Ch03 The Forest

(set: $data to StrayHeirs["datastore"])(set: $canundo to false)(set: $array_position to 1)(set: $randarray to (a:(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20),(random: 1,20))) ##Chapter 3 #The Forest |Recap>[(display: "recap") ]You wake to darkness and rhythmic pain as your inert body bounces in time with the clatter of hooves. Everything stinks of animal. Slowly, your situation becomes apparent. You are face-down on the back of a trotting horse, your feet and hands tied on either side of the saddle with hempen rope. Every strike of the horse's gait hammers your flesh. You raise your face, wincing, but see only a blur of twisted branches against the cloud-wracked night sky. Judging by the thunder of hoofbeats, there are at least four horses ahead of you. One of the riders gallops to your side. Clouds slide off the moon, and you glimpse the rider's face. She is pale as ice, her eyes glacial blue, and her hair glimmers like morning mist. A lean red-brown dog lopes beside her, its long ears flopping. [["Help me!"->NyoraSmiles]] [["Fuck you."->FYNyora]]

The rider smiles sweetly, watching you jolt up and down on the horse's back. Abruptly, she spurs her horse onwards. (set: $canundo to true) "Andreas!" she calls, galloping away with the dog at her heels. Her voice sounds like silver bells. "Your pet is waking up." You don't catch the reply, but a third voice adds: "Careful, Andreas. Nyora's been honing her claws since you left." The riders draw ahead; you hear what sounds like banter ending in guffaws, but no words reach you over the clatter of hooves. You do, however, notice that these outlaws do not share the accent of Khargai; rather, they appear to be commoners of Thronheim. Your horse's reins are tied to the pommel; a long rope attached to the halter joins it to the pack-horse ahead, which is likewise attached to a rider's horse. It is not a dignified position. You clench your teeth and try to plot an escape, but the bruising jolting of the horse's gait makes thinking difficult. Its ears are flattened backwards. It crowds the horse ahead, which tosses its head, eyes gleaming white. Then the howling starts. Ahead of you, the outlaws debate. "That's no wolf," snaps the woman -- Nyora? The first howl is behind you, but a second soon joins it off to your left, then a third, close on the right. The riders are shouting; all you can make out is "twisted forest". The horses break into a gallop. A grey shape darts in, snapping at your mount's feet. The horse skids to a halt, rearing and trumpeting in fury. The horse in front is still galloping, and the rope between them jerks tight, pulling your horse off balance. As the beast lurches sideways, you hear shouting ahead, and the rope sags. One of the riders swings his horse around to attack. A monstrous wolf-like form leaps at your face, snapping with wide many-fanged jaws. Hot fetid breath washes over you. Then it tumbles sideways, struck by the russet dog. At that moment your horse rears again, tangling its forefeet in the rope. You expect to crash to the ground, but the rider jumps from his saddle to slash the rope, and your horse gallops free, trailing the long line behind it. The other horse sidles and stamps, and you glimpse the man's face as he struggles to calm the animal. It's Andreas. He doesn't see the creature about to spring upon his back. [["Behind you!" ->warnAndreasWolf]] [[Say nothing. ->letWolfGetAndreas]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's will to it + 3) The angle is awkward, your neck aches and you feel like you're falling head-first into the path. (if: $success is true)[But this is your chance for freedom. You block from your mind every thought but the task before you, and just as your horse stumbles, you manage to grip the battered leather reins between your molars and yank. Somewhat to your surprise, the horse at once turns smoothly right. The sounds of battle fade as you gallop into dense brush. That was easy. Better yet, nobody seems to to be pursuing you -- for now. Your horse's back is hot, its sides soaked in sweat. The path grows narrower, winding down into a dank, bowl-like valley dense with ferns that cling and whip as you pass. The horse slows to a walk, sides heaving. [[Kick and hit the horse to make it run again.->kickHorse]] [[Pull on the reins to halt the horse so you can try to get off.->stopHorse]]](else:)[Pain and terror distract you. As you struggle to clench your molars upon the reins, your horse stumbles, and the reins slip free. A moment later, the turn-off is behind you. (display: "waitRansom")]

Hooves pound behind you as the riders once more break into a gallop with the creatures on their heels. Riders slash at the beasts as they gallop, and the great russet hound takes one by the throat. It falls with a scream of agony, and the others rush to its side, but the hound holds them back. The riders converge, slashing at the writhing knot. Abruptly, some signal passes between the pack, and they dissolve into the night; all but three, who lie broken on the path. You shiver, waiting for your heart to slow. The attack happened so fast, you can barely comprehend it. Had your horse fallen on you, your skull would have been crushed like a grape. The pale woman hooks your horse's bridle onto the pack-horses once more, then canters back to the front of the line. Riders talk quietly in serious voices as they trot onward. Two horses are missing, and you don't see Andreas. The minutes blur into hours, and every second the pounding of your bruises grows worse. You rest your head against the horse's flank and wriggle around to find a more comfortable position, but the discomfort soon resumes. The night grows darker, the moon shrouded in stormclouds, and a few cold raindrops strike your cheek. Your hands and feet are numb now. The hoofbeats ahead slow to a walk, and your horse does the same. Raising your head, you glimpse flickering orange lights between the trees. Voices echo from between the campfires. Your horse comes to a halt near its companions. They jostle eagerly around a net filled with hay hanging from a branch. Nobody approaches. Have the outlaws forgotten you? The big dog lies a few feet away, its deep chestnut coat gleaming in the firelight. It gnaws a large bone, glancing up now and then to gaze at you with huge amber eyes framed by drooping ears. [[Call for attention.]] [[Try to free yourself. ->breakFreeAtCamp]]

"Hello?" you call tentatively in the direction of the biggest campfire. "Haven't you people forgotten something?" (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) The rowdy group falls silent for a moment. Then the lovely pale woman, Nyora, says something soft that provokes a roar of laughter. She walks to your horse and starts to loosen your bonds. She's changed into a regal dress of pale green silk and a silvery headband set with crystals. "I do apologise, Your Highness." Her voice is as innocent as milk. "Whatever were we thinking, leaving you tied up like this? You could have been scrubbing pots for us." She offers you a hand as you slither off the horse's back. [[Take her hand. ->takeNyoraHand]] [[Ignore it. ->ignoreNyora]]

The horse gives you a reproachful look, then breaks into a desultory trot that tenderizes your bruises all over again. You suppose from the horse's point of view, that's perfectly fair. Suddenly its head rises, tossing wildly. It lets out a war-like snort and rears, sliding you backwards. A dim shape darts in near its feet, and as the horse's feet descend there's an agonized yelp. Whoever tied you across the horse's back did not anticipate rearing. As you slide back toward the horse's hips, the ropes loosen. The horse circles and kicks; several more creatures leap and snap at its throat and belly. The horse gives an unearthly shriek, tossing its head. Blood spatters your face. It rears again, then sidles backwards, stamping and kicking. [[Try to untie yourself and slide off the horse.->slideOffHorse]] [[Cling to the horse.->clingHorse]]

You drag the horse to a halt and struggle to work your hands loose. But the ropes are too tight; you can get no purchase on the knots. Suddenly the horse's head rises, tossing wildly. It lets out a war-like snort and rears, sliding you backwards. A dim shape darts in near its feet, and as the hooves descend there's an agonized yelp. Whoever tied you across the horse's back did not anticipate rearing. As you slide back toward the horse's hips, the ropes loosen. The horse circles and kicks; more creatures leap and snap at its throat and belly. The horse gives an unearthly shriek, tossing its head. Blood spatters your face. It rears again, then sidles backwards, stamping and kicking. [[Try to untie yourself and slide off the horse.->slideOffHorse]] [[Cling to the horse.->clingHorse]]

The slack in the ropes lets you catch the nearest knot and loosen it. As the horse retreats, snorting, you manage to free your wrist, leaving a lot of skin behind. You clutch at the horse's back as it rears again, screaming. There's a satisfying thud as hooves connect with bone, and when they descend, only two creatures are still attacking; the others have fled. They circle the horse warily. You tug at your bindings with your free hand. They're loosening, but before you can throw them off, the horse rears again. You grab at the beast's sweat-slick pelt as you fall backwards, but your hold is weak, and you slide over the horse's back end to land on your side behind its tail. You lie gasping, winded by the fall. Huge hooves stamp and churn the muddy path inches from your face. You scrabble away. The horse shakes its head and gallops off. (set: $nwolves to 2) The two beasts do not follow. They turn toward you, tongues lolling, yellow eyes avid. [[Look for a weapon.->getStick]] [[Put your back to a tree.->backToTree]] [[Run. ->runFromWolves]]

You cling desperately to the horse's back as it fights for its life. The creatures leap and flail at its flanks. You try to kick the horse into a gallop to outrun them, but the animal ignores you. Your horse stumbles. In a flash, the creatures are on it, ripping into its throat with a horrible squelching sound. Blood spurts black in the moonlight, and a terrible scream echoes through the night. The horse falls heavily on its side, kicking wildly; by sheer luck, it doesn't land on top of you. The fall has loosened the ropes. You barely manage to roll away from the flailing beast and free yourself before the creatures lunge again. But before they can secure the kill, the horse scrambles to its feet and gallops away, trailing blood. (set: $nwolves to 3) The beasts do not follow. They turn toward you, tongues lolling, yellow eyes avid. [[Run. ->runFromWolves]] [[Look for a weapon.->getStick]] [[Put your back to a tree.->backToTree]]

(set: $gotStick to 1)You snatch up a hefty branch and swing it at the creatures. (set: $data's fight to it + 1) (if: $backToTree is 0)[They are not unscathed from the battle with your horse: one is limping, holding a hind paw high, whilst another holds its monstrous head askew.] They back out of range of your swing, but they're still circling, one on each side of you so you can't keep your eyes on both. From the corner of your eye, you glimpse movement. You whip around. A creature is lunging at your calf. You swing your weapon downwards, smashing against its neck with satisfying force, and the creature yelps and staggers back. It shakes its head, scattering drops of black blood in the moonlight. (if: $backToTree is 0)[The creatures return to circling. [[Put your back to a tree.->backToTree]] ](else:)[[[Climb the tree.->climbTree]] ] [[(set: $difficulty to 7)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Attack. ->attackWolves]]

(set: $backToTree to 1)You scramble back against a tall oak. Now they can't come at you from behind. (if: $nwolves is 2)[You wave your (if: $gotStick is 1)[stick](else:)[fist] threateningly. The creatures stop circling. One lies down with its head on its paws; the other paces back and forth, whining. (if: $gotStick is 0)[Neither is unscathed from the battle with your horse: the standing one is limping, holding a hind paw high, whilst the other holds its monstrous head askew.] ](else:)[You wave your (if: $gotStick is 1)[stick](else:)[fist] threateningly. The creatures stop circling. One lies down with its head on its paws. The others pace back and forth, whining. (if: $gotStick is 0)[They are not unscathed: one limps, its hind paw held high, and the resting one holds its monstrous head askew.] ] Lemon-yellow eyes study impassively, and a tongue flickers toward you. It won't be long before impatience overcomes their anxiety. The branches of the oak hang low and sturdy. You could probably hoist yourself up. But can they climb trees? For the first time in your life, you wish you'd paid attention to your Natural History lessons. [[Climb the tree.->climbTree]] (if: $gotStick is 0)[[[Look for a weapon.->getStick]]](elseif:(history:) contains "attackWolves")[[[Attack again. ->attackWolvesAgain]]](else:)[[[(set: $difficulty to 7)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Attack. ->attackWolves]]]

Warily, you clamber onto the lowest branch of the oak. This excites them, but they can't follow. They leap at the trunk, yelping in frustration. You're not high enough to be safe; it's only a matter of time before they latch onto your ankle and drag you down. (set: $in_tree to true) [[Climb higher.->climbAgain]] [[Attack from above.->attackFromTree]]

