Ch18 The Strays Return

TODO: Check Te Sharah has been renamed Isholme throughout. TODO: Rename ship Leviathan, reference throughout The chapter opens with Seline arriving at the Saragaian capital with Rain, Morael, Tertia, Norvidge and Grimvold, after Andreas has disappeared. They discover that the King is dead and the city has been taken by Thronheim. Seline and Morael enter the city seeking information, with Morael in the form of a dog. BAD PATH (canon): Seline is captured, and brought before Yellowtooth, who explains that the misinformation of Seline's death provided a perfect excuse for the invasion. He does not intend to allow her father to suffer the embarrassment of discovering that she is, in fact, still alive. Seline is rescued by Nyora, who explains that she has been sent to protect and serve Seline. She gives Seline a letter from the Sorcerer. It says that he is pleased with her choices, and intends to help her... for now... They spend the night at a local whorehouse, where Seline may try to seduce Morael in order to break the curse. They discover that in fact, breaking the curse requires not sex but blood-drinking, which, if they proceed, leaves Morael apparently dead. Seline confronts her father at a coronation ceremony for the new puppet King of Saragai, and reveals Yellowtooth's treachery. Yellowtooth tries to kill the King. BAD END: Seline may/may not save her father, but they are forced to flee. Yellowtooth declares himself king of both Thronheim and Saragai. OR GOOD END: Seline succeeds in liberating the King and defeats Yellowtooth. Seeing her strength and wisdom, he realizes that she deserves power in her own right, and agrees that she can marry whomever she pleases, or nobody if she prefers. THE END Consequences of previous chapters: Seline may thinks about / flirt with whomever she has slept with. Rain trumps Andreas if she has had sex with both. If she has not revealed that Andreas is a Prince, she may do so here, or choose not to; if she doesn't reveal it, then he will not have an opportunity to become King and it will be much harder to persuade him to marry her. Skills: The good end requires that Seline either avoids capture or has very high combat skill. Skills are: combat, lying, kindness -Seline is reliant on her personal strengths for influence. -If she marries Morael, or marries Rain without breaking the curse, she may unify the nations and become Empress of Thorogai. -If she marries Rain AND breaks the curse, she cements peace with Saragai, and Morael becomes King there. -Morael can break the curse by drinking Seline's blood, but he will become a vampire. -If she does NOT marry a Saragaian prince, she will have to find some other way to convince her father to let her rule Thronheim instead of marrying Yellowtooth. -She can persuade Nyora to incriminate Yellowtooth to avoid marrying him. -She can try to persude Andreas to become King of Saragai, marry her, and unify the lands. If she fails in this, Andreas leaves, but returns at her wedding. She can then elope with him, or recruit him as her Master of Spies. - it's harder work, but it should be clear that Seline is on track to create an empire that is just as good as if she had played the game, and she keeps her soul.

{ (print: "<script>$('html').removeClass(\)</script>") (if: (passage:)'s tags's length > 0)[ (print: "<script>$('html').addClass('" + (passage:)'s tags.join(' ') + "'\)</script>") ] }

##Chapter 18 #Consequences (set: $torveldKnows to 0)(set: $savedSaragai to 1)(set: $vampire to 1)(set: $coward to 0) (if: $data's savedSaragai is 0)[(display: "beginSaragaiNotSaved")](else:)[(if: $data's vampire is 1)[(display: "beginSaragaiSavedVamp")](else:)[(display: "beginSaragaiSavedNoVamp")]]

You drop to your knees at King Torveld's feet. A second rider gallops up behind. Yellowtooth swings down from his horse, dagger in hand. "It's an assassin! Stop her!" Two of the knights raise their bows. "Don't shoot!" Torveld barks. A slow grin spreads across his ancient face. "So... you really did come back to me? I half-thought it a dream." "It's an impersonator! Kill her!" yells Raddibore. The King leans down, offering a veined and callused hand to pull you to your feet, all the time staring into your eyes. He keeps hold of your hand, and you feel him shaking. His voice drops to a whisper. "Follow my lead, lass. You were right about Yellowtooth. Let's show these Saragaian dogs how Thronheim deals with traitors, shall we?" [["Father, beware! Yellowtooth is more cunning than you know!" ->beware]] [["Yes, Father." ->yesFatherTKNV]]

You father may be old, but even in shock his mind is swift. As he glances back at Sir Raddibore, you see the thunderclouds gather. "Arrest the traitor!" he commands. The soldiers look at one another uncertainly. But Yellowtooth has gathered his wits also. "It's just as I warned you all!" he shouts. "An impersonator, come to take advantage of the King's grief." "What are you waiting for?" demands Raddibore. "You heard the King! Kill the traitor!" He points at you. The guards lower their pikes to attack. King Torveld stands over you protectively. "Stop!" he thunders. "The King is confused! Quick, protect him!" yells Raddibore. "I'll do it myself." You see the flash of silver in his hand as he runs toward you and Torveld. You have only a split-second to dodge. [[Dodge. ->dodgeKing]] [[Draw your sword. ->standGround]]

As you wrest your sword from its sheath, you see the silvery dagger slash downward, but not at you. King Torveld turns, roaring in anger, as the blade hurtles toward him. (set: $torveldLives to 1) Without thinking, you slam your sword upward. The dagger flies from Raddibore's hand, skating across the stones. The watching soldiers gasp and yell in surprise, starting toward you. "You saw that!" yells Raddibore, staggering back. "She tried to murder the King! Disarm her!" "*You* tried to murder me!" shouts the King. (if: $data's toldT is 0)[(display: "insurrection")](else:)[(display:"radAttacksYou")]

You leap out from beneath just as Raddibore looms over you. The King turns, roaring in anger. The silvery dagger slashes downward, but not at you. Torveld gasps, clutching at his stomach. Red wells between his fingers, trailing across the ermine robes like a sudden, wild spray of flowers. He topples forward. You catch him in your arms and lower him gently to the ground. Suddenly nothing matters but to hold him. His face is grey. "Seline..." he murmurs, gazing at you. He whispers something more, but his words are swallowed by a harsh gurgling sound. He coughs faintly. "I wanted to tell you..." He says nothing more. After a moment, you realize that he's no longer looking at you, nor at anything in this world. You sit there, frozen. It's too sudden, too much to comprehend. And you feel stupidly, overwhelmingly furious that he didn't get to finish that sentence. Then you hear Raddibore yell. "She's murdered the King! Quick! Kill the assassin!" [[Run. ->runAway]] (if: $data's toldT is 0)[[["It was him! Sir Raddibore stabbed the King!" ->itWasHim]]](else:)[[["It was him! Sir Raddibore stabbed the King!" ->radAttacksYou]]]

