#interactive stories

[a-tired-badger]

Luckily, mimics are not made for running.

After a short burst of huffing and puffing, you both risk a peek behind. The door leading to the room with treasure is nowhere to be seen. What a shame. All that effort, and you came away with nothing. Well, there is something.

You pull on Valen’s hand, forcing him to slow. He looks quizzically at you. You tell him that someone is hurt, and you are going to stop and see who is it. You show him your stained hand.

“Dura-it’s not your blood, is it?!”

There is a good bit of shuffling as you both examine yourselves. No definite conclusion could be reached, because both you and him have minor injuries. A few scratches, some bruises, nothing life threatening. Valen carefully touches a cut near his jaw with a groan.

“Not my handsome face!”

You roll your eyes. Valen leans over to look at your scratches, grimacing at the sight of them. “The General will have my head for this if he knew.”

Oh well. Some things are best unsaid. That being said, you offer to dab some ointment on the wounds. What ointment? Of course it’s the healing ointment you carry around that can disinfect and promote healing of minor injuries. Really, what do people think you carry around in your satchel?

“Right.” Valen snorts. “You wouldn’t happen to carry around some wine, do you?”

Unfortunately not. As you prepare to tend to your scratches, Valen gives a small cough. “Say. Why don’t I help you with yours, then you help me with mine?”

Does a man like Valen really need help patching himself up? You doubt it. 

Will you accept his offer?

Yes. No. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

You apologise to the Merchant. You say that you’re very hungry, and you want to get out of here as soon as possible.

Aurelian is aghast. “Merlin, wait. There is no need for violence in a business talk-”

“I accept.” The Merchant doesn’t seem surprised. “If you would be so kind to let me put away my wares first. I would like for their integrity to be preserved.”

You’re not an unreasonable person, so you wait for the Merchant to pack up. Meanwhile, Aurelian is trying to undo the situation. Unfortunately, no one listens to him amidst the gentle sounds of packing.

Aurelian, to none of your surprise, shifts behind you as the Merchant stands. Without the guise of trade, he now looks much more menacing. He draws an expensive looking sword as his weapon of choice. You hear Aurelian gasp. Something about the jewels costing a lot. 

The fight starts off managable. But soon, you realise there is more to the Merchant than fancy wares, and that he is using the least effort possible to end the fight. You step up the intensity with more creatively used simple spells, and you swear you can see the Merchant fighting a smile.

Aurelian, at least, is trying his best to support the fight with his repertoire. It is also now that you discover his skills are best at trade and magical contracts, and less so in battle. Of course. 

In an unspoken agreement, you team up with Aurelian to defeat the Merchant. As the sword clangs to the ground, the Merchant bows. You grab the key from his belt.

“I have a feeling you may come to regret this. But this remains a satisfactory trade for me.”

As you and Aurelian head to the door behind the Merchant to try the key out, the Merchant disappears in a puff of smoke. Lo and behold, the key snaps on the first turn.

Do you search for the Merchant again, or blast the door?

Search. Blast. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

Aurelian steps forward with all the confidence of a gladiator already taking his win. The Merchant eyes him with interest. It must be true that like recognizes like, for the Merchant also straightens up. 

“Greetings. I am Aurelian. What are you trading for? A man like you must encounter many adventurers in this dungeon.”

“Far fewer than you think, my good sir. Adventurers are few but varied, and each have their own treasures that they are willing to trade for my wares.”

“Your potions shimmer with quality. What would you take for them?”

“I accept payment in many forms. Coins are but the most common. Please, name your offer and I shall gladly consider it.”

You’re not much of a business person yourself, considering you have Dolly and Cranky to lend you a hand. As long as you had enough to go by, you spent the time trading and haggling on other more interesting things. Perhaps it was lucky that you picked Aurelian after all.

The two men face off, already deep in discussion about prices and markets. You crouch down to examine the wares. Other than the key to the door hanging from the Merchant’s belt, anything else is up for perusal. There are teeth and claws, some still bloodied. The potions mentioned earlier shimmer with an unknown quality. To the side, jewels and gold lie quietly. There are also objects of an ordinary nature that radiate a magical aura, such as a quill stained with blue, and a pair of boots slightly scuffed. 

Still, there’s only so much to look at. After a while, you notice that the two men are still locked in their trade. It seems to be heating up. Aurelian is holding a perfectly round pearl in his palm, while the Merchant is rubbing the key on his belt. 

Seems like Aurelian isn’t just wearing all those jewels for show. You notice a few bulges in his coat pocket. Very angular bulges. Surely no one carries around jewels for fun?

As nice as it is to let someone do the bargaining, you’re not seeing any progress. It might be better to take actual action.

Do you let the bargaining continue?

Yes. No. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

“Correct.” The frog croaks.

In the blink of an eye, the frog disappears without a trace. Ravion tsks at the emtpy air. “That’s all? I expected more from a talking frog with riddles.”

You hastily state that you just want to get out of this dungeon. The vibes aren’t exactly sunny, and you are eager to get your hands on warm food. Like a warm apple pie. 

“Ah, hunger…such a long forgotten sensation. Most of the Essail only remember the desperate need for the miraculous dew. It makes me wonder about the taste of the food you speak of.”

You point out that the food is outside this dungeon. Ravion agrees. But that doesn’t stop him from examining the weeds that are now starting to pop up, or a stray petal that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Why would living plants suddenly appear? Suspicious, but not enough for you to linger. 