You haven't had much experience with tree-climbing. As you clumsily hoist yourself from branch to branch, you envisage yourself tumbling down into the waiting jaws like a feast from heaven. At last you come to a fork where you can perch in the upper branches of the tree. The creatures, realizing their leaping and snapping is futile, lie down to wait. Now that you are not fighting for survival, the torment of your body returns full force. Every inch of your torso is covered with bruises, and your hands are numb and raw from the burn of the rope. You wonder how long you can last up here. Drowsiness creeps over you. Clearly, the creatures are confident that you will soon tumble down, and you suspect they are right. Perhaps you had better face them on the ground rather than wait until your limbs fail. But even as you think that, they rise and trot away into the darkness. You sit in the dark, cold tree. All is silent. [[Climb down from the tree. ->climbDownTree]] [[Stay in the tree for now. ->waitInTreeAgain]]

(if: $gotStick is 1)[You ready your stick. The next time a creature leaps, you slash downwards. With a satisfying crack, you strike the beast's skull. It drops like a stone. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) (if: $nwolves is 2)[Now there's only one. It sits back on its haunches, staring up at you, and occasionally licking its paw with a faint whine. You stare back. (set: $nwolves to 1) [[Goad the creature.->goadWolf]] [[Wait.->waitInTree]]](else:)[The two remaining creatures sit back on their haunches, staring up at you. One occasionally licks its paw, whining softly. You stare back. (set: $nwolves to 2) [[Goad the creatures.->goadWolf]] [[Wait.->waitInTree]]] ](else:)[The next time a creature leaps, you lash out with a tremendous kick. It's a foolhardy move; so much so, that the creature apparently doesn't expect it. Your foot slams into the bones of its massive jaw, and the beast drops with a yelp. You yelp too, as pain strikes like lightning up your calf and the force of your kick sends you tumbling forward. Overbalancing, you clutch at the nearest branch, but it cracks under your weight, and then you are falling. Pain explodes through your spine as you strike the earth. You gasp, thrusting your hands beneath you to stand, ignoring the agony of your shattered foot. (display: "keepRunningWolves")]

(if: $nwolves is 1)[You (if: $gotStick is 1)[wave your stick and ] yell at the remaining creature.(set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) "Oh, you want some of this? What, are you scared? Looks like your mama was a chihuahua!" Your voice sounds thin and awkward. The creature puts its head on one side. "Come on, come on! What are you waiting for, bitch?" The creature sighs, turns and trots away into the forest. Something in its body language conveys haughty contempt. You wait. Is it really gone? All is silent.] (else:)[You (if: $gotStick is 1)[wave your stick and ] yell at the remaining creatures. "Oh, you want some of this? What, are you scared? Looks like your mama was a chihuahua!" Your voice sounds thin and awkward. The bigger one puts its head on one side. "Come on, come on! What are you waiting for?" The creature sighs, turns and trots away into the forest. With a backward glance at you, its companion follows. Something in its body language conveys haughty contempt. You wait. Are they really gone? All is silent.] [[Climb down from the tree. ->climbDownTree]] [[Stay in the tree for now. ->waitInTreeAgain]]

You sit in the branches of the tree, panting. The creature below sits back on its haunches, maw open and huge eyes fixed upon you. Does it feel angry, or sad, that the rest of its pack is dead? After a while, it stands up and nuzzles tentatively at the other creature's unmoving form. A brief opening in the clouds lets moonlight penetrate, reveals black blood pooling around the beast's head. The surviving creature turns and trots away into the darkness, head lowered. You wait, wondering if it is really gone, but all is silent in the forest. [[Climb down from the tree. ->climbDownTree]] [[Stay in the tree for now. ->waitInTreeAgain]]

You wriggle in your bonds. Now that the horse isn't moving, there's slack in the rope binding your left hand. By working it back and forth, you're eventually able to slide it around the saddle, loosening it until you can slip your wrist out, though you leave some skin behind. With your free hand, you tug loose the other knots, enabling you to slither down the horse's side. You stagger, numb with cold and stillness, then the maddening pain of crushed nerves reviving hits you. Flexing is agony, and you clench your teeth to avoid cursing. "Ah, Your Highness, I must apologise." Nyora's voice is innocent as milk. She's changed into a regal dress of pale green silk and a silvery headband set with crystals. A jewelled dagger hangs at her side. "Whatever were we thinking, leaving you tied up alone? You could have been scrubbing pots for us." You stumble backwards as she approaches, unnerved by her glacial stare. Your leg strikes a fallen branch; as you flounder, off-balance, the muscles spasm and pain lances; you collapse. She puts her head on one side, smiling gently as you writhe in the mulch. You struggle to your feet. Just as you regain your balance, something trips you, and you slide to the ground again. The bandits gathered by the campfire roar with laughter. Nyora's expression is bland. "Dear me, aren't we clumsy tonight?" [["Very funny." ->mockNyora]] [[Slap the woman. ->hitNyora]] [["Great, I've been abducted by pre-schoolers." ->mockNyora]]

You hold out your fist. (set: $data's charm to it + 1) (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) The dog advances, sniffs your hand and offers a cursory lick. He is an elegant-looking creature, long-legged and droopy-eared. His short glossy coat is tinted red-gold, like an oak in autumn, and his eyes have the liquid warmth of amber. You scratch his silken ears, and he sighs contentedly. He wears a magnificent collar of gilded leather. The word PRINCE is engraved upon a golden tag. Prince sits politely and raises a paw, as if offering to shake hands. [[Shake hands. ->shakeHandsPrince]] [["Aww, what a handsome prince you are! Goo' boy, Prince!" ->petPrince]]

"Err... good doggie, nice doggie," you say. His steady amber stare is unnerving. He seems to understand your discomfort, for he lies down on the ground and wags his tail, as if inviting you to play. [[Put out your hand. ->offerHandDog]] [["Sorry, dog, I kind of need to be going now." ->tryEscapeCamp]]

You bend to accept the proffered paw and shake it gently. As you start to straighten, (display: "PrinceLicks")

A fleeting expression of disgust crosses the dog's features. Then, (display: "PrinceLicks")

(set: $humanGervain to 1)without warning, Prince leaps up and licks you slimily in your open mouth. In the split-second before you can react, he yelps, and bolts into the trees with his tail between his legs. You stare after him furiously, and spend the next few minutes spitting hair and dog saliva into the dirt. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) The circle gathered around the fire has grown rowdier, passing a flagon and chanting a popular song. One man is feeding the horses.(if: $swore is 1)[ You hesitate. You *did* ...kind of... swear you wouldn't run away. But a promise made under duress holds no force. Right?] [[Sneak away into the forest. ->sneakAway]] (if: not ((history:) contains "lookAroundCamp"))[[[Look around camp. ->lookAroundCamp]]](elseif: not ((history:) contains "peekInTent"))[[[Peek inside a tent. ->peekInTent]]] (else:)[[[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]]

You move toward the bushes, but the dog gives a low woof; not threatening, but clearly warning you against moving forward. [[Put out your hand. ->offerHandDog]] (if: not ((history:) contains "lookAroundCamp"))[[[Look around camp. ->lookAroundCamp]]](elseif: not ((history:) contains "peekInTent"))[[[Peek inside a tent. ->peekInTent]]](else:)[[[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]]

You reach gratefully for the proferred hand and slither earthward. Just as you lean your weight upon her hand, Nyora neatly twists her hand from your grasp. You slam to the ground and roll; luckily, it's soft forest loam, coated in a generous layer of fallen leaves, hay and fragrant manure, so only your dignity is harmed. As you stretch numb limbs, crushed nerves start to reawaken. You clench your teeth to suppress a groan. (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) Nyora looks down at you, an expression of perfect contrition on her exquisite features. "So sorry, dear. What an unfortunate accident." She holds out her hand again. [[Take her hand. ->takeNyoraHand2]] [[Ignore her. ->standUpNyora]]

You ignore the proferred hand, though as you drop to the ground you land awkwardly and stumble sideways, unprepared for the numbness in your limbs. A moment later, the pain of crushed nerves reawakening hits; you crumple to the earth, suppressing a not-very-regal squawk. Nyora watches you squirm, one eyebrow raised. Another affectation. She can hardly be surprised at your state. You struggle to your feet. Just as you regain your balance, something trips you, and you slide to the ground again. The bandits gathered by the campfire roar with laughter. Nyora's expression is bland. "Dear me, aren't we clumsy tonight?" [[Slap her. ->hitNyora]] [["Great, I've been abducted by preschoolers." ->mockNyora]]

This time, you grip Nyora's hand hard around the wrist, so that she can't easily twist away. Her eyes widen slightly; she lets you stand. But as you release her wrist, she shoves you hard. You fall on your backside, and laughter echoes around the camp. (set: $data's fight to it + 1) (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) [[Slap Nyora. ->hitNyora]] [["Great, I've been abducted by preschoolers." ->mockNyora]]

You creep away between the trees, at first moving slowly, then breaking into a run. The undergrowth is thick; dead leaves and branches crack beneath your feet, but you hope the rowdy party at camp won't notice. (set: $data's metM to 1)(if: $swore is 1)[(set: $data's deceive to it + 10)] The wind has carried away the storm-clouds. Frost-bright stars glimmer between the summer branches, illuminating a narrow foot-path winding downward through an oaken glade. As you start to let yourself believe that you've eluded pursuit, other fears begin to crowd your mind. You've never been out alone at night before. Monsters seem to lurk in every shadow. Some night creature flitters past your face, uttering a small, shrill cry; you almost scream. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you catch a glint of starlight ahead, shimmering at ground level. A pool of water. Upon a mossy boulder, a young man kneels, gazing at his reflection. He is stark naked. He seems utterly absorbed in watching himself, staring down into the water, entirely motionless. Leaves and twigs are caught in his hair. If you did not see his breath steam on the chill air, you would think he was a statue. [["Hello?" ->helloGervain]] [[Say nothing and keep moving. ->ignoreGervain]]

You've never spent much time around horses, since your father deemed it unladylike. And these particular horses seem large and rough-mannered, not at all like the gentle white palfrey you occasionally ride at home. (set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) You gather your courage and tug at the bridle of a silvery mare whose nose is buried deep in the oats. She puts her ears back and pulls away from you with a huffing snort, evidently reluctant to leave her dinner. You glance around fearfully, but the outlaws gathered by the fire are singing rowdily and notice nothing. You tug harder, but the mare stomps her feet and whinnies shrilly. Losing patience, you drag on the bridle. She sidles and tosses her head, still resisting. Somehow, you get one foot into a swaying stirrup and launch into the saddle, desperately kicking the mare's sides with your soft slippers. She starts to walk at last, and then launches into a reluctant trot. But as you reach the edge of the camp, someone whistles. At once, the mare circles back toward the fire, ignoring your kicking and pulling. "Leaving so soon, Highness?" The pale woman, Nyora, stands with folded arms. She's smiling at you. The mare halts before her, nuzzling at her hand. [["Umm, no, I was just looking around." ->justLookingNyora]] [[Say nothing. ->sayNothingNyora]] (if: $sword is 1)[[[Attack Nyora with your sword.->attackNyoraWithSword]]]

You struggle to your feet. Just as you regain your balance, something trips you, and you slide to the ground again. The bandits gathered by the campfire roar with laughter. Nyora stands over you, her expression bland. "Dear me, aren't we clumsy tonight?" [[Slap her. ->hitNyora]] [["Great, I've been abducted by preschoolers." ->mockNyora]]

Nyora laughs softly. "Oh, Your Highness," she says sweetly, "was that meant to hurt my feelings?"(set: $data's likesN to it + 1) She walks around you, gazing down at you as you sway unsteadily on your buzzing limbs. Her eyes seem innocent, but there's a twist of contempt in her pretty lips. (display: "DogRescueNyora")