As you flee along the narrow street, you glimpse Rain fighting his way toward you. (display: "riots")

"She's lying! Kill her!" howls Raddibore. The guards look at one another. Then they advance on you, pikes lowered to strike. Behind them, you glimpse Rain fighting through the army toward you. (display: "riots")

Rain snatches up the bridle of the fallen knight's horse and hands it to you. You leap to his back(if: $gotKing is 0)[.](else:)[; Andreas hoists your father onto his own horse, then climbs up behind him. You realise why when you see how the King's body slumps. He's unconscious.] "Go!" yells Rain. [[Go. ->go]]

Andreas bites back a curse, glancing back at the pile of bodies now surrounding His Majesty. "Seriously, Seline? I actually thought we were done stealing royalty." (set: $gotKing to 1) Dismounting, he and Rain charge into the fray, swords gleaming. They slash their way into the huddle around the King. The storm of blades moves too fast to follow, but you see men falling before them. The russet dog leaps and snaps at their sides. Then Rains emerges with the King upon his back and Andreas defending his flanks. They dash toward you. (display: "runAwayKing")

A murmur rises from the windows above. It grows to a cheer. The commoners are cheering your father's death. You hear insults shouted. Rotten fruit starts to land upon the street, then rocks. The guards yell and wave their pikes, but the voices of the mob drown them out. Two guards face you, pikes ready. You grip your sword with both hands, but there's no way you can get close to them. Instead, you're forced backward to avoid the viciously pointed blades. As you retreat, you see other men pouring onto the street. None of them wear insignia, but their blades gleam as they fall upon Torveld's men. Then you hear a shout, and the thunder of hooves at a gallop. An armored rider on a tall buckskin mare bursts through, curved blade flashing in the lamplight. Others follow. The guards look round -- too late. The saber slams through one man's neck, sending the bright blood arcing, then crunches against the second man's mail, hurling him into the gutter. The rider pulls up beside you. Behind the helm's shadow, Andreas's dark eyes blaze. "We must flee, highness." "Seline!" Rain calls from behind him. "Let's go!" (display: "runAwayKing")

Less creepy conversation with Morael #Persistent variables Seline meets Morael in woods Andreas knows Everyone knows about Andreas Seline marry Rain Kiaru loses Seline loses

The guards march you up the main street, between tall, narrow, terraces with brightly painted facades and lace-railed balconies. Their lower floors are shops, dark and shuttered now. In some, you catch glimpses of candlelight in the upper stories. In others, the shutters have been torn off their hinges, and the windswept rain puddles inside among broken furniture and goods. The buildings here are wider, their facades decorated with elaborate tiled frescoes. Manicured plants bloom in large ceramic pots. Ahead, the road rises into a great bridge guarded by stone lions. Up on the bridge, the cold wind catches in your hair, driving the rain inside your clothes. The river rushes below, steel-grey and opaque. On the other side, you see the gold-domed palace, massive yet graceful, its tall columns spiraling skywards like shoots yearning for sun. But you are not taken to the palace. even the palace is dark, but for a few curtained windows. You half expect to be taken there, but your captors turn away from it. Instead you are marched back across the great stone bridge, past its guardian lions. They lead you down a stairway by the riverside, into a dank rough-walled tunnel. Two days later a messenger informed us that King Estevan of Saragai had passed away." "Have you ever experienced a severe wound? Do you know how there is a moment when you understand what has happened, and that the pain will be terrible, and yet you feel nothing? Do you know how that moment lasts not even a full second, but it seems forever? How the waiting is more unbearable than agony? I keep waiting for the pain, Seline, and it does not answer. I almost crave it..." "King Torveld plans a ceremony tomorrow in the square before the Palace to crown my cousin, young Sir Pristan, King of Saragai. The boy will be king in name only; Yellowtooth's army will remain stationed here. Officially, they're here in friendship to support the young King, but in reality, they're an occupying force ready to slit his throat the moment he shows himself as anything but a puppet."

radchat -> morael -> torchat -> estchat -> square ->Isholme saved -> fail: Isholme falls -> imprisoned with Nyora, Isholme falls -> escape with princes +/- Tor -> stay with Tor -> estchat -> square ->Isholme saved -> fail: Isholme falls torchat -> morael -> torchat -> estchat -> square ->Isholme saved -> fail: Isholme falls -> imprisoned with Nyora, Isholme falls -> escape with princes +/- Tor -> stay with Tor -> estchat -> square ->Isholme saved -> fail: Isholme falls nochat -> morael -> estchat -> square ->Isholme falls -> escape with princes +/- Tor -> stay with Tor Key variables: - Seline knows Rad's plans? Yes - she may save Isholme. No - Ishome falls. - Seline convinces Est about Rad's plans? Yes - she saves Isholme. No - Isholme falls. - Torveld convinced that Rad is a traitor? Yes - he executes Rad. No - if Isholme falls Rad deposes him & Seline may rescue him while fleeing. - Seline tells Torveld about Nyora? Yes - he imprisons them both. No - Nyora frees Seline. Endings (1) Isholme falls. (1a) If she has not convinced Torveld of Raddibore's treachery, Raddibore will then depose Torveld. Seline flees with Nyora and the Princes of Saragai (and perhaps Torveld, who is otherwise killed). (1b) Otherwise, Torveld plans to execute the Princes; Seline can join Andreas in freeing them, and flee with them, or (1c) remain as Crown Princess and inherit both lands. (2) Isholme stands. Seline helps Torveld and Estevan negotiate a treaty. She may wed one of the Princes.

