, in the heart, gone for your throat…

“The Mistress wants you alive,” he growls. “Or I’d kill you for that.”

[SURRENDER] [KEEP FIGHTING]

#path b

You duck out of the guard’s grasp and lunge for your hand ax. You don’t have a plan, but if you could just manage to wrap your hand around it…

Success! You hear the guard stumble behind you, trying to grab your tunic, but you’re too fast. The weight of ax in your hand gives you confidence as you heft it upward. The guard is bigger than you, but he’s armed with only a dagger. You could make it out of this fight; maybe not completely unscathed, but definitely alive.

[FIGHT THE GUARD] [INTIMIDATE THE GUARD INTO LETTING YOU GO]

#path b

You duck out of the guard’s grasp and lunge for your sword. You don’t have a plan, but if you could just manage to wrap your hand around it…

You’re not fast enough, though. The guard grabs you roughly on the back of your tunic and you stumble. Your head hits the floor with decided thunk, and you stare upwards at the exposed timbers of the ceiling. The world is spinning a bit as you try to raise your head off the ground.

You don’t get far, though, before the guard puts his foot on your chest.

“If I let you up, will you be good?”

Dazed, you acquiesce and quietly [get dressed].

You duck out of the guard’s grasp and lunge for your bow. You don’t have a plan, but if you could just manage to wrap your hand around it…

You’re not fast enough, though. The guard grabs you roughly on the back of your tunic and you stumble. Your head hits the floor with decided thunk, and you stare upwards at the exposed timbers of the ceiling. The world is spinning a bit as you try to raise your head off the ground.

You don’t get far, though, before the guard puts his foot on your chest.

“If I let you up, will you be good?”

Dazed, you acquiesce and quietly [get dressed].

#path b

You put on the elaborate clothes you have been given to wear. They have been finely embroidered with the same reflective black thread that adorns the guard’s uniform, but your tunic is made of white velvet, and your leggings of tan, soft leather. Your boots look especially ragged and worn in comparison to the fine clothing. You feel remarkably like a doll being dressed at the whims of the Mistress, but you are in no position to argue, so [you allow the guard to lead you up into the house].

#path c

You put on the elaborate clothes you have been given to wear. They have been finely embroidered with the same reflective black thread that adorns the guard’s uniform, but your tunic is made of white velvet, and your leggings of tan, soft leather. Your boots look especially ragged and worn in comparison to the fine clothing. You feel remarkably like a doll being dressed at the whims of the Mistress, but you are in no position to argue, so [you allow the guard to lead you up into the house].

#path b

Of late you’ve developed the habit of holding your bow even when unnecessary, just to rub your thumb over the taut sinew. Your shoulders shrug unconsciously, seeking the feeling of the quiver on your back [as you walk toward the exit].

#path c

You emerge from the darkened area where your cell was to a cellar stocked with barrels and bottled wine. The three candles on a single table illuminate your rucksack resting on a chair, you can see your bow and quiver sticking out of it. You walk toward it, but the guard clamps a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“No; I will be hanging onto that until you’ve spoken to the Mistress.” He gestures toward a stack of neatly folded clothing on the table. “She has instructed me to tell you that you will be wearing this to dinner.”

[GET DRESSED] [ARGUE]

#path c

You miss having your sword on your hip, with the reassuring feel of the engraved silver scabbard against your thigh. Your hands itch to rest on the hilt [as you walk toward the exit].

#path c

You emerge from the darkened area where your cell was to a cellar stocked with barrels and bottled wine. The three candles on a single table illuminate your rucksack resting on a chair, you can see your sword sticking out of it. You walk toward it, but the guard clamps a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“No; I will be hanging onto that until you’ve spoken to the Mistress.” He gestures toward a stack of neatly folded clothing on the table. “She has instructed me to tell you that you will be wearing this to dinner.”

[GET DRESSED] [ARGUE]

#path c

You miss the heft of your hand ax, with its worn oak handle. You stretch for fingers at your sides, wishing for its reassuring weight [as you walk toward the exit].

#path c

You emerge from the darkened area where your cell was to a cellar stocked with barrels and bottled wine. The three candles on a single table illuminate your rucksack resting on a chair, you can see your ax sticking out of it. You walk toward it, but the guard clamps a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“No; I will be hanging onto that until you’ve spoken to the Mistress.” He gestures toward a stack of neatly folded clothing on the table. “She has instructed me to tell you that you will be wearing this to dinner.”

[GET DRESSED] [ARGUE]

#path c

“You will find out soon enough,” he answers with a grunt. He unlocks the iron grate, which slides with an ear-grating creak to the side. He gestures for you to exit, and as you do so, you see the glint of a dagger on his belt. You sorely wish you had your

[HAND AX] [SWORD] [BOW]

#path c

You emerge from the darkened area where your cell was to a cellar stocked with barrels and bottled wine. The three candles on a single table illuminate your rucksack resting on a chair, you can see your bow and quiver sticking out of it. You walk toward it, but the guard clamps a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“No; I will be hanging onto that until you’ve spoken to the Mistress.” He gestures toward a stack of neatly folded clothing on the table. “She has instructed me to tell you that you will be wearing this to dinner.”

[GET DRESSED] [GRAB YOUR BOW]

#path b

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