Warily, you clamber to your feet. Your nerves are still buzzing like electric wires, and you can't help swaying. Nyora gives you an amused glance. (set: $data's fight to it + 1) "Not very bright, are we?" This time, you see her kick coming. You lurch aside, as clumsily as a drunk, and while she's still off-balance, you swing at her. Her mouth drops open in shock as your fist strikes her cheekbone. She hisses at you like a cat, and reaches up to touch the reddening mark. (display: "DogRescueNyora")

(set: $data's charm to it + 1)(set: $data's likesA to $data's likesA + 1)(set: $data's warnedA to 1)Andreas turns a split-second before the grey body slams into him. He falls. (display: "wolfGetsAndreas")

The grey body slams into Andreas from behind; he drops like a stone. (set: $data's likesA to $data's likesA - 1) (display: "wolfGetsAndreas")

At once others swarm over him. Your horse gallops past, among riders slashing at monsters and struggling with panicked mounts. The russet hound leaps into the fray, snarling and snapping; you pass them in a blur. Nobody has noticed that your horse is free. If you can just work loose your hands... But whoever tied them has done a thorough job. Your feet are even less promising. By wriggling your head around, you catch the reins in your teeth. Perhaps a sharp tug would convince your steed to swerve. Ahead, the road forks. The main branch continues left. To the right, a narrow path descends into a dark, tangled tunnel of overhanging branches. The trees look contorted, as if writhing in pain. [[(set: $difficulty to 4)(set: $skill_name to "Will")(display: "makeDice"): Flee right, into the depths of the twisted forest.->pullRight]] [[Continue left.->waitRansom]]

Her eyes narrow, and she pounces with a push that looks feather-light, but hits you with the force of a sledgehammer. You tumble on your back; as you try to roll, a foot pins your throat. She's staring down at you, her eyes blazing and teeth bared in fury. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) Then she smiles, and her face smooths again. Still smiling, she starts to press her foot downward. A dog barks, loud and sharp. Something brown strikes Nyora from the side, and she emits a shrill curse, knocked off balance. You scramble to your feet and back away. Between you and her stands the russet hound, hackles up, and lips peeled back in a snarl. The beast is glaring at the blonde woman, amber eyes ablaze. She reaches for her dagger. "Fucking mongrel. Get out of my way!" The dog stands its ground, still barking. She slashes at it with an angry yell, but the dog gracefully evades the blow. "Nyora!" For the first time in your life, you're relieved to hear Andreas's voice. "What?" she snaps. Andreas limps toward you. "What's going on? We need her alive!" "Sweetheart, you mustn't worry so!" Nyora sounds slightly guilty. "Her Highness and I were just getting acquainted." Andreas's shoulder (if: $data's warnedA is 1)[is](else:)[and head are] bandaged, and he moves awkwardly, but his dark eyes are lively as ever as he lifts you to your feet. He keeps his voice low: (if: $data's warnedA is 1)["My thanks, Princess. Your warning back there may have saved my life."] Nyora's mouth turns hard, though her voice is still playful. "So noble of you to assist the maiden in distress." Andreas's hand tightens on your shoulder. "She's still a human being, Ny. And likely also the future Queen. Do you really want to give her a personal reason to hate us?" Nyora's tone remains sweet and light as thistledown. "Why, I didn't know you were so fond of royalty." She tugs gently at his hand, pulling him to face her and gazing up into his eyes. "Do I need a tiara to keep your attention now, Andreas?" The tension melts from his stance as he meets those wide blue eyes. You can't blame him. She looks as harmless as a kitten. He leans down to lightly kiss her coral lips. "Every star in the sky is your crown, Nyora," he murmurs. As he looks up, his eyes meet yours over her shoulder. A grimace flashes across his features, vanishing before he turns back to her. "Go rest. I'll deal with the prisoner." Her eyes narrow with calculation as she glances back at you. Andreas whispers something in her ear; she smiles and nods. "Very well, Andreas. I'll leave you to your toy." Andreas watches her until she returns to the fire. Then he looks to you, his expression unreadable. As you stare at him, the fury you've buried within yourself wells up. All of this is his fault. Your body wants to shake with rage. but you make yourself hard and cold as steel. (display: "knowForest")

He smiles. "Highness. You are alone among enemies, with no hope of rescue. If I were planning to ravish you, don't you think I'd have done it already?" [["But how do I know I can trust you?" ->AndreasKeepPromise]] [["Okay." ->goAndreasTent]]

Andreas smiles, gesturing for you to walk ahead of him to a large, round tent. Golden lamplight spills from the doorway. ----- (display: "skills") <script>window.StrayHeirs.createChapter(4)</script>(print: "<a href=\"ch4.html\">Chapter 4</a>") (print: "<a href=\"index.html\">Go to Contents Page</a>")

His smile widens into a broad grin, two parts good nature, one part predator. He moves closer, making your heart pound. "Good point," he purrs. "You don't. I am, after all, a scoundrel, a ruffian, and an outlaw. Clearly not somebody you should ever trust." (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) Then he shrugs. "But I *did* fight off a pack of monsters already tonight. Right now, I can barely walk, let alone ravish anybody. And you are hungry, aren't you?" Seeing your expression, he snorts. "Fine, stay here." He starts to limp away, adding: "I still don't recommend you try to escape, Highness. If you fail, Nyora will have an excuse to play with you, and you wouldn't like her favourite games. And if you succeed, you'll end up dead in the Twisted Forest." [[Stay where you are. ->refuseAndreasTentAgain]] [[Follow Andreas to his tent. ->goAndreasTent]]

Andreas limps into a large tent on the far side of camp. Warm lamplight glimmers within, and your stomach clamours for attention. But you steel yourself against it. Even if you personally believed Andreas's assurances, a princess simply cannot follow an outlaw into his tent. It would be unconscionable. (if: $humanGervain is 0)[You chew your lip and stare around you. That's when you notice the large russet dog lying nearby with a bone between his front paws. Has he been there the whole time? He raises his head and thumps his feathery tail against the ground. [[Put out your hand. ->offerHandDog]] (if: not ((history:) contains "backAwayDog"))[[[Back away. ->backAwayDog]]](else:)[[[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]]](else:)[(if: not ((history:) contains "sneakAway"))[You fold your arms against the night chill, contemplating your options. Nobody guards you, in fact, you are ignored. Was Andreas telling the truth? There *are* dark rumours of the creatures that dwell in the Twisted Forest. On the other hand, perhaps he was bluffing. You glance toward the horses. Perhaps you might steal one and gallop away. But one of the outlaws is rubbing them down. He's taking his time, stroking their ears and talking to them as he brushes their mud-caked hides. [[Sneak away into the forest. ->sneakAway]] ](else:)[[[Steal a horse and gallop away. ->gallopAway]] ][[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]]

She nods, a smile on her lovely pink-ice lips. "Oh, I'm sure. However, our poor horses need to rest, so I expect you'll want to dismount now." You don't move. "Right now," she adds, softly and sweetly. "Or I'll eviscerate you." [[Dismount. ->dismountNyora]] [["You wouldn't do that. Andreas wants me alive." ->defyNyora]]

Her pale eyes narrow as she stares at you. "Our poor horses need to rest, so I expect you'll want to dismount now." You don't move. "Right now," she adds, softly and sweetly. "Or I'll eviscerate you." [[Dismount. ->dismountNyora]] [["You wouldn't do that. Andreas wants me alive." ->defyNyora]]

You slide obediently, if rather gracelessly, off the horse's back. Nyora watches you with a cold smile. (display: "offHorseNyora")

Nyora's nostrils tighten, but her voice remains sweet. "And why exactly do you think I would care what Andreas wants?" She says the name with a sneer. (set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1)(set: $data's likesA to it + 1) [["He is your leader, isn't he?" ->AndreasLeader]] [["I'm the Crown Princess. You'd have to be crazy to kill me instead of ransoming me." ->valuableHostage]]

"Ha!" Nyora gives a derisive snort. "You high-born women are all such fawning slaves. It never even occurred to you that a woman might lead, did it?" (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) [["Oh, sorry. My mistake." ->sorryNyora]] [["A woman? Sure. You? Not likely." ->provokeNyora]]

She chuckles. "You underrate the pleasure I'd get from watching you die, Highness. Now, get off the horse!" (set: $data's deceive to $data's deceive + 1) [["No." ->provokeNyora]] [["Okay." ->dismountNyora]]

Nyora gestures. At once, your horse rears. You clutch desperately at the saddle, but the slick leather eludes your grasp and you are dumped unceremoniously on the soft turf. You struggle to your feet, wiping away mud. (set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) The woman watches you with interest. (display: "offHorseNyora")

Her pretty mouth turns downward in a sneer. "Now, get off the horse!" she snaps. (set: $data's charm to it + 1) [[Dismount. ->dismountNyora]] [[Stay put. ->provokeNyora]]

The man leaps up, staring around wildly, and bolts into the woods, moving on all fours like a gorilla. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) You stare after him, but in a moment, all is still, as if you had imagined him. (display:"meetChildren")

You sneak away, leaving the naked man to his introspection. (display:"meetChildren")

As you move downhill, the path becomes narrower and more overgrown; several times, you stumble off it and have to backtrack. After a time, you're not sure if you are even following a path; perhaps it's merely a deer-track, or a dried-up stream. And if it is a path, you have no idea where it might lead. Grimly, you keep walking, ignoring the ache in your muscles and the blisters rising on your soft feet. The wind sounds like far-off laughter. The night seems to be growing darker, and it's definitely colder. You shiver, clutching the thin fabric of your nightgown. [[Something rustles in the leaves ahead. ->rustle]]

The bandits are still absorbed in revelry, apart from one who is grooming the horses. They don't even look up from the campfire as you explore the camp. You count twelve tents in all, some big enough for several men. They range from simple triangles to spacious pavilions with a central smokehole. Though impermanent, you suspect the camp has been occupied for some time, for the paths between tents are well-worn, and the firepits are dug deep and edged in stone. You creep closer to the central fire to eavesdrop, but catch only raucous songs and crude jokes. If you wish to discover more of these outlaws' plans, it seems you must look inside a tent. On the other hand, you will likely never get a better chance to flee. (if: $humanGervain is 0)[[[Try to persuade the russet dog to let you leave. ->offerHandDog]]](else:)[[[Sneak away into the forest. ->sneakAway]]] [[Peek inside a tent. ->peekInTent]]

Moving slowly and indirectly, you make for the largest and most ornate tent. A dim glow emanates from within, but no sound. Crouching out of sight of the revellers by the bonfire, you put your eye to a chink in the leather wall. All is still, but for the dim flickering of a small lantern that hangs above a writing desk. The furnishings are luxurious, from the patterned carpets lining the floor to the silken drapes that billow round the ceiling. In one corner, you catch the gleam of metal from a weapons rack; by the fur-covered bed hang a rainbow of satiny gowns. Silently, you slip between the flaps. [[Examine the desk. ->examineDesk]] [[Examine the weapons. ->ignoreLetter]] [[Examine the gowns. ->stealClothes]]

*Dearest Lady Nyora, How delightful to hear from you at last! I understand that the item I requested has been secured undamaged. Please ensure that it remains in its original condition. The ritual I have in mind is quite specific in this regard. As agreed, 4,000 gold drachets shall be yours upon delivery. I have no doubt you will make good use of them, as we discussed previously. In the meantime, please accept this beryl as a small token of my regard. Its colour reminded me of your eyes. (set: $data's sawLetter to 1) With warmest regards, The Sorcerer of Caer Goroduin* You stare around the tent, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Can it be true? You knew their plans would be villainous. But somehow, it didn't seem real until now. Had the outlaws truly promised you to the Sorcerer already? Did they even try to ransom you to your father? Did Andreas lie? You're not going home. Your stomach clenches. But you can't afford to panic. You steel your nerves and force your breathing to slow. (display: "ignoreLetter")