In Chapter 16, Seline goes alone to try to find her father, or into Isholme. If she goes to Isholme, she tries to tell Estevan about Yellowtooth's plans. If she goes to find her father, she is trapped by Raddibore. Either way, she ends up imprisoned overnight. If she fails to convince Estevan, Leviathan sinks. That night, Raddibore may be killed by vampire Morael. Next day, Seline is about to be executed by Saragai, but is freed by Andreas as Torveld conquers Isholme. That evening, the people gather in the square to witness Saragai's surrender. Either (1) Vampire Morael appears and kidnaps Seline or (2) Raddibore tries to kill Torveld. Seline may kill him and Torveld wins, or she may flee with Torveld and Raddibore wins. If she convinces Estevan, he saves Isholme. That night, Raddibore may be killed by vampire Morael, who afterwards visits Seline in her room and asks her to marry him. Next day, the Kings meet under a flag of truce. If Raddibore is alive and Torveld knows he is a traitor, Torveld executes him. Otherwise he may try to kill Torveld. DAY 1: Leviathan sinks? NIGHT 1: Seline trapped. Raddibore dies & Morael visits? DAY 2: Estevan dies & Isholme falls? Seline rescued from burning? NIGHT 2: Kings meet. Morael kidnaps Seline? Raddibore kills Torveld? Seline kills Raddibore? Treaty made.

With the princes of Saragai at your side, you gallop away through the encampment. (if: $gotKing is 1)[A strange elation pulses in you. You've lost everything - your inheritance is gone, your ambitions in tatters, and your very existence denied. You're fleeing into exile. And yet, as you glance around at your companions, a part of you welcomes this fate. The people who matter most to you are alive - and most of them are right here beside you. *You're* alive. And who wants to be a Queen anyway?](else:)[Fury wells in you, warming you like fire. You've lost everything - your inheritance is gone, your ambitions in tatters, your father murdered and your very existence denied. Yellowtooth has won. You're fleeing into exile. And yet, as you glance around at your companions, you feel a sudden certainty. One day, you will undo this evil. Not today, perhaps not for many years. But the heirs of Saragai and Thronheim stand united as never before. Together, you will reclaim your homelands and avenge your fathers.] As you leave the encampment, the first rays of the rising sun touch the golden dome of Isholme's palace. Behind you, all is chaos still; arrows fly seemingly at random in the grey shadows. Yet you and your companions pass the last outpost untouched, galloping down the road toward the mountains, toward a kind of freedom you never anticipated. THE END. (display: "THE END")

"Ah, but *I'm* more cunning than *you* know. Have a little faith, child!" (display: "yesFatherTKNV")

He grins raggedly at you, and winks. Then he draws himself up. As he glances back at Sir Raddibore, you see the thunderclouds gather. "Arrest the traitor!" he commands. The soldiers march up to Yellowtooth without hesitation. The old general starts to babble. "It's just as I warned you all!" he shouts. "An impersonator, come to take advantage of the King's grief. Stop her! Kill the traitor!" As the soldiers close in, he bolts, shouting, "I'll do it myself!" You see the flash of steel in his hand as he hurtles toward you and Torveld. [[Dodge. ->dodgeKing]] [[Draw your sword. ->standGround]]

"Arrest Sir --" but he gets no further. Two rough-looking men in unmarked armor leap upon him; the knights spur their horses to tackle them. Two turn toward you, pikes ready. You grip your sword with both hands, but there's no way you can get close to them. Instead, you're forced backward to avoid the viciously pointed blades. As you retreat, you see more men pouring into the street. None of them wear insignia, but their blades gleam as they surround the knot of henchmen around Torveld. Then you hear a shout, and the thunder of hooves at a gallop. Andreas bursts through on the buckskin mare, curved blade flashing, red hound at his side. The knights look round -- too late. The russet dog leaps. His jaws tear through one man's neck, sending the bright blood arcing, even as Andreas's blade crunches against the second man's mail. The man tumbles to the ground. Andreas reins in beside you. Behind the helm's shadow, dark eyes flash. "Must I kidnap you *again*, Highness?" "Seline! Let's get out of here!" Rain calls from behind. Relief swells your heart. He's bruised and bloody, but he's able to ride. [[Run. ->runAwayKing]] [["No! We have to save my father! Raddibore will kill him!" ->saveTheKing]]

The guards pay you no mind as you flee into the crowd. You turn, panting, to see them converge on Raddibore, swords flashing. He screams horribly, for a long time. At last the guards stand back. Two bodies lie crumpled and still on the bloody dais.

King Torveld's guards dash toward Raddibore, who hesitates, staring wildly around as they close in from all sides. "No, stop! You don't understand! It was her!" Eyes bulging with terror, Raddibore turns back to you, plump hands extended. His face is a mask of malicious desperation. "You won't live to see me hang, bitch!" Grimly, you ready your sword. [["Surrender, Raddibore! You don't stand a chance!" ->surrenderTraitor]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"):"I'll settle for seeing your entrails now, traitor!" ->entrailsTraitor]]

"Never! Everything I've ever done was for Thronheim! And so is this!" (display: "entrailsTraitor")

He runs toward you. (display: "dice")(set: $data's fight to it + 1) (if: $success is true)[Almost by reflex, your sword chops downward. It scrapes against bone, then sinks deeper below. Raddibore screams, tumbling backward, a line of red opening from chest to belly. He crumples to the ground, hands flailing against the (if: $data's savedSaragai is 1)[dirt floor](else:)[cobbles]. His body jerks feebly, and his movements grow sluggish as the blood pools around him. (if: $savedSaragai is 0)[(display: "takeCharge")](elseif: $torveldLives is 0)[(display: "takeCharge")](else:)[(display: ""afterFight)]](else:)[]

The crown of Thronheim has rolled to one side. (if: $torveldLives is 1)[You pick it up and hand it back to Torveld. It's spattered with gore. He puts it on anyway. THE END [[Epilogue ->EpilogueTLives]]](else:)[Head bowed, one of the guards picks it up and hands it to you. It's spattered with gore. Nobody seems certain what to do next. Somebody has to take charge. [[Put on the crown. ->wearCrown]]]

Morael stares at you for a long time, as if his gaze can pierce your soul. His tone is still soft and dead. "Did you? Did you *really* try?" [["I could have tried harder. I'm sorry, Morael. I swear, I never wanted it to come to this." ->couldHaveTried]] [["Of course! I swear I did everything I could to save Saragai!" ->swear]]

"The Sorcerer saw it. He knew I was unworthy. A blade untempered. Did you not wonder why he thought Andreas would make a better king than I? I did... and in my arrogance I cursed him. But he was right. So he arranged it thus. I could remain a dog forever. Or be transmuted by fire into something less brittle..." [["Transmuted... what do you mean?" ->transmuted]]