At one point, Ravion slows down again to examine a daisy. You’re about to urge him on, when you remember that he is probably as curious as Indris about the world above ground. While Indris had been leading the movement to introduce the Essail back upwards, Ravion had been cleaning up behind the scenes. Surely he wants a taste of above as well. 

Now you feel bad. You let Ravion pick at the daisy. He’s quite fascinated by it. 

“Surely I am not mistaken, but this path of weeds is leading us towards a garden?”

A garden in a dungeon? You wonder if it is an illusion. 

Around the corner, a sunlit garden comes into view. The area is entirely occupied by living plants; ivy hang from the walls, flowers bloom in uneven groups, and a small tree in the corner entices one with bright red fruit. You prod the ground. It is no longer stone here, but a rich loam. 

If you are enchanted, Ravion is enthralled. He stoops to look at every different plant. He caresses them with the hands of a lover.

The moment his fingers tighten, you warn him NOT to pick anything.

Ravion gives you his best puppy eyed look. Of course, he picks the flower anyway.

As the flower leaves the soil, a low growl sounds out from nowhere. Behind the tree, a monster far larger than it slinks out, eyes glowing with red, fangs bared.

Now what?

Run. Fight. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

“Wrong.” The frog croaks out. 

“How unfortunate.” Ravion answers with far too much cheer. “A gorgeous amphibian like you surely would offer us another chance, no?”

The response apparently is no, because the frog leaps into the air, an impressive feat given its size. As you both instinctively step back, the hallway transforms into a room. No windows, no doors. Just you and Ravion alone in a room. 

“Interesting.” Ravion muses. 

Is interesting the right adjective? You don’t think so. With resignation, you get to work examining the room. The stones offer a nice cold touch. At least they aren’t damp and slimy. You pry at several pieces that look irregular or loose. Fingernails aren’t exactly the best tool to be used here.

“You’ll damage your nails.” Ravion sidles up beside you. “That would be a tragedy indeed.”

You give him a side eye. He chuckles. “There will always be a way out, I assure you. For now, why not enjoy the atmosphere? Don’t you think it is quite romantic? Just the two of us, looking for a way out in a dungeon…”

Romance? You’re starting to feel a headache coming on. 

Seeing your determation to plow on, Ravion joins you in your search for an exit with the occasional commentary. His fingers pick at the stone with far more dexterity than yours. You wonder idly if his nails are harder than human ones, thanks to his draconian blood. If only Ravion kept his fire breathing abilities. 

“Merlin~”

Ravion beckons you over to look at a hidden alcove, unlocked with the push of one particular stone. It’s quite a distance above your head. 

“Come. Let me be of assistance.”

Before you can protest, Ravion picks you off the ground, with one arm around your waist and the other around your hips, lifting you towards the alcove. Must be the dragon blood; how does one so slim pick you up like you’re a baby??

His hands remain gentlemanly as he helps you climb into the alcove. Once steady, you look down at him. Ravion reaches a hand out to you.

Do you help him climb up?

Help. Don’t help Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

You decide that there are better things to do than chasing after Cyran. 

Looking around, you spot a door that is barely visible in this gloom. Thanks to Cyran, you must have missed it on your first tour of this area. You try the door, and voila, it opens. Since someone decided they didn’t want you around, best you proceed alone. 

Nothing exciting happens. A few goblins block your path, waving small blunt knives and yammering about gold. You turn out your pockets to show you have none. Apparently that was the wrong answer, and you’re forced to fend them off with some quick bursts of fire. 

You wander around more, looking for something that resembles an exit. Nope. But you do come across several rooms filled with treasure. A quick examination tells you that some of them are fake. 

After a lot of boring encounters, you spot a familiar figure. What is he doing though? Why is he tugging at something like it owes him rare ingredients?

Upon closer inspection, you realise Cyran has gotten his hand stuck in some sort of mechanism. He does not look pleased to see you. For your own amusement, you continue to watch him struggle for a few more seconds.

“Enjoying the show, Merlin?” He hisses at you. It’s like a cat with its claw stuck. 

You promise not to tell anyone. Cyran doesn’t seem to believe you. Anyway, you circle him to take stock of the situation. Yes, you could definitely free him.

Will you?

Help. Don’t help. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.

[a-tired-badger]

Alright. You can’t use dark magic to teleport yourself. But you can use a simple spell to make the floor slippery, and then another simple spell to slide yourself towards Cyran. Wee.

“Seems like you retained your habit of following me around. How very unstately of the great Merlin.”

There’s no room for him to push you away. Turns out the exit you both spotted isn’t an exit. You should make a joke about deteriorating eyesight that comes with age here. Maybe later. After Cyran is done scrutinizing the rippling portal that just scammed you both. There were no trees here. Just a pair of fools. 

Cyran tosses a pebble into the portal. It bounces back to hit his calf. 

You’re tempted to push him into the portal, or maybe just one of his hands. If he loses a hand, so be it. He might even get a lighter sentence for it. What a genius you are.

“If you’re so keen to test it out, I am willing to act as a witness if you would oblige to personally step in.”

Ah, surely your face hadn’t given it away. With your current option removed, you settle down beside Cyran to examine the puzzle yourself. Using a limited repertoire of spells, you test out several theories. 

It’s an unsettling peace. You sneak glances at Cyran now and then. He deliberately turns his back to you, as if you were trying to cheat with his solution. Please. 

The solution reveals itself with a simple butterfly spell. Inanimate objects are repelled, but live objects are accepted. Solution in hand, you look at Cyran. He has yet to notice. 

Will you tell him the solution to the puzzle? 

Tell. Don’t tell. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.