Nyora smiles. Her teeth are like small, sharp pearls in a rosebud. "Indeed. Nobody likes having their boundaries violated. My boundaries include my tent, my sword, my gowns, and my --" (display:"AndreasRescueTent")

Nyora smiles, but her eyes bulge slightly. Her teeth are like small, sharp pearls in a rosebud. "Oh, but I've barely started --" (display:"AndreasRescueTent")

The hard line of Andreas's mouth twitches and you realise abruptly that his stern expression is suppressing something entirely different. "If you weren't a Princess," he mutters darkly, pushing you ahead of him. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) He doesn't finish that sentence. "Come, Highness. I've a hot bath in my tent, and meat and drink." You hesitate. His gaze seems frank, and the thought of food is nigh irresistible. But the thought of willingly accompanying your kidnapper repels you. Especially considering the way your body responds to his glance. You don't want to admit it, but just seeing him makes something in you melt, and you're not sure you can trust yourself to resist him for long. And you suspect that there's more than altruism behind his offer. Seeing your sceptical expression, he adds, "Would it help if I promised to fully respect your person, Highness?" (set: $respectPerson to 1) [["How do I know you'll keep your promise?" ->AndreasKeepPromise]] [["Thanks, but I'd prefer to stay here." ->refuseAndreasTent]] [["Okay." ->goAndreasTent]]

You swing it through the air, feeling the rush of wind past the blade. You swing again, slashing at the tassel of a silk gown. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) You gasp when the tassel tumbles silently to earth. There's something almost magical about the clean, instantaneous severence created by the razor-sharp blade. Imagine how it would feel to lop the head off an enemy! You aim for the gown itself; thrillingly, its lower half slithers neatly to the floor. You can't recall the last time you felt so powerful. As you stand admiring your handiwork, (display:"NyoraArrivesTent")

Regretfully, you sheath the delicate blade. The scabbard hangs from a belt of fine white leather, embroidered with leaping stags. You start to buckle it around your torn and soiled nightdress, grimacing. Even if it weren't ruined, your gown is hardly practical attire for hiking. You glance longingly at the gowns and trousers hanging by the bed. [[Steal some clothes. ->stealClothes]] [[Forget it! Run while you can! ->fleeWithSword]]

The Lady Nyora, whatever else one may say of her, has excellent fashion sense. The gowns are as fine as any in your wardrobe. You try to force yourself to be practical, turning to a tunic and leggings of soft doeskin. You could run and fight in that. But behind it, you glimpse a fitted gown whose bodice shimmers with crystals. Imagine wearing that to one of your father's balls. Wouldn't it make Rain blush and stammer? The satin cascades soft as water between your fingers. [[Steal the satin gown. ->putOnStolenClothes]] [[Steal the doeskin tunic. ->putOnStolenClothes]]

(set: $sword to 1)You give the clothes rack one last, wistful look before you leave the tent. Outside, the chill raises goosebumps on your arms and thighs. You glance toward the fire; the party is still going strong. The pale woman, Nyora, sits laughing with the men, holding a foaming mug in one slender white hand. (if:$humanGervain is 0)[The russet dog pads over and stands before you, head cocked and amber eyes fixed upon yours. His tail moves slowly from side to side as if he's not entirely certain how to wag it. [[Try to persuade the dog to let you leave. ->offerHandDog]] [[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]](elseif: not ((history:) contains "sneakAway"))[(display: "sneakAway")](else:)[[[Perhaps if you are quick enough, you can steal a horse and gallop away. ->gallopAway]] [[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]]

(set: $data's likesR to $data's likesR + 1)Your soiled nightgown tumbles to the floor. Ugh. But as you lift the fresh clothing from the rack, (display:"NyoraArrivesTent")

pain explodes in the back of your head. You reel, caught in black starbursts of agony. When they clear, you're on your knees, and (if: $touchsword is 1)[the blade you just held is now pressed](else:)[cold steel presses] against your throat. Someone is holding you from behind. Cold fire flickers in Nyora's ice-blue eyes as she stares down at you, her pretty forehead lightly creased. "Tsk, tsk. I think we need to have a little chat about boundaries." She pushes the blade harder. Blood trickles down. "That, you see, is an example of a boundary being violated. You didn't like it, did you?" [["No, I didn't." ->noIDidnt]] [["Okay, I get the analogy, now can we put the sword away?" ->gotTheAnalogy]]

The sword zings splendidly as it slides from the sheath, and firelight shimmers upon the blade as you slash wildly at Nyora's head. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) Something stings your wrist. The blade flies away as you hit the soft turf with a thud. Nyora stands over your body, gazing down at you with cat-like intrigue. She lets you struggle to your feet. (set: $sword to 0) (display: "offHorseNyora")

"True." He gives the dog a sidelong glance, frowning slightly. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1)(display:"accompanyToCamp")

Andreas shrugs. "I put little store in rumours, Highness. And as for my intent..." he hesitates, eyes narrowed - "Let's speak of this over dinner." (display:"accompanyToCamp")

(if: $in_tree is true)[Andreas's hand clasps yours tight as you slither down onto the horse's back.](else:)[Andreas lifts you gently to the horse's back.] You briefly consider galloping away, but his other hand is firmly wrapped around the bridle. He vaults up behind you with a lightness that belies his injuries, and with a touch of his heels the horse breaks into a trot. He's holding the reins from behind you; in his wounded state, perhaps you could push him off backwards and claim the horse for yourself. On the other hand, you're not in tip-top shape either, what with being exhausted, bruised and half-frozen (if: $arm is 1)[- not to mention wounded]. Do you really want to be alone in the Twisted Forest in that condition? [[Try to push him off the horse. ->pushAndreasOffHorse]] [[Let him take you. ->rideCampAndreas]]

You pick your moment carefully. Andreas is clearly at ease on the horse and keeps the reins loose, one arm clasped lightly around your body while the other guides the beast. His chest warms your back; he seems relaxed and unwary.(set: $data's fight to it + 1) (set: $data's likesA to it + 2) With all the force you can muster, you shove your elbow into his stomach, using your other hand to throw off his arm and wrest the reins from his grasp. Andreas grunts in surprise, swaying backward precariously, but he doesn't fall, and as you fight for the reins he wraps you tight, trapping your arms, then tugs the reins from your grasp. "You do like to keep things interesting, don't you, Highness?" His voice is somewhere between a growl and a purr. Pressed against his chest, his amusement is palpable through your nightgown. You bite your tongue to keep from answering. His smugness is insufferable, but needling him just seems to enhance it. (display: "rideCampAndreas")

Andreas says nothing more as you ride through the darkness. His chest is warm against your back, and the musky scent of his body makes you shiver with pleasure. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) No, not pleasure. Hatred. You hate him. Why is that so hard to remember? In any case, there's nothing you can do about it right now, so you might as well enjoy the sensation. You grow sleepy with the rhythmic motion, and when the horse slows to a walk you jolt upright. Golden light flickers in the darkness ahead: torches and bonfires. You glimpse shadowy tents and figures moving. Andreas slips from the horse's back and leads it to a manger. You slide down as well, glad to touch solid ground. The russet hound trots to an extinguished firepit, retrieves a large bone, and lies down to gnaw upon it. Ignoring you, Andreas removes the horse's saddle and starts to rub her down with a wiry brush. The horse huffs appreciatively. You chew your lip. This is hardly an appropriate way to treat a royal guest, but when has Andreas been appropriate? As you start to sidle away, Andreas glances up again. (display: "knowForest")

You wave your hands in front of you to brush aside the sticky strands. But they don't come loose as you expect. Instead, they writhe and cling to your hands. Instinctively, you try to wipe them away on your nightgown. Now your hands are stuck to your gown. You (if: $sword is 1)[reach for your blade](else:)[pull away], but the elastic strands tug you back as if alive. (display:"childrenAttack")

You try to go around the web, but it's entangled in the bushes all around. Strands are descending across the path behind you, as well. (display: "brushWeb")

Your words seem to excite them further. A whispered conference rustles the leaves, but the words -- if they are words -- are incomprehensible. (display:"waitChildren")

After a few moments, the creatures gradually descend again. One strokes your hair. Another meets your eyes with curiosity, then pokes a tiny finger into your eye. You wince; the creature giggles. Though they have removed the webbing around your face, your body is still immovably bound. The creatures grow bolder. One hops onto your chest and pinches you sharply. You yell; again they jump back, but return after a moment. Another starts to play with your hand, first stroking the forefinger to release it from the strands, then putting it in its mouth. Tiny, sharp teeth nip. Contentedly, the creature curls upon your belly, sucking your finger. Somewhere beyond your panic and revulsion, a half-forgotten memory tugs at your consciousness. [[Beg for mercy. ->begMercyNephilae]] [[Yell furiously. ->begMercyNephilae]] [[(set: $difficulty to 14)(set: $skill_name to "Will")(display: "makeDice"): Try to remember. ->calmDown]]

(if: $beatneph is not 1)["Ah, have you not heard the stories of the Nephilae? Then I can see why you were so easily snared." You do remember your old nurse telling you creepy stories of spider-like creatures that would trap and devour lost travellers. But in all the stories, you could escape them by singing nursery rhymes, which never seemed very plausible. (if: not ((history:) contains "howDestroyWeb"))[[["How did you destroy the web? Was that... magic?" ->howDestroyWeb]] ]](else:)["The Nephilae? You have surely heard tales of them, or you could not have fended them off until I arrived." You wonder if you should admit that your source of information was your Nurse's old book of fairytales. ](if: not ((history:) contains "whoGervain"))[[["Might I know your name, stranger?" ->whoGervain]] ][["Kind sir, you have shown great courage. My father shall reward you richly. Will you not accompany me to my father's palace?"->goCastlePlease]]

The stranger smiles and bows. "Your Highness," he says, "it is my honour to assist thee." (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) (if: not ((history:) contains "whatChildren"))[[["What were those things?" ->whatChildren]]](elseif: not ((history:) contains "howDestroyWeb"))[(if: $beatneph is not 1)[[["How did you destroy the web? Was that... magic?" ->howDestroyWeb]]]](else:)[[["I beg you, honourable sir. Will you not assist a maiden in distress and return me to my father's castle?" ->goCastlePlease]]] [["Kind sir, you have shown great courage. My father shall reward you richly. Will you not accompany me to my father's palace?"->goCastlePlease]] (if: not ((history:) contains "whoGervain"))[[["Might I know your name, brave stranger?" ->whoGervain]]]

He shakes his head ruefully. "That, my lady, I regret I must deny. I would not lie to thee, yet the truth would serve us both ill." (if: not ((history:) contains "whatChildren"))[[["What were those things?" ->whatChildren]] ](elseif: not ((history:) contains "howDestroyWeb"))[(if: $beatneph is not 1)[[["How did you destroy the web? Was that... magic?" ->howDestroyWeb]] ]][["Kind sir, you have shown great courage. My father shall reward you richly. Will you not accompany me to my father's palace?"->goCastlePlease]]

He smiles. "No, not true magic. I've no more gift for that than most mortals. The weakness of the Nephilae springs from their strength. They are telepaths who feed upon human fear, and as the victim's terror grows, so grows the web. But one who fears them not can take that power and turn it back upon them. The glow you saw was merely a reaction to my fearless fury, the conflagration of the construct they were building from your dread. Singing will often achieve the same effect, even for a novice." (if: not ((history:) contains "calmDownAgain"))[Mentally, you swear you will never again ignore advice just because it came from Nurse's fairy tales. ][["Kind sir, you have shown great courage. My father shall reward you richly. Will you not accompany me to my father's palace?"->goCastlePlease]] (if: not ((history:) contains "whoGervain"))[[["Might I know your name, brave stranger?" ->whoGervain]]]