"Look closer, Seline." Keeping his sword at Torveld's throat, he moves nearer to the light. You gasp. His skin is pale, the tan drained away, yet beautiful, almost translucent. And his eyes are pure gold. "Touch me." He takes your hand and places it against his cheek. He's ice-cold. He moves your fingers between his lips. You feel teeth, but no breath, no warmth. The eye-tooth is a needle-sharp fang. "Now you understand," he says. "For this the Sorcerer spared me." [["For *this*?" ->vampireKing]] [["He wanted a vampire king? But why?" ->vampKing2]]

At that he laughs, and you clearly see the long, arching fangs. "Ah, Seline. Did you truly think that? No, I came here to *kill*." [["Morael... this isn't you... you're better than this." ->betterMorael]] [["Your own people will destroy you when they see what you've become." ->peopleHateVamps]]

"Better? The man I was would have sworn himself and his countrymen into servitude, and told himself it was *better*. No. You'll never own us, Seline. Death first. Death to you, and all your kind." [["But Morael, you can't win this! Even if you kill me and my father, your nation will still be in tatters. You have no army, your capital is being looted and burned as we speak. Chaos in Thronheim will just make more chaos here. Face it, Morael. You've lost." ->softLookUp]] [["Your own people will destroy you when they see what you've become." ->peopleHateVamps]] [["Morael... this is all my fault. I'm sorry! I still don't know how it happened, but if it's another curse of the Sorcerer, maybe we can fix it. There has to be a way!" ->fixVamp]]

You take the grand road winding up the hill, arriving at last at the grand square below the gold-domed palace. A half-burned pyre stands near the centre of the square, its edges trampled and scattered. Nobody is visible, but a curtain twitches here and there in an upper storey window, and you glimpse movement in the rooftops, gone before you can focus on it. Your spine prickles. The palace doors creak open, and a line of Saragaian guards trudge out. You turn to meet them. They lay their weapons at Torveld's feet and kneel. As Torveld's army masses in the square, a page boy appears. "The King of Saragai!" he announces, thin voice piping on the wind. You wait, gazing toward the palace doors. Behind you, the orchestra strikes up a triumphant theme. Another form appears in the doorway. The light behind him glows fiery in his hair and glitters on the golden crown, but his face and body are in shadow. Head bowed in grief, he still moves like a weary god. You'd know him anywhere. Your friend, defeated. But alive and in human form - can it be true? Did your attempt succeed? King Torveld gasps. "*Morael*? But he's - he's supposed to be - ". Hidden behind windows and doors, a crowd erupts in cheers, obliterating your father's voice. All eyes are on Morael, but he does not look up, despite the roar of the crowd. He strides toward Torveld. You notice a sharpened stick - perhaps an old gardening stake - protruding from the remnants of the pyre. [[Get the stake. ->getStake]] [[Step in front of Torveld. ->moraelApproaches]]

He nods, blade held steady. "When I was a man, my heart was always divided, torn between need and right. I strove constantly to reconcile them. That was sophistry, Seline! Now my heart is still, my conscience silent, and I am ...free. Free to rule. I believe that was the Sorcerer's intent." [["But you came here to surrender. Didn't you?" ->hereToSurrender]] [["I guess having an immortal and super-powered ruler could stabilize the realm. I mean, assuming your people don't stake you in the night." ->peopleHateVamps]]

His eyes narrow. "And then you and all the line of Thronheim shall be extinguished, dying one by one in terror in the night. Do you think you can protect yourself from *me*, Seline? Do you know what I am?" [["Morael, I tried to stop this! I never wanted to win this war!" ->moraelNo]] [["Yes, I know. And that is why I cannot permit you to live." ->moraelMustDie]] [["I'm not entirely sure, actually." ->transmuted]]

"I know," he replies, still speaking in that soft, dead tone. "But what has been done to me... to my people... I understand at last what I am meant to be. I was a fool, Seline. I was a fool until the day I died." [["What do you mean?" ->whatMorael]] [["The day you died? Morael, you're not dead!" ->transmuted]]

Is that a flicker of remorse in his eyes, or just the glitter of flame? His voice is as cold as ever. "You failed, Seline. Seek absolution elsewhere." [["Morael, what else could I do? I couldn't even get into Isholme!" ->couldnt]] [["I'm not looking for absolution, Morael. I just want you to understand. This ends here. I cannot permit you to live." ->moraelMustDie]]

For the first time, something like a smile flickers across his lips. It is not comforting. "I was a fool, Seline. I was a fool until the day I died. But now I am ready." [["What do you mean?" ->whatMorael]] [["The day you died? Morael, you're not dead!" ->transmuted]]

It's cold and heavy on your head. You raise your eyes and stand tall and proud, surveying your subjects with stern eyes. They bow their heads and fall silent, awaiting your command. THE END [[Epilogue ->EpilogueTDead]]

He snorts. "Do you still think that you can challenge me? Then you do *not* understand." (display: "transmuted")

"Think carefully, Seline. You shall get no other chance, and it is not your fate alone you decide." His yellow gaze sweeps icily over your father's men, who are bunched nervously in the center of the square with Saragai's army looming on all sides. [["Do your worst, Morael. We will never submit to the rule of a vampire!" ->neverYield]] [["It seems I have no choice but to agree." ->agreedMarryMorael]]

"Perhaps they would, in a different time." His grin is sharp as broken glass. "But right now, they understand what they truly need. A soft and human king is all very well in peacetime. But now? Now they see their hero return with superhuman gifts and a will of steel, striking terror into their foes. I may be a monster, Seline, but I'm *their* monster." [["But Morael, you can't win this! Even if you kill me and my father, your nation will still be in tatters. You have no army, your capital is being looted and burned as we speak. Chaos in Thronheim will just make more chaos here. Face it, Morael. You've lost." ->softLookUp]] [["Morael... this is all my fault. I'm sorry! I still don't know how it happened, but if it's another curse of the Sorcerer, maybe we can fix it. There has to be a way!" ->fixVamp]]

He laughs. "Strangely, that fact no longer troubles me." [["Forget it, Morael. You don't get to bully us just because you're an immortal predator with supernatural powers now!" ->noBully]] [["But why not let me marry Rain? Wouldn't it be better for you? Why share your power? You can rule Saragai alone, and Rain's children will inherit Thronheim." ->ruleAlone]]

"Because I like you, Seline." He licks his lips. "Also, I don't trust you. Rain's not strong enough to keep you in check. So I think it's best you stay here with me, and Rain can serve as my viceroy in Thronheim. He's well-liked in Stelgarte, isn't he?" [["Yes, but..." ->yesBut]] [["No! Thronheim shall not yield to you, you foul, undead demon! And neither shall I!" ->noBully]]

"And yet you failed. Seline, your weakness is my strength. Do you not see what you have made me?" [["Yes, I see what you are. And that is why I cannot permit you to live." ->moraelMustDie]] [["I'm not entirely sure, actually." ->transmuted]]

He nods, blade held steady. "A king untouched by conscience or fear, freed from human shame - for what shame could compare to my daily thirst? A King of enduring power, fearsome abilities and ruthless action." [["I guess having an immortal and super-powered ruler could stabilize the realm. I mean, assuming your people don't stake you in the night." ->peopleHateVamps]] [["Except you came here to surrender. Didn't you?" ->hereToSurrender]] [["Morael... this is all my fault. I'm sorry! I still don't know how it happened, but if it's another curse of the Sorcerer, maybe we can fix it. There has to be a way!" ->fixVamp]]

Abruptly, Morael releases Torveld and steps back. The old man staggers to his feet, red-faced, gasping for breath, staring at you incredulously. "You *love* him?" Your father's voice drops to a whisper. "Seline... why? Why would you spite me thus?" [["It's not spite, Father. It's not about you! It's about the future of our nations, and the friendship between us, and... and love!" ->notSpite2]] [["Father, please! Don't you understand? It's the only way!" ->onlyWay]]

You father's face softens slightly. "Love," he murmurs. "You idiot..." He gazes into your eyes, but he is, as ever, blind to your feelings. "Seline... all I ever wished for was your happiness. If that means accepting this man..." (set: $torveldLives to 1) Morael surveys the scene. His fangs gleam. "Do we have your blessing, Torveld?" Torveld bows his head. Morael's grin widens. Out loud he says, "Don't be concerned, *father*. It will be a beautiful wedding." His cold hand slides around your wrist. You feel the nails run lightly along the artery. His next words are pitched for you alone. "As for what happens after..." (display: "freezeTone")

You dart to one side to pick up the sharp stake and tuck it under your clothes. Just in case. (set: $stake to 1) When you look up, Morael stands before your father. You wait for him to kneel. He doesn't. His eyes slide sideways to meet yours. It's not only the cold in them that chills your blood. Even by lamplight, he's pale as the moon, and his eyes gleam yellow. Nor do you read submission in those eyes, only the patience of a wild beast. "Seline," says Morael softly. His voice is strangely musical, replete with unnatural harmonies. "You understand what happens next, don't you?" [["No! What are you doing?" ->mustKneel]] [["You must kneel before my father, Morael. It's the only way!" ->mustKneel]]

As you approach the dais, trumpets blare. A line of Saragaian knights is already assembled there. Now six Thronheim soldiers march up in full ceremonial dress. They move slowly, sombrely carrying a tall white flag that flutters weakly in the wind. Sir Raddibore walks behind them. He looks exhausted and grim, leaning heavily upon a cane. A second fanfare plays, brief and correct. "King Torveld of Thronheim!" shouts a page boy. The King trots up, mounted on a snow-white war-horse whose flowing mane and tail are braided with gold ribbons. The King's robes are purple velvet, trimmed in gold and ermine. His grey locks are neatly pinned behind the heavy crown of Thronheim. He dismounts and paces slowly but with great dignity toward the dais. As he approaches, you notice the deep lines of his face, the sagging cheek-pockets and greying flesh. Indeed, he looks a decade older. You feel a pang. No matter how much you hate his recent choices, he's still your father.

(display: "dice") Tears blur your eyes. Your *friend* holds you tightly, mercilessly. No. Your friend is dead. Your friend would never do this. What is here... is only a monstrous demon violating his corpse. Your fingers feel for the wood beneath your cloak, grip until your knuckles whiten. You squeeze closed your eyes, shutting out the blurred image of your friend's body. You still know his scent. Eyes still on the crowd, he lowers his lips to your throat. His kiss is ice. (if: $success is true)[You slam the sharpened stake deep into his chest. He does not cry out. He staggers, and his hands release you. You step backward. His golden eyes drop to the wooden spike, then rise to meet yours. A half-smile crosses his lips. "So that's how it ends," he murmurs, his voice no louder than the whispering wind. He falls to his knees. Something beyond you seems to draw his gaze, and a look of wonder crosses his face. A web of tiny cracks writhes across his face, slender as spider-silk. They widen and, before you can draw breath, he crumbles into dust. (if: $torveldLives is 1)["Seline!" your father rushes to your side.] All around, you hear a rising cacophony: the clash of swords and thrum of bowstrings, shouts and the cries of dying men. The two armies are turning on each other. But all you can do is stare through tears at the small pile of rubble that was once Prince Morael of Saragai. [[Continue. ->continue]]](else:)[You slam the sharpened stake - as his grip become iron-hard, twisting your arms helplessly backward. Bones snap, and the stake tumbles from your suddenly numb fingers. You writhe desperately, but your struggles just make him grip you tighter. His cloak swirls around you like a dark vortex, dragging you away from everything and everyone you've ever loved. His fangs, sharp and clean and cold as a promise, touch your jugular, then penetrate. The agony is dizzying, paralyzing, euphoric, exquisite. Somewhere in the growing darkness, you try to scream, but no sound escapes. THE END (if: $aDead is 0)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMVampWins]]](else:)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMVampWinsADead]]]]

Eyes still on the crowd, he lowers his lips to your throat. His kiss is ice. Your struggles just make him grip you tighter. His cloak swirls around you like a dark vortex, dragging you away from everything and everyone you've ever loved. His fangs, sharp and clean and cold as a promise, touch your jugular. The agony is dizzying, paralyzing, euphoric, exquisite. Somewhere in the growing darkness, you try to scream, but no sound escapes. THE END (if: $aDead is 0)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMVampWins]]](else:)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMVampWinsADead]]]

---------- (display: "skills") <script>window.StrayHeirs.createChapter(19)</script>(print: "<a href=\"ch19.html\">Chapter 19</a>")

Ignoring the hubbub, Morael walks toward you. He does not raise his eyes to yours until he's at the bottom of the stairs, just a few feet away. When he does, it's not only the cold in them that chills your blood. Even by lamplight, he's pale as the moon, and his eyes gleam yellow. Nor do you read submission in those eyes, only the patience of a wild beast, even as he drops to his knees and lowers ice-cold lips to touch your hand. His nostrils flare above the pulsing vein, the half-healed cut. He hesitates. Then he looks up at you again, pupils dilated. "Seline," says Morael softly. His voice is strangely musical, replete with unnatural harmonies. "Stand aside." [["No." ->noStandAside]] [["What are you doing?" ->mustKneel]]