"Highness, I beg you, judge me not until you know my reasons better. One day, I hope, I may confess them openly. But today is not that day." (set: $data's strangeIdeaHonor to 1) You hesitate. The stranger seems as trustworthy a person as you are likely to meet in a Twisted Forest. And even if he is lying, your options are few. The thought of being left alone here chills your blood. "Come, Highness. Far worse things than Nephilae dwell in the Twisted Forest. Most cannot be defeated with a rhyme, and we are weary and far from help." [["Never! I would rather risk the Forest alone than return to those vile criminals!" ->goOnAlone]] [["Very well, let us return to camp." ->returnToCamp]]

The naked stranger takes your arm, as if you are a couple out for a Sunday stroll, and you walk back down the path together in the moonlight. It's a long, cold walk. Several times, the stranger stops to sniff the air, and then leads you into the bushes. Each time, you emerge back onto the path soon; it seems he can smell shortcuts. [[At last there's a flicker of torchlight in the distance. ->arriveBackAtCamp]]

"Forgive me, Highness." The stranger's expression turns sombre. "This must seem ignoble, I know. But truly, I have not the liberty to help you as I would like. The night is short, and the Forest is long. I can only return you to the outlaws' camp; let me tell you plainly, I know no other way to save your life. And my honour depends upon it." [["Your honour depends upon assisting in a kidnapping? You have a strange idea of honour, sir!" ->strangeHonour]] [["Then our ways must part. I would rather risk the Forest alone than return to those vile criminals!" ->goOnAlone]]

You make your way toward the roaring bonfire. The outlaws are very drunk, and as you approach, a heated argument breaks out. Nyora's voice is shrill. "And why should that matter?" You don't catch the reply, but her retort is clear: "Not necessarily. Dynasties do not last forever. She's the last of her line, and Saragai is hungry for vengeance." The warmth of the fire melts the tension in your limbs. You struggle to focus on the conversation. Another raised voice. "That kind o' thinkin' leads to war, Nyora!" The speaker is a scrawny man, who wears an odd peaked hat. "Precisely!" Nyora's tone is satisfied. "War ain't good for nobody!" retorts the scrawny man. "No? D'you truly believe that, Norvidge? D'you see nothing of what I've worked for, in all these years of exile?" "Eh! We all know your thirst, Nyora. But that don't mean we all agree to sate it." "And why not, pray? Do you not value freedom? I don't know about you, Norvidge, but I've yet to see a royal I'd bend to." "What, not even Prince Morael of Saragai?" This provokes a burst of laughter. "Don't every woman dream --" "Every woman but me, perhaps. I do not care for redheads, and I care still less for princes. Or princesses." Amid the laughter, your eyes meet Nyora's. You look away at once. Too late. The ice-eyed bandit rises and shimmies languidly to your side. "Well, if it ain't the scullery maid," she says, slurring a little. "Don't come to the fire until you've scrubbed our pots and ladles, wench!" "She can scrub my ladle any time," agrees a leering ape of a man seated near Nyora. "Aww, Grimvold," replies Norvidge. "Don't insult the lady. Everyone knows your ladle's only a teaspoon." [["Never let it be said that a Princess of Thronheim shirks her duty. Show me these pots." ->wherePots]] [["I'm not scrubbing any ladles, metaphorical or otherwise. You lot should be ashamed of yourselves, treating a Crown Princess with such disrespect!" ->scoldOutlaws]] [["But Nyora, I wouldn't dream of taking your job. I'm sure I couldn't get those spoons half as shiny as you do." ->insultNyoraFire]]

The outlaws look at one another. Then the scrawny one stands up. (set: $data's deceive to it + 1) "See here, miss, I think there's something you don't understand. Crown Princess or no Crown Princess, it don't matter to us. We're free men, am I right? And we don't bow to nobody!" He shakes his fist in the air. The outlaws cheer enthusiastically. "To freedom!" roars Grimvold. All of them raise their cups; possibly the party would have begun anew, had Nyora not clapped her hands for silence. She paces around you, her delicate brow creased in scorn. "Well said, Norvidge. And as for this so-called Princess -- you see what she's like. No sooner does she arrive among us, than she starts demanding obeisance. No matter that she's dressed in rags, a prisoner. She still expects to rule! Little idiot. Do you not think each and every one of these men would not take you here and now, should I permit it?" [["Huh. Sounds like someone else thinks she's a ruler now." ->insultNyoraFire2]] [["Sorry, I didn't realise this was a democracy. I'd be more than happy to help with the washing up." ->wherePots]]

The outlaws roar with laughter, then fall abruptly silent as Nyora glares at them. (set: $data's deceive to $data's deceive + 1)(set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) "Oh, really?" she purrs. "Perhaps I shall have you polish Grimvold's spoon right now. Kneel, Princess." [[Kneel. ->kneelByFire]] (if: $sword is 1)[[[Draw your sword. ->drawSwordByFire]]](else:)[[[Refuse. ->refuseKneelByFire]]]

"Among my people, authority is earned by merit, princess. For which reason you shall kneel before us all. Now."(set: $data's deceive to it + 1) [[Kneel. ->kneelByFire]] (if: $sword is 1)[[[Draw your sword. ->drawSwordByFire]]](else:)[[[Refuse. ->refuseKneelByFire]]]

Nyora circles you like a hungry shark. "Ah, princess, I think first a little lesson in humility is required. Kneel!" (set: $data's charm to it + 1) [[Kneel. ->kneelByFire]] (if: $sword is 1)[[[Draw your sword. ->drawSwordByFire]]](else:)[[[Refuse. ->refuseKneelByFire]]]

You drop to your knees. Nyora's eyes glow with satisfaction as she stares down at you. "Pass me your dagger, Grimvold." She holds the point of the blade in the fire until it smokes. "Our ways may part soon, Highness; I would not wish you to forget our encounter." Still smiling, she lowers the blade toward your face. [[Stay still. ->waitNyoraFire]] (if: $sword is 1)[[[Try to draw your sword. ->tryTodrawSwordByFire]]](else:)[[[Try to run. ->runAwayFire]]]

You back away slightly, shaking your head. Nyora remains still and poised, simply watching. Someone grabs you by the hair and kicks the back of your knees. Your legs buckle. (display: "kneelByFire")

As you start to rise, someone catches you by the hair and roughly pushes you down. They hold you still as Nyora's smoking blade traces a delicate pattern millimeters from your face. (display: "leaveFire")

You hold your body still as Nyora's smoking blade traces a delicate pattern millimeters from your face. Surely she will not be so foolish as to harm you. This is merely a charade. Right? (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) (display: "leaveFire")

Her sky-blue eyes are sparkling. She seems filled with joy. The watching men have fallen silent; whether shocked or avid, you can't tell. Footsteps break the silence, and Nyora lowers the blade behind her back as Andreas approaches. His tone is casual. "How about we *not* mutilate the future queen, darling?" "Oh, come on. Just a small decoration?" "What's more important, your decoration or the ransom? You think Saragai will pay full price for damaged goods? You think Torveld won't hunt us down like vermin if we mark his beloved daughter?" Nyora gives a mocking laugh. "Don't be so serious, Andreas. Your precious pet was never in any danger. We were only playing." "I'm sure you were," he replies, mildly. He turns to you. "Come, Highness. I think you'll be more comfortable elsewhere." Though his hand on your arm seems merely courtly, his fingers grip like a vice. Cooperation is clearly not optional. Out of the circle of firelight, you wrest your arm from Andreas's grip. He shakes his head. "Highness, that was foolhardy. These are rough men, and Nyora plays on their evil impulses like a lute. When they're sober, the lust for gold outweighs the urge to vengeance, but in wine and darkness things look different. Come, my tent awaits." You start to back away, but he puts one hand on your arm, lightly. (display: "AndreasInsistTent")

You start to back away, keeping your eyes locked on Nyora. She's quick as a snake and half as trustworthy. She jerks her chin; a signal. Two bulky figures emerge from the shadows and surround you. They don't touch you, but it's clear running is not an option. You look around wildly. Their faces are merciless and eager. Nobody else is near. "Are you scared, little girl? Are you frightened? Are you hoping against hope that brave Andreas will swoop in and rescue you?" Her laughter tinkles around you like shards from a shattered wineglass. She moves closer, her face a mask of purring sympathy. "Are you unaware, my dear, that kidnappers are not well-known for heroism?" Before you can reply, she slaps you across the cheek, a stinging blow. (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) (if: $sword is 1)[[[Draw your sword. ->drawSwordNyora]]](else:)[[[Punch her. ->punchNyora]]] [[Stay where you are. ->notPunchNyora]]

Nyora's eyes widen as your fist hurtles toward her face. The blow connects, but your triumph is fleeting; she's moving as you strike, and you barely touch her. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) (display:"notPunchNyora")

Graceful as a dancer, she nods to the men behind you. They grab your arms and immobilise you. Nyora comes closer, as close as a lover, gazing into your eyes and smiling. (set: $data's likesN to it + 1) Lightly, her fingers trace across the flesh of your arms, seeming to search for something. When they find it they pause, hovering like hummingbirds, and jab hard into your flesh. You scream. It's pain beyond imagining, obviating every other concern, nauseating and blinding. You cannot think, cannot even dream of running. Dimly, you are aware that you are falling. Voices quarrel above you. Andreas? Damn him. Damn everything. When you come to yourself, you're curled in a fetal position on the ground, shaking. Andreas is sitting cross-legged nearby, polishing his sword. Despite the bandage on his shoulder, he looks poised and serene. Drunken voices drift from the campfire. Nyora is arguing with somebody else now. It sounds like she's winning. You can't restrain a groan as you sit up. Your nerves are still screaming, but at least you can control your body now. Andreas flashes you an inappropriately cheery smile. You scowl back at him; he looks slightly chagrined. "Highness, don't be concerned. Nyora is an expert in the art of pain, but she's done no more than bruise you. This time, at least." You start to push yourself to your feet. Your blood boils at his casual insolence. Does he think that torturing a Crown Princess is something that can be simply brushed off? Before you can limp away, he's at your side. (display:"AndreasInsistTent")

The stranger moves to block your way. "Highness, I think you do not understand. Alone in the forest, your death is not a risk, but a certainty. I regret I cannot allow you to continue." You try to push past him, but he moves quickly, never touching you, but making it impossible for you to pass. Seeing the fury in your eyes, he adds: "Upon my honour, Highness, I wish your freedom, but never at the cost of your life. This kidnapping is a brief adventure, nothing more. Let wisdom prevail, I beg you." You bite your lip. As his nakedness makes obvious, the stranger is not only tall and quick; his lean frame suggests he's also lithe as an acrobat. You suspect he is skilled in battle; certainly more so than you. (if: $sword is 1)[But he is, at least, unarmed. [[Draw your sword. ->drawSwordGervain]] [[Yield. ->returnToCamp]]](else:)[There's no way you can match him physically. It seems your choices come down to walking willingly back to your kidnappers, or being carried like a sack of potatoes. Which, for a Princess, is no choice at all. You sigh, and acquiesce. Perhaps your escape will have to wait for a more opportune moment. (display: "returnToCamp")]

"I regret I must insist, Highness. We need to keep you out of Nyora's sight for now. And you need food and a bath. Seriously." (if: $respectPerson is 0)[Seeing your hesitation, he adds, "Would it help if I promised to fully respect your person?" You stare at him, unmoved. Why would you trust his promise? But h](else:)[H]e meets your gaze with cool determination. Clearly he will not be swayed, and he would be more than happy to force you. You simply nod as if agreeing with his reasoning. (display:"goAndreasTent")