You drop to your knees at King Torveld's feet. A second rider gallops up behind. Yellowtooth swings down from his horse, dagger in hand. "It's an assassin! Stop her!" Two of the knights raise their bows. "Don't shoot!" Torveld barks. He stares down at you, wide-eyed. "Se... Seline? No! It can't be!" "It's an impersonator! Kill her!" yells Raddibore. The King leans down, offering a veined and callused hand to pull you to your feet, all the time staring into your eyes. He keeps hold of your hand, and you feel him shaking. "Well, I'll be... my eyesight isn't what it was, but I'd know that voice anywhere. The way you move, the feel of your hand... it's you. It has to be you. What strange enchantment is this?" [["No enchantment, Father. Sir Raddibore lied to you!" ->noEnchantmentTIgNV]] [["It's just me, Seline. I've come back to you, Father!" ->itsSeline]]

Estevan inclines his head. "That is fairly spoken, child. I will speak no further ill of the dead. And I owe you a great debt for thwarting the traitorous plan that would have led to the fall of Isholme. Therefore I welcome you to my home and name you friend of Saragai. Please, allow my men to gather up the bodies. Your father shall be sent upon his last journey with full honors of the state. As for the traitor Raddibore, I shall have his carcass burned." [["Thank you, Sire." ->thanksEstevan]]

Tears blur your gaze as Estevan's men join with your own soldiers. They lift your father's body to a stretcher, covered in cloth of purple silk, and carry him gently into the palace. Your heart aches, watching them. He was such a fool. Full of hate and bombast. And yet he was *also* your father. The only parent you really remember. What you felt for him was deeper, colder than love; you cannot disentangle *him* from *you*, and now he's gone, reduced to memories and stories soon to blow away on the wind, and so is part of you. Why? The question is as meaningless as the answer. You squeeze your eyes shut. A painful hardness rises in your throat. You want to crumble, but you hold your back stiff, refusing to sacrifice your family's dignity. He wouldn't have wanted you to cry. You feel a warm arm around your shoulders. "It's okay," Rain tells you. "We can go inside now." Slowly, laboriously, you ascend the stairs into the Palace. THE END.

The flames lick higher and higher. The heat is growing unbearable. The small hairs on your legs start to curl. You tug again, desperately, futilely, at the knots that bind your hands. They only tighten. But there's a disruption in the street below the square. Hooves clatter. People yell and curse as they're shoved aside. The buckskin mare clears the cordon in a leap and gallops straight toward the pyre. Her rider, dark hair flying in the wind, pulls her up next to you. His sword sings as he rips it from the sheath; the mare rears, hooves lashing wildly. The rider slashes at the bonfire, scattering coals and half-charred logs as the mare dances in a circle, crushing them beneath her hooves. Andreas's eyes flash with grim determination as the ropes fall away from your hands. He tosses you a short sword; you cut free your ankles and take his calloused hand. "Come, Highness! Let's get out of here before these people realize what's happening." You vault to the mare's saddle behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. With fluid grace, the mare widens her arc to plunge away. "Hold on!" snarls Andreas. Gravity deserts you as the mare rises to leap the cordon once more; then she strikes the cobbles heavily, almost jarring you from your seat. The crowd, finally realizing that this is a rescue, begin to clammer and yell angrily, though nobody is foolish enough to stand in the way of the galloping mare. But as you hurtle along the street, hoof-beats approach from the opposite direction. Andreas swears. The mare wheels. But the road ends at the square; you're trapped. The crowd yells and cheers as the mare slows. She rears again, screaming furiously. Then a troop of knights rounds the corner at a fast, orderly trot. Their pennants unfurl in the breeze, revealing Thronheim's red lion. Relief washes over you, dizzying in intensity. The crowd falls back, fleeing. Andreas lifts you down from the horse. "Go," he murmurs. You stand transfixed, staring up at the knights in their silver armor, their faces invisible behind metal visors. Then, from near the back, one dismounts a snow-white war-horse. He moves slowly, wearily, plodding toward you. He stands, staring at you, for a long time. Then he removes his helmet.

But there's a disruption in the street below the square. Hooves clatter. People yell and curse as they're shoved aside. The buckskin mare clears the cordon in a leap and gallops straight toward the pyre. Her rider, dark hair flying in the wind, pulls her up next to you. His sword sings as he rips it from the sheath; the mare rears, hooves lashing wildly. The rider slashes at the bonfire, scattering coals and half-charred logs as the mare dances in a circle, crushing them beneath her hooves. Andreas's eyes flash with fierce joy as the ropes fall away. He reaches out a calloused hand, grinning viciously. "Come, Highness! Let's get out of here before these people realize what's happening." You vault to the mare's saddle behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. With fluid grace, the mare widens her arc to plunge away. "Hold on!" snarls Andreas. Gravity deserts you as the mare rises to leap the cordon once more; then she strikes the cobbles heavily, almost jarring you from your seat. The crowd, starting to realize that this is a rescue, begin to clammer and yell angrily, though nobody is foolish enough to stand in the way of the galloping mare. But as you hurtle along the street, hoof-beats approach from the opposite direction. A group of Saragaian guards. They fan out, blocking your path. Andreas swears. The mare wheels. But the road ends at the square; you're trapped. The crowd yells and cheers as the mare slows. "Hold on again," mutters Andreas grimly. Abruptly, he pulls sideways on the reins, hauling the mare toward a precipitous staircase. The mare twists, snorting in protest. Her ears are flat against her head, her eyes white with fear. Leaning forward, Andreas whispers to her. The mare tosses her head, paws the ground, and plunges down the stairs. You lean backward, desperately clinging to Andreas's waist as the mare jolts unevenly downward. Every step almost throws you. It seems impossible that she cannot fall. But she's fast, and sure-footed. In moments, the crowd in the square is left behind, and the guards with them. At last Andreas lets the mare slow when the stairs flatten to cross a wide road. The street seems empty, but you still hear distant screams and the clash of weapons. The mare's hooves clop loudly against the stones. As you pass a row of high-walled terraces, Andreas turns her suddenly, heading beneath a flower-covered archway into a lush private garden. You halt by the verandah and slither numbly to the ground. "You found her!" Tertia flings her arms around you, grinning from ear to ear. Rain follows, azure eyes aglow with joy. Even Nyora smiles at you.

You are close enough to see the deep lines of his face, the sagging cheek-pockets and greying flesh. Indeed, he looks a decade older. No matter how much you hate his recent choices, he's still your... (set: $canundo to true) (if: $data's vampire is 1)[(if: $data's toldT is 0)[[["Father!" ->fatherVampTIgSF]]](else:)[[["Father!" ->fatherVampTKSF]]]](else:)[(if: $data's toldT is 0)[[["Father!" ->TIgNVSF]]](else:)[[["Father!" ->TKNVSF]]]]

The sun is gone, and the first stars gleam softly in a velvet sky. A row of lanterns illuminates the great square, which is now decorated with bright streamers and flags. It's swarming with commoners, whose mood seems cheerful. Despite the hood shadowing your face, their eyes follow you, and you hear a titter of gossip as you walk arm in arm with Prince Morael and Prince Rain. In front of the palace steps, a dais has been erected with crimson carpet. A large golden chair stands at its center, with smaller and plainer ones on either side. (if: $data's vampire is 1)[(display: "toDaisVSS")](else:)[(display: "toDaisNVSS")]

"There were fang-marks on his throat! And his blood was ...gone..." [["Are you saying it was a *vampire*?" ->vampireKilledRad]] [["Weird. But anyway, I can't say I'm sorry he's dead." ->deadRad]]

He shakes his head. "It seems absurd, doesn't it? But what else could do such a thing? And now, seeing you here again..." (display: "heardVamp")

"Dead as a doornail." Your father's tone is turgid with vindictive satisfaction. "And now, you have returned to me, my dearest child..." (display: "heardVamp")

He stares down at you, wide-eyed. "Se... Seline? No! It can't be!" The King leans down, offering a veined and callused hand to pull you to your feet, all the time staring into your eyes. He keeps hold of your hand, and you feel him shaking. "Well, I'll be... my eyesight isn't what it was, but I'd know that voice anywhere. The way you move, the feel of your hand... it's you. It has to be you. What strange enchantment is this?" [["No enchantment, Father. Sir Raddibore lied to you!" ->noEnchantmentVTIg]] [["It's just me, Seline. I've come back to you, Father!" ->itsSelineVTIg]]

"He ...*lied*? But why? Are you saying he was a traitor? Seline, none of this makes sense." [["Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->heardVamp]] [["*Was*? Is he gone?" ->radGoneVTIg]]

He snorts. "Seline... Seline left me. Ran off with a Saragaian pup who murdered her for sport." Tears well in the rheumy old eyes. "This is just a dream, isn't it?" [["Father, no! This is real. Sir Raddibore lied to you!" ->noEnchantmentVTIg]] [["Pull yourself together, Father. Sir Raddibore betrayed you! He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->noEnchantmentVTIg]]

The King shakes his grey locks as if to clear his head. "This is too much, Seline! You shall have to tell me the whole story later - until I saw your face, the whole world was a graveyard to me. Victory gave me no joy. (if: $data's toldT is 0)[ Now, my heart overflows, and you tell me I must hate the friend I mourn?](else:)[ My only hope was that you might yet return to me again. Now, my heart overflows.] Oh, let me just embrace you!" His sinewy old arms wrap tightly around you, and he buries his face in your hair. "Oh, Seline, you have no idea..." Sobs wrench his body. Then he controls himself, wiping his eyes and pushing you to arms-length. He gestures to one of his knights. "Escort the Princess back to our encampment. Let none speak of her return. And keep her *securely* this time." Your protests go unnoticed. You are dragged back to the camp and installed in a sweaty-smelling tent. Three days pass in utter boredom; your guards are taciturn, and your father does not call upon you. You learn that the plan has succeeded: King Estevan is dead, the *Leviathan* sunk and the gates of Isholme opened. Yet the expected surrender does not come; instead, bitter fighting ensues upon the streets, as if the loss of their King only hardened the enemy's resolve. The stench of unburied corpses grows steadily stronger. At last your father summons you. [[Go. ->won]]

His voice drops to a whisper. "It's the strangest thing, lass. Last night... something came into his room and - *drained* him..." His voice shudders. "We were all in shock... But what did you mean, he lied to me?" [["Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->heardVamp]] [["Drained him? What do you mean?" ->whatDrainedVTIg]]

"There were fang-marks on his throat! And his blood was ...gone..." [["Are you saying it was a *vampire*?" ->vampireKilledRadVTIg]] [["Weird. But anyway, I can't say I'm sorry he's dead. Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->heardVamp]]

He shakes his head. "It seems absurd, doesn't it? But what else could do such a thing? And now, seeing you here again..." (display: "radTraitorVTIgSF")

He stares down at you, wide-eyed. "Se... Seline? No! It can't be!" The King holds out a veined and callused hand, staring into your eyes. When you grip it, you feel him shaking. "Well, I'll be... my eyesight isn't what it was, but I'd know that voice anywhere. The way you move, the feel of your hand... it's you. It has to be you. What strange enchantment is this?" [["No enchantment, Father. Sir Raddibore lied to you!" ->noEnchantmentVTIgSS]] [["It's just me, Seline. I've come back to you, Father!" ->itsSelineVTIgSS]]

A slow grin spreads across his ancient face. "So... you really did come back to me? I half-thought it a dream." The King leans down, offering a veined and callused hand to pull you to your feet, all the time staring into your eyes. He keeps hold of your hand, and you feel him shaking. His voice drops to a whisper. (if: $data's vampire is 1)["It's the strangest thing, lass. You were right about Yellowtooth. I meant to execute him. But last night... something came into his room and - *drained* him..." He shudders. [["Drained him? What do you mean?" ->whatDrainedVTKSS]] [["I heard." ->kingCries]]](else:)["Turns out you were right about Yellowtooth, lass. I mean to have him executed, but I'm biding my time, see?" [["Biding your time? Dad, he's a snake! You have to get rid of him!" ->snakeYellowtooth]] [["Okay, but be careful, won't you?" ->kingCries]]]

"There were fang-marks on his throat! And his blood was ...gone..." [["Are you saying it was a *vampire*?" ->vampireKilledRadVTKSS]] [["Weird. But anyway, I can't say I'm sorry he's dead." ->deadRadVTKSS]]

He shakes his head. "It seems absurd, doesn't it? But what else could do such a thing? And now, seeing you here again..." (display: "kingCries")