Nyora stops mid-sentence, staring past you at the tent door. She makes a covert gesture. Your arms are released and the sword goes away, and you slump to the ground, suddenly aware of the pounding of your heart. "Nyora, what's going on?" You recognise the harsh accent of Andreas. "Nothing, dear. Your pet and I were just having a little chat about boundaries." Andreas pulls you to your feet, (if: not ((history:) contains "stealClothes"))[his expression hard as flint.] (else:)[his mouth hard as flint, even as his eyes rove appreciatively across your body. He picks up your nightdress and you shrug it on, wrinkling your nose.] "Move," he orders you. His voice is curt. When you're outside the tent, he leans close, and murmurs: "Your Highness, forgive my language, but how fucking stupid can you be? Nyora would be happy to kill you already, and you had to go and invade her tent and mess with her stuff? What on earth were you thinking?" [["Umm, that I probably wouldn't get caught?" ->saferInTent]] [["That I really want to learn swordfighting?" ->saferInTent]] [["Gee, I guess I find it hard to always act completely rational when I've just been drugged and kidnapped." ->saferInTent]]

The dog stands up. You fear he'll bark, but instead he gazes up at you thoughtfully, his tail low and head cocked. [[Put out your hand. ->offerHandDog]] [[Back away. ->backAwayDog]]

Dryly, he adds, "Highness, I would be honoured if you would accompany me to our camp? You are in dire need of refreshment, I imagine." Despite the courteous phrasing, his tone has enough steel to communicate that this is an order, not an invitation. The way his eyes rove across your body indicates he would be happy to enforce it. You will not give him that satisfaction. (if: $in_tree is true)[And in any case, sitting on a branch in your night-gown is pointless and uncomfortable.] (display:"climbDownSayNothing")

The steel blade glimmers in the moonlight as you slash at the silvery web. Severed strands recoil as if in pain, twining in the air, and as your second blow descends, they strike like a nest of vipers, wrapping your hands and blade in sticky threads. Instinctively, you try to wipe them away on your nightgown. Now your hands and sword are stuck to your gown. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) (display:"childrenAttack")

Shrill laughter tinkles on all sides. You stare wildly around. Tiny pairs of eyes gleam in the upper branches, reflecting the moon. From above, more silvery strands are falling, shimmering like silken rain. They touch you light as thistledown. You try to run, but every movement tightens the web around you. [[(set: $difficulty to 16)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Fight the web. ->fightWeb]] [[Wait and see what happens. ->waitSeeWeb]]

The stranger's eyes narrow slightly when you touch your sword. (set: $data's fight to it + 1) As the blade leaves its sheath, it twists in your hand. You grab at it, but the slick metal escapes your grasp. You blink. You didn't see him move, but the stranger is now holding your sword. He tosses it high in the air, turning end over end, and catches it. "This is beautifully made, but I do not think it belongs to you. Come, Your Highness. The night grows old." (display: "returnToCamp")

Nyora's eyes widen, and she steps back as you draw the blade with a satisfying zing. You lower the point, ready to attack. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1) She frowns. "You need to ask permission if you want to play with other people's toys, Highness." As she speaks, she whirls, lashing out with one silk-stockinged foot. You try to dodge, but the blade drops. Nyora catches it in mid-air and tucks it into her belt. (set: $sword to 0) (display:"notPunchNyora")

You draw your blade with a pleasant zing, provoking admiring gasps and chuckles from the circle by the fire. Nyora's eyes narrow in irritation. (set: $data's fight to $data's fight + 1)(set: $data's likesN to it + 1) You lower the point, ready to attack. Her voice is sweet as ever. "You need to ask permission if you want to play with other people's toys, Highness." As she speaks, she whirls, lashing out with one silk-stockinged foot. You try to dodge, but the blade drops. Nyora catches it in mid-air and tucks it into her belt. (set: $sword to 0) Someone grabs you by the hair and kicks the back of your knees. Your legs buckle. (display: "kneelByFire")

As you put your hand on the hilt, the blade is torn from your grip. Nyora tosses it away. "You need to ask permission if you want to play with other people's toys, Highness." (set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) (display: "leaveFire")

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You break into a stumbling run. Your lungs still burn from the fall, and pain lances up your ankle with every step. Crashing through the undergrowth, you can hear nothing above your own ragged breathing. [[Keep running. ->keepRunningWolves]] [[Look for a weapon.->getStick]] [[Put your back to a tree.->backToTree]]

Something hits you behind the knees. You fall, snatching a branch as a creature hurtles toward you. But there's sudden weight on your back - you crash to the ground, winded. Fire slashes your left arm; you glimpse stars above as you're rolled over on your back. You can't even draw breath to scream as the beasts move in. Saliva drips onto your face, and the stench of their huge mouths surrounds you. Their tongues flutter across your body and face curiously, and lick at the warm blood pooling around your limp arm. Desperately you cling to consciousness, but the world reels around you. With your last shreds of awareness, you hear a distant barking. [[Wake up. ->wakeRescueA]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's will to it + 3)(set: $data's fight to it + 3) You charge directly at the nearest creature, whirling your stick and yelling like a banshee. (if: $success is true)[The beasts flinch, and they scatter from your path, but not quickly enough: one yelps as your stick catches a hindleg. The creature flees, yammering and whining, and the others follow, seeming to disappear into the night. But will they return? A massive oak offers some shelter, its lower branches wide as stairs. Still, you haven't had much experience with tree-climbing, and as you clumsily hoist yourself from branch to branch, the limbs grow narrow and sway alarmingly. At last you come to a fork where you can perch in relative comfort. Now that you are not fighting for survival, the torment of your body returns full force. Every inch of your torso is covered with bruises, and your hands are numb and raw from the burn of the rope. You wonder how long you can last up here. Drowsiness creeps over you. Perhaps the creatures are gone. And even if they are not, it might be better to face them on the ground rather than wait up here until your limbs fail. You sit in the dark, cold tree. All is silent. [[Climb down from the tree. ->climbDownTree]] [[Stay in the tree for now. ->waitInTreeAgain]] ](else:)[The beasts flinch, and they scatter from your path, effortlessly outdistancing you. Then they slow to a loping run and circle back. They keep their distance, but dart glances at you. Mouths open and tongues flicker nervously in your direction. (if: $backToTree is 0)[[[Put your back to a tree.->backToTree]]](else:)[ [[Climb the tree.->climbTree]] ] [[Attack again. ->attackWolvesAgain]]]

You run at the creatures again. This time, their evasion seems lazier, as if they know you cannot catch them. As you come to a halt, puffing, you realise you've lost sight of one of them. (display: "keepRunningWolves")

You clamber down, shivering. The oak may be safe from monsters, but it won't hide you from your kidnappers. Everything aches. You force your exhausted limbs into a stumbling run, staggering along the narrow leaf-strewn path through sheer force of will.(set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1)(set: $in_tree to false) Rustling alerts you to movement in the undergrowth. Another creature? Something bursts from the bushes, lighter and taller than the monsters. It's the russet dog. It bounds around you in a circle, then sits, gazing up at you with moonlight in its amber eyes. Its tail lashes slowly from side to side, and it starts barking. It isn't a hostile bark; rather, it sounds as if it is calling someone. Moments later, hooves clatter, and a horseman canters into view. It's Andreas. As he sees you, a grin breaks across his face. Abruptly conscious that you are caked in mud and half-naked, you smooth your tattered nightdress and meet his gaze defiantly. He slides awkwardly from the horse and limps to your side. A strip torn from his cloak bandages his shoulder(if: $data's warnedA is 0)[, and the side of his head is crusted with dried blood]. (if: $data's warnedA is 1)[(if: $data's hatpinAHesitate is 1)["That's twice you've seen fit to spare my life, Princess. I'm honoured."](else:)["My thanks, Princess. Your warning back there may have saved my life."] He extends a gauntleted hand. "Still, you were unwise to flee. The Twisted Forest is home to all manner of evil. It's fortunate I found you.](else:)[He extends a gauntleted hand. "It's fortunate I found you, Princess. The forest is home to all manner of evil."] The dog gives a low, grumbling woof. [["What the hell were those ...things?" ->whatThings]] [["Actually, the dog found me, not you." ->goodPointDog]] [["So much worse than being sold to a sorcerer as a blood sacrifice." ->muchWorseSacrifice]]

Though your whole body aches and you can barely prevent yourself from drowsing, you wedge yourself against the trunk and force yourself to wait. Seconds tick by with agonizing slowness. Something moves in the undergrowth. An animal. Another monster? You tense, staring into darkness. A shape bursts from the bushes, lighter and taller than the monsters. It's the russet dog. It bounds to the foot of your tree and sits, gazing up at you with moonlight in its amber eyes. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) Its tail lashes slowly from side to side, and it starts barking. It isn't a hostile bark; rather, it sounds as if it is calling someone. Moments later, hooves clatter, and a horseman canters into view. Andreas. As he sees you, a grin breaks across his face. Abruptly conscious that you are perched in a tree, caked in mud and half-naked, you smooth your tattered nightdress and meet his gaze defiantly. He slides awkwardly from the horse and limps to your side. A strip torn from his cloak bandages his shoulder(if: $data's warnedA is 0)[, and the side of his head is crusted with dried blood]. (if: $data's warnedA is 1)[Peering up at you, his warped smile broadens. (if: $data's hatpinAHesitate is 1)["That's twice you've seen fit to spare my life, Princess. I'm honoured."](else:)["My thanks, Princess. Your warning back there may have saved my life."] He extends a gauntleted hand. "Still, you were unwise to flee. The Twisted Forest is home to all manner of evil. It's fortunate I found you.](else:)[Peering up at you, he extends a gauntleted hand. "It's fortunate I found you, Princess. The forest is home to all manner of evil."] The dog gives a low, grumbling woof. [["What the hell were those ...things?" ->whatThings]] [["Actually, the dog found me, not *you*." ->goodPointDog]] [["So much worse than being sold to a sorcerer as a blood sacrifice." ->muchWorseSacrifice]] [[Just take his hand and climb down. ->climbDownSayNothing]]

The stranger halts. (if: ((history:) contains "drawSwordGervain"))[He passes the sword back to you. "I suggest you return this to its owner." ]A peculiar expression -- perhaps a momentary pain -- crosses his face. "I cannot linger here, Highness. My time is done. Do not be afraid. Simply walk toward the lights." He turns and dashes back into the woods with unseemly haste. Reluctantly, you continue to the edge of the circle of light. The outlaws are singing a noisy drinking song; apparently, nobody noticed your absence. (if: not ((history:) contains "lookAroundCamp"))[You creep closer to the central fire to eavesdrop, but catch only raucous songs and crude jokes. If you wish to discover more of these outlaws' plans, it seems you must look inside a tent. But the warmth of the fire draws you almost irresistibly. ](if: not ((history:) contains "peekInTent"))[[[Peek inside a tent. ->peekInTent]]](else:)[You hesitate. The prospect of returning to the Twisted Forest chills your blood. You're half-frozen, exhausted, bruised and weak. But remaining among these uncouth outlaws scarcely seems better -- even if they weren't planning to trade you to an evil sorcerer as a human sacrifice. [[Perhaps if you are quick enough, you can steal a horse and gallop away. ->gallopAway]]] [[Go sit by the nice warm fire. ->sitByFire]]

They merely glance at you curiously, giggling a little, then return their attention to your tight-bound body. One starts to unwrap your toes. In moments, they are all over you. Small fangs sink into your shoulder, your thighs, your neck. (display: "gervainArrives")

(display: "dice")(set: $data's will to it + 3) Panicking will not help. You can't think clearly. But you have to try! With a soft thud like ripe fruit, a creature lands beside you. You can't ignore the prickling sensation as it clambers onto your arm and steps delicately toward your shoulder. (if: $success is true)[Squeezing shut your eyes, you force yourself to concentrate. The memory grows stronger. A warm feeling... bedtime, a cosy winter fire burning in your tower room. Your nurse's voice, reading from your favorite storybook. *Sing to them, sing to them, the children of the night*. And you know what to do. You recall a sunny day, years ago, when you and Rain snuck out to Splashglass Harbour to busk by the wharf. A stab in your calf pulls you back to reality. One of the creatures has latched onto the muscle of your leg. It grins at you, little needle-teeth rimmed in bright blood. [[Beg for mercy. ->begMercyNephilae]] [[Yell furiously. ->begMercyNephilae]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Will")(display: "makeDice") Remember the song you sang. ->calmDownAgain]]](else:)[(display: "notThink")]

Desperately, you try to command your thoughts away from the creeping and prickling as the dead-faced creatures scuttle across your body, probing your flesh with bony fingers. You try not to listen to their chittering and giggling, but you cannot close your ears. You screw shut your eyes, but what happens in your imagination is, if anything, worse. Even the dry, acid scent of them catches your nostrils and makes you want to vomit. Don't think about it! But the more you try to stop it, the more your mind torments you. Your panic grows. You have to do something! [[Beg for mercy. ->begMercyNephilae]] [[Yell furiously. ->begMercyNephilae]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's will to it + 3) You shut your eyes again and concentrate on remembering that day by the wharf. How did the tune go again? It was the one about the cherry-blossoms falling, wasn't it? (if: $success is true)[Slowly, a few faint, distorted notes return to you. You force yourself to purse your lips. Your whistle is out-of tune and nigh inaudible. But the second time, it's stronger, and you make it through the first two lines of the song. The creatures pause, heads cocked warily. You whistle louder and make it to the rousing refrain. The creatures chitter in outrage, but they don't bite any more. They seem perturbed. [[(set: $difficulty to 8)(set: $skill_name to "Will")(display: "makeDice"): Whistle as loud as you can. ->whistleLoud]] [[Check what the creatures are doing. ->stopWhistling]]](else:)[Wetness trickles across your skin. Your blood. Small teeth gnawing. You can't focus. (display: "notThink")]

Someone cries out. The creatures scatter into the branches. (display: "footsteps")

(display: "dice")(set: $data's will to it + 3) (if: $success is true)[You put everything out of your mind except your brave whistling. The creatures shudder and chatter, raising bulbous bodies on delicate legs. You ignore them. Only the memory matters. How did Rain look at you that day, whilst you were singing? What was the expression in his eyes, when you sang the line about parting at dawn? The warmth of his thigh against yours; the sun sparkling in his merry eyes. You immerse yourself in the wholesome memory, letting the tune carry you far from the Twisted Forest and all its evil. (set: $beatneph to 1) You're dimly aware that the chatter above you has grown to consternation.](else:)[You strive to put everything out of your mind except your whistling. Only the memory matters. What was that expression in Rain's eyes, when you sang the line about parting at dawn? Did he want to be there, that day? Or was it just another thing he tolerated because he thought you needed time to grow up? The creatures shudder and chatter, raising bulbous bodies on delicate legs. You can't focus. Will you ever see him again? Your melody stumbles. Maybe it's better if you don't.] (display: "stopWhistling")

You hesitate, staring around at the creatures perched upon you. Though their faces are vaguely human, their tongues flicker in and out now and then; long insectile tubes mounted like flower-stamens amid receding circlets of backward-pointing teeth. You shudder. The song has fled your mind; all you can think of is those awful rosettes of bloodied teeth. The creatures hum and whistle, and sink their long probosci into your flesh once more. (display: "gervainArrives")

He ignores the jibe, frowning. "Really, Highness? The street children of Stelgarte used to trade tales of the Twisted Forest like spiced candy. Stories of ogres and trolls, of dark enchantment and monsters born of nightmare. What we didn't know, Highness, was that the stories were false." He looks up, meeting your eyes grimly. (display: "nursemaidTales")

"The tales are inaccurate, Highness, for the truth is darker than any fairytale. Consider this encampment a ship moored in shark-infested waters, Highness. We're safe here, protected by more than fire and dogs. But if you stray beyond the circle of light, your life will be short and your death long." He pauses, still staring at you coldly. "Do you understand, Highness? I would not choose to restrain you again, but I cannot permit you to harm yourself." [["Go ahead and tie me up, then. You've already shown yourself for what you are, Andreas. Do you think your cruelty matters to me?" ->coldReply]] [[(set: $difficulty to 5)(set: $skill_name to "Charm")(display: "makeDice"): "Please, Andreas. I can barely walk. Have mercy -- I won't try to escape, I swear." ->plead]]

His stare hardens. "It's no laughing matter. We're a day's ride into the forest, and the paths are many and twisting. If you're foolish enough to leave our camp, your death is a virtual certainty. I've no wish to impose further indignity upon you, but since I cannot rely on your good sense, I *must* enforce it." [["Then do so. I know better than to expect mercy from the likes of you, Andreas!" ->noPromise]] [["Salve your conscience how you will, Andreas. The truth is, you're being gratuitously cruel. We both know I'm in no condition to escape, even if the Forest were a hayfield." ->notForgive]] [["Andreas, you just kidnapped me to sell me to a murderer. You'll have to forgive me if I doubt your sincerity." ->hypocrit]]

For a moment, his eyes blaze with fury. Then he takes a deep breath. "Quite right, Highness." His voice is death-cold. He takes a rope from a saddlebag, uncoils it and flexes it in his hands, feeling the texture of the strands with curious intensity. As he advances on you, his eyes are suddenly wide and black, and a half-smile curves his lips, distorted by the tugging of the scar. [[Say nothing. ->sayNothingAndreas]] [["Wait! Please, Andreas, I beg you, don't tie me up again! I can't bear it! I'll be good, I promise!" ->actuallyNo]]

A tight grin flashes across his scarred features. "Of course I forgive you; I doubt my own sincerity at times. This sudden impulse toward compassion is as mysterious to me as it is to you." (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) [["Compassion? Hardly. In fact, you are being gratuitously cruel. We both know I'm in no condition to escape, even if the Forest were a hayfield." ->notForgive]] [[(set: $difficulty to 5)(set: $skill_name to "Charm")(display: "makeDice"): "Please, Andreas. You know I can barely walk. Have mercy -- I won't try to escape, I swear." ->plead]]

Fear lances through you at the predatory intensity of his gaze. Your body trembles; without thinking, you start to back away. His eyes follow you; he moves languidly, like cat stalking a trapped mouse. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) The magnetism of his gaze holds you in place effortlessly, even as your brain screams to flee. [[Try to run. ->runAndreas]] [[Stay still. ->stayStill]]

The predatory smile fades, and he lowers the rope, but his eyes are still flint-hard. "Why should I believe your promise, Highness?" [[(set: $difficulty to 3)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "Look at me! After the abuse you've put me through, I can barely walk, let alone escape through the Twisted Forest." ->plead]] [["A princess of Stelgarte does not lie. My word is my bond, Andreas." ->pleadLost]]

"Your Highness." He stares at you, eyes narrowed. "What do you know of the Twisted Forest?" [["Very little, actually. Other than that it's where certain craven bandits go to cower from the law." ->notMuch]] [["Well, according to my old nursemaid, it's a place of dark enchantment, overrun with half-human monstrosities and demonspawn. She always did like scaring small children." ->nursemaidTales]]

He walks away quickly, as if he cannot wait to be out of your sight. Good riddance. Furiously, you stamp your foot in the dirt -- and at once regret the gesture, for it reawakens a dozen nerve endings to agony. You crumple to the ground, clutching your calf and whimpering. The russet dog, who is lying nearby, cocks his head at the sound. His teeth are hidden now, his expression soft as a spaniel's. Slowly, the pain recedes. (display: "DogStands")

For a moment, it seems your body will not obey. You stand frozen, unable to break the compulsion in his hungry gaze. Then something snaps in you; you turn and dash toward the darkness. Not fast enough. You manage four strides before he's on you, snatching at your torn gown. You stumble; he's in front now, pushing you backward, lightly. You fall upon damp leaves. He straddles your body, dark eyes aglow as his warm thighs clasp around your ribs. The hard, urgent heat of his desire presses the thin leather separating him from your abdomen. You start to push him away; grinning, he captures your hands, wrapping both in one of his. He raises that hand to his lips and kisses your fingertips. When you struggle, his grip tightens until you gasp. "I said I didn't wish to restrain you, Highness. But I didn't say I wouldn't enjoy it." With his free hand, he dangles the rope across your chest, just below your breasts. As you writhe away, kicking, he raises his body slightly, relieving the pressure on your torso. At once you twist, trying to jerk your hands free while rolling onto your belly. He lets your hands slide in his grip, then abruptly twists your arms behind your back. Swiftly, he loops the rope around your wrists and binds them tightly. He stands, looking down at you and smiling. He's breathing hard, but not with effort. "I'll return shortly, Highness. Don't try to move. The knots will tighten if you do." Something in his voice tells you he's not lying. [[Wait. ->waitAndreas]]

His smile widens, black eyes aglow, as he advances on you. Very gently, he takes your hands in his, and raises them to his lips. Softly, he kisses your fingertips; each touch sends an electric shudder through your flesh. Your will melts away; his hunger sinks into your bones, possessing you. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) He laces his fingers around your wrists, caressing them as he steps delicately behind you and draws your hands behind your back. Languidly, he loops the rope around your wrists and pulls it tight. He stands back, admiring his handiwork. He's breathing hard, but not with effort. "I'll return shortly, Highness. Don't try to move. The knots will tighten if you do." Something in his voice tells you he's not lying. [[Wait. ->waitAndreas]]

Anger glitters in his eyes, and his retort is icy: "It is not cruelty, princess, but vigilance; I can see you're fool enough to venture into the Forest, no matter the consequences. And I will *not* allow you to get yourself killed." (set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1) [["I wouldn't dream of it. No, I'll just wait here politely until you're ready to trade me to the evil sorcerer for a human sacrifice." ->noLaughingMatter]] [[(set: $difficulty to 5)(set: $skill_name to "Charm")(display: "makeDice"): "Please, Andreas. I can barely walk. Have mercy -- I won't try to escape, I swear." ->plead]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's persuade to it + 3)(set: $data's charm to it + 3)(set: $data's deceive to it + 1) (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) He stares at you, teeth clenched and eyes wide. Mixed emotions flash across his visage. Is that shame or lust? Anger or fear? You cannot tell. Finally he speaks, very softly now: (if: $success is true)["I cannot ask you to have faith in me. But there are facts you do not know, and I cannot tell you here. Know this at least: *I am not your enemy.*" Again he hesitates. Hope flares in you; he sees it and frowns. "In Khargai, we have a saying, Highness: trust begins with trust. Swear you will not try to leave. I promise you, all I've told you is true." [["I will not venture into the Forest, I swear." ->cheatSwear]] [["I will not try to leave the camp, I swear." ->realSwear]]](else:)["Do not think you can mislead me, Highness. You still intend to flee, even weakened as you are, and knowing the gruesome end you'll likely face. And yet, if I restrain you now, the distrust between us will only grow. Seline, there are facts you do not know, and I cannot tell you here. Know this at least: *I am not your enemy.*" Again he hesitates. Hope flares in you; he sees it and frowns. "In Khargai, we have a saying, Highness: trust begins with trust. I will not ask you to swear that you will not flee. I only hope that your good judgement will prevail." (display: "goodRiddance")]

He winces. "I intend no cruelty. But there are matters I must attend to, and I cannot leave you unrestrained." [[(set: $difficulty to 5)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "Why not? Look at me! After the abuse you've put me through, I can barely walk, let alone escape through the Twisted Forest." ->plead]] [["Then do as you will. I know better than to expect mercy from the likes of you, Andreas!" ->noPromise]]

*Good thing you're already inside it.* (set: $swore to 0) (display: "realSwear")

Andreas is watching you closely. You sense an internal struggle. At last he nods. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1)(set: $swore to 1) "Very well, Highness. Wait here; I'll prepare a tent where we may talk in private." (display: "goodRiddance")

You sit on the chill leaves, fuming, as the damp rises through the mulch and soaks your thin nightgown. As the night draws on, the outlaws by the bonfire grow more raucous. An argument breaks out. Nyora's voice is shrill. "And why should that matter?" You do not catch the reply, but her retort is clear: "Not necessarily. Dynasties do not last forever. She's the last of her line, and Saragai is hungry for vengeance." This time, her antagonist's voice is also raised. He's a scrawny man, who wears an odd peaked hat. "That kind o' thinkin' leads to war, Nyora!" "Precisely!" Nyora's tone is satisfied. "War ain't good for nobody!" retorts the scrawny man. "No? Do you truly believe that, Norvidge? Do you see nothing of what I've worked for, in all these years of exile?" "Eh! We all know your thirst, Nyora. But that don't mean we all agree to sate it." "And why not, pray? Do you not value freedom? I don't know about you, Norvidge, but I've yet to see a royal I'd bend to." "What, not even Prince Morael of Saragai?" This provokes a burst of laughter. "Don't every woman dream --" "Every woman but me, perhaps. I do not care for redheads, and I care less for princes. Or princesses." At last Andreas returns. He carefully removes your bindings and pulls you to your feet. "I apologise for the discomfort, Highness. Come. A bath and food awaits you in my tent." A bath and food. What could be more enticing to your bruised, starved and aching body? You've neither eaten nor washed in days. But in *his* tent? With *him*? Seeing your hesitation, he adds, "Would it help if I promised to fully respect your person?" His eyes tell you he will not be swayed. You shrug. (display: "goAndreasTent")

(set: $data's will to $data's will+ 1)(display: "NyoraSmiles")

The weapons rack holds a slender sabre and several jewelled daggers. All are small enough for a woman's hand. (set: $touchsword to 1) You've never seen such fine weapons made for women, and you can't resist drawing the sword. It rests light and balanced in your hand. [[Try out the sword. You know you want to! ->trySword]] [[Steal the sword and sneak out while you can. ->stealSword]]

A sparkling sky-blue gem weighs down a pile of papers on the desk. You set it aside to rifle through them, and find a letter written on creamy parchment in an elegant, curving hand. The broken seal has the form of an ornate tower upon an island. [[Read the letter. ->readGoroduinLetter]] [[Examine the weapons. ->ignoreLetter]]

{ (if: $recap is 1)[*A scarred outlaw named Andreas has broken into Princess Seline's tower bedroom, drugged and kidnapped her. He plans to ransom her to the highest bidder - which may be her father, King Torveld of Thronheim, or Torveld's enemy King Estevan of Saragai, or possibly the Sorcerer of Caer Goroduin, who purportedly requires the blood of a virgin princess for his magical rituals.* (display: "skills") (print: "<a href=\"index.html\">Go to Contents Page</a>") -----] (else:)[ (link: "Show recap")[ (set: $recap to 1) (replace: ?recap)[(display: "recap")] ] ] }

Andreas looks sombre. "They have no name I know. The Forest breeds many such unnatural forms." (display:"accompanyToCamp")

(set: $settings to StrayHeirs["settings"])<script>window.StrayHeirs.applyStyle();</script> (if: $canundo)[ ------ |== (if: $settings's darkmode is 1)[(link-undo:'<img alt="Undo" src="arrow3.png"/>')](else:)[(link-undo:'<img alt="Undo" src="arrow3dark.png"/>')] ==| (if: $settings's darkmode is 1)[(link: '<img src="settings.png" alt="Info & Settings" />')[(goto:"otherInfo")]](else:)[(link: '<img src="settingsdark.png" alt="Info & Settings" />')[(goto:"otherInfo")]]](else:)[(set: $canundo to true)]

Invisible feet scatter as you pass, surrounded by shrill, stifled giggles. You keep walking, barely breathing. A pebble strikes the path in front of you, thrown from above. But as you peer into the branches, all grows still. When you walk on, the rustling begins again. Something caresses your hair. A creature darts spider-like across the path before you. You glimpse a human face, yet it's too small, and has too many limbs. Before you can scream, it's gone. All is still. After a moment, you creep onward. Should you run? No. It's what they want. Whispers and laughter drift from the bushes ahead. A huge spider web is draped across the path, limned in silver by starlight and shimmering with rainbows. You hesitate. [[Just brush it aside. It's only a web. ->brushWeb]] [[Step into the bushes to go around the web. ->goAroundWeb]](if: $sword is 1)[ [[Slash at the web with your sword. ->slashWeb]]]

You cling to shreds of dreams, unwilling to return to a reality worse than any nightmare. But eventually you cannot ignore the dull burning in your arm. You realise your head is pillowed upon a cloak with prickly bracken beneath, and something warm and furry is curled at your side.(set: $in_tree to false)(set: $data's likesM to it + 1) Your eyes fly open, recalling the monstrous wolves. At once the russet dog stands up and stretches, arching its back as if embarrassed. It gives a low woof. (set: $data's likesA to it + 1) A dark figure turns and limps toward you. Andreas. A strip torn from his cloak bandages his shoulder; his horse is tied nearby. The same material is wrapped around your upper arm. Gingerly, you feel around the wound, wincing. (set: $arm to 1) "Barely a scratch, Highness." He smiles, extending a gauntletted hand. "But it's well you're awake. The forest is home to all manner of evil." [["What the hell were those ...things?" ->whatThings]] [["Worse than being sold to a sorcerer as a blood sacrifice?" ->muchWorseSacrifice]]

(set: $show_roll_details to 0)(set: $roll to $randarray's ($array_position))(set: $array_position to it + 1)(set: $total to $ability + $roll)(set: $recorded_difficulty to $difficulty)(set: $recorded_ability to $ability)(set: $recorded_skill_name to $skill_name)(if: $total >= $difficulty)[(set: $success to true)Success!](else:)[(set: $success to false)Failure :(] |roll_details>[(display: "Roll_details")]

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(if: $skill_name is "Deceive")[(set: $ability to $data's deceive/10)](elseif: $skill_name is "Fight")[(set: $ability to $data's fight/10)](elseif: $skill_name is "Charm")[(set: $ability to $data's charm/10)](elseif: $skill_name is "Will")[(set: $ability to $data's will/10)](elseif: $skill_name is "Persuade")[(set: $ability to $data's persuade/10)](else:)[Error: unknown skill] $skill_name (Skill $ability)

He stares at you, teeth clenched and eyes wide. Mixed emotions flash across his visage. Is that shame or lust? Anger or fear? You cannot tell. Finally he speaks, very softly now: "Do not think you can mislead me, Highness. You still intend to flee, even weakened as you are, and knowing the gruesome end you'll likely face. And yet, if I restrain you now, the distrust between us will only grow. Seline, there are facts you do not know, and I cannot tell you here. Know this at least: *I am not your enemy.*" Again he hesitates. Hope flares in you; he sees it and frowns. "In Khargai, we have a saying, Highness: trust begins with trust. I will not ask you to swear that you will not flee. I only hope that your good judgement will prevail." (display: "goodRiddance")

(display: "dice")(set: $data's fight to it + 2) (if: $success is true)[You notice that many of the strands are emanating from the tangled branches above you, where a pale bulbous form crouches. Its many eyes glimmer with lascivious hunger. With the last of your strength, you twist free of the strands that bind your arms(if: $sword is 1)[ and hurl your sword](else:)[, snatch a rock from the ground and hurl it] at the creature. It emits a bubbling hiss, like an angry pressure cooker, and the branches rustle. The shape is gone. A scatter of tiny feet follows in the surrounding trees, then silence. You are alone. But the surrounding bushes are still draped in shimmering webs; you peer around anxiously, finding no clear path.(set: $creaturesGone to true)(set: $beatneph to 2) (display: "footsteps")](else:)[You kick and stomp at the strands, but your feet become entangled, and (display: "fallWeb")]

The strands keep falling, writhing and tightening as they twine around you, tugging at your knees and thighs until (display: "fallWeb")

you fall and lie helplessly, unable even to roll over, watching the iridescent threads descend. The web quivers, moonlight rippling through its strands. Soon, it will cover you entirely, your hair, your mouth, your nose, silencing your screams and stilling your desperate gasps for air. Small feet run across your legs. The web does not entrap them. You glimpse a scuttling shape at your side. It raises delicate forelimbs to touch you, pressing lightly on your flesh. Others gather by your face. Tiny human-like hands stroke your cheeks, gently shifting aside the strands. You take a deep, shuddering breath. They smell faintly acidic, like trodden ants. The creatures jump back, giggling. Now you can turn your head and see them properly. Their bodies are bulbous and pale, many-legged. They have faces like dead children. Your scream sends them leaping backwards. Scattering into the branches again, they chitter and hurl acorns at you. [["I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." ->sorryChildren]] [[Wait quietly. ->waitChildren]]

Human footsteps resound on the path, and a man appears, standing over you: the stranger from the starlit pool. He's still naked. Gazing around, he chants a song in a language you do not recognise. (set: $data's likesM to it + 1) You open your mouth to warn him. Golden fire appears around his hands, radiating outward. Wherever it touches the web, the silver strands blacken and shrivel. (if: $creaturesGone is true)[T](else:)[The creatures screech, fleeing, as t]he web falls to dust around you. Your rescuer extends a sword-calloused hand. His amber eyes meet yours with warmth and sensitivity. You blink. Actually, he's not *completely* naked. A circlet of yellow gold rests in his auburn hair, set with a brilliant ruby. He lifts you carefully to your feet. He's tall, and moves with willowy grace; his skin has the golden tone of fall leaves. "My apologies, Your Highness." The stranger's enunciation is flawlessly precise, his tone courtly. A high-born foreigner? "I would not have come before you thus unattired, but that it seemed a swift intervention was needed." [["What were those things?" ->whatChildren]] (if: $beatneph is 0)[[["You saved my life! Please don't apologise." ->dontApologise]] [["I owe you my life, brave stranger. Might I know my saviour's name?" ->whoGervain]]](else:)[[["I had it covered, actually. But there's *definitely* no need to apologise." ->dontApologise]] [["My thanks, brave stranger. Might I know your name?" ->whoGervain]]]

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(set: $canundo to false) ###Info & Settings * **Undo**: Use the link at the bottom of each page. Don't use your browser's back button. To change a choice in an earlier chapter, you need to complete that chapter *and* any subsequent ones again. * **Skills**: Some choices can succeed or fail. You succeed if your skill + a D20 roll exceeds the difficulty of the choice. Skills increase as you use them. * **Relationships**: Relationships can affect the difficulty of skill-based choices. * **Endings**: The story has up to 20 chapters and a variety of endings. All major endings remain accessible until Chapter 15, though the paths leading to them may change. From Chapter 16, the story diverges. ####Your data * **Data storage**: Local storage is used only as needed to transfer some choices between chapters. If you change browsers or delete your browser history you will start over. * **Privacy**: No personal data returns to the server. ####Settings * **Content**: Sex scenes are |button>[(display: "Button")] * **Display**: |modeButton>[(display: "DarkModeButton")] * **Font**: |fontButton>[(display: "FontSizeButtons")] (print: "<a href=\"index.html\">Go to Contents Page</a>")(set: $settings to StrayHeirs["settings"])<script>window.StrayHeirs.applyStyle();</script> ------ (if: $settings's darkmode is 1)[(link-undo:'<img alt="Undo" src="arrow3.png"/>')](else:)[(link-undo:'<img alt="Undo" src="arrow3dark.png"/>')]

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<p style="color:red">Skills: Deceive (print: ($data's deceive/10).toFixed(1)) | Persuade (print: ($data's persuade/10).toFixed(1)) | Charm (print: ($data's charm/10).toFixed(1)) | Will (print: ($data's will/10).toFixed(1)) | Fight (print: ($data's fight/10).toFixed(1))</p style><p style="color:red">Relationships: Tertia (print: ($data's likesT/10).toFixed(1)) | Andreas (print: ($data's likesA/10).toFixed(1)) | Rain (print: ($data's likesR/10).toFixed(1)) | Nyora (print: ($data's likesN/10).toFixed(1))</p style>

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"Really, Highness? You make me blush." (set: $data's likesN to it + 1)(display: "NyoraSmiles")

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