"Dead as a doornail." Your father's tone is turgid with vindictive satisfaction. "And now, you have returned to me, my dearest child..." (display: "kingCries")

"He ...*lied*? But why? Are you saying he (if: $data's vampire is 1)[was](else:)[is] a traitor? Seline, none of this makes sense." [["Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->kingCries1]] (if: $data's vampire is 1)[[["*Was*? Is he gone?" ->radGoneVTIgSS]]](else:)[[["Yes, father. I'm sorry, but it's true. The proof is right before your eyes." ->kingCries]]]

He snorts. "Seline... Seline left me. Ran off with a Saragaian pup who murdered her for sport." Tears well in the rheumy old eyes. "This is just a dream, isn't it?" [["Father, no! This is real. Sir Raddibore lied to you!" ->noEnchantmentVTIgSS2]] [["Pull yourself together, Father. Sir Raddibore betrayed you! He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->kingCries1]]

The King shakes his grey locks as if to clear his head. (display: "tooMuch")

His voice drops to a whisper. "It's the strangest thing, lass. Last night... something came into his room and - *drained* him..." His voice shudders. "We were all in shock... But what did you mean, he lied to me?" [["Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->kingCries]] [["Drained him? What do you mean?" ->whatDrainedVTIgSS]]

"There were fang-marks on his throat! And his blood was ...gone..." [["Are you saying it was a *vampire*?" ->vampireKilledRadVTIgSS]] [["Weird. But anyway, I can't say I'm sorry he's dead." ->kingCries]]

He shakes his head. "It seems absurd, doesn't it? But what else could do such a thing? And now, seeing you here again..." (display: "kingCries")

You wake. It's still night. There's a dark shape at the end of the bed. Someone's sitting there ...watching you. [[Scream. ->screamMorael]] [[Sit up. ->sitUpMorael]]

"Shh!" whispers the dim figure, putting a finger to its lips. (display: "moraelInRoom")

"Seline..." murmurs the shadowy figure. (display: "moraelInRoom")

The voice is familiar, yet strange. He stands, strikes flint. But his hands shake; he drops the flint. It takes him three tries before a lantern hisses to life, filling the room with dancing shadows as he places it by your bedside. (set: $canundo to true) [[Look at him. ->lookMorael]]

"Please, Seline! Before you judge me, listen." He moves closer. (display: "closer")

He backs away, hands raised. "Seline... I... I will not harm you. I swear. I just... Please..." You stare at him. Slowly, he lowers his hands, moving back to your bedside. (display: "closer")

He moves nearer to the light. You gasp. His skin is pale, the tan drained away, yet beautiful, almost translucent. "Do you truly not know?" [["You're so pale... and the way you move... your voice... it's unnatural." ->unnatural]] [["Oh no... You're not.." ->cantBe]]

"For this." (display: "whatIsMorael")

"I did... and in my arrogance I cursed him. But he was right. (display: "unworth")

"In a way, perhaps. And he was right. (display: "unworth")

He nods. "A King untouched by conscience or fear, freed from human shame - for what shame could compare to my daily thirst? A King of enduring power, fearsome abilities and ruthless action." [["I guess having an immortal and super-powered ruler could stabilize the realm. I mean, assuming your people don't stake you in the night." ->noStakes]] [["Are you sure having no conscience is a good thing?" ->silence]]

He shakes his auburn hair, a glittering smile breaking through. "Seline, you should have seen it. Yes, my grandfather is very well, much to the chagrin of Sir Raddibore. I have told Estevan all you did for us, and he is deeply grateful. As for Torveld... well, I visited his encampment earlier tonight." He lies back, hands behind his head, inches from your body. His pallid beauty, so near and so unearthly, sends a shiver through your core. "They were all very upset to see their plans foiled, and Raddibore was severely questioned. Still, I think that was the happier part of the evening for him." [["The happier part?" ->betterpart]] [["You didn't!" ->ateRaddibore]]

"When I was a man, my heart was always divided, torn between need and right. I strove constantly to reconcile them. That was sophistry, Seline! Now my heart is still, my conscience silent, and I am ...free." His smile is joyful, the long fangs gleaming by lamplight. [["Are you sure silencing your conscience is a good thing?" ->silence]] [["You think this will make you a better king?" ->intent]]

"They may find it strange at first, but I intend to earn their trust. And thanks to you, my grandfather may rule for many years more." [["You're a monster." ->monster]] [["I see." ->maybeVamp]]

"Until I was freed from it, I never realized how it tormented and blinded me, Seline." He smiles at you. [["You're a monster." ->monster]] [["I see." ->maybeVamp]]

"As a king must be." His tone remains quiet, yet there's a stubborn intensity in his voice that could be grief or joy, or both. "Seline... if you wish me to leave, you need only say so. I know I have no right to ask your acceptance... to beg you to remember our friendship. For it is true - in a way - that your friend is dead, and what speaks to you now is something else. If that fact is unbearable, then tell me so, and I shall trouble you no more." [["You are a demon, occupying the dead husk of my dear friend! If you care at all for my feelings, begone!" ->begone]] [["Uh, I need some time to think this over." ->maybeVamp]]

"Take all the time you need, Seline. I know it does not seem so simple from your side." [["Leave me. I must think on this." ->thanksMorael]] [["Morael, what's happening outside? Is your grandfather well? What of King Torveld's army?" ->outside]]

His eye-teeth glint. "After he retired to his chambers, I had my own questions for him. And I found his answers... satisfying, if a little tough and dry." [["You *ate* Sir Raddibore!" ->ateRaddibore]] [["I see." ->tooCasual]]

He looks baffled at your tone. "I didn't realize you were fond of him." [["Eating people is wrong, Morael!" ->eatingPeople]] [["I wasn't... it's just... eww. That man was disgusting!" ->disgusting]]

Morael smiles happily. "That's what I would have thought, before." (display: "tooCasual")

"Not to me," he smiles. "One of the great benefits of my condition is it enables me to appreciate those I once found repugnant." (display: "tooCasual")

He ducks his head. "I know this is sudden," he says. "But think about it. Please? We both want to end the cycle of war. And neither Saragai nor Thronheim will ever yield. We can only unify our nations under a partnership of equals." [["That does make sense, I guess." ->makesSense]] [["Morael... I don't think I'm ready to get married, honestly." ->notReady]](if: $data's marryR is 1)[ [["Morael, I'm engaged to Rain!" ->engagedRain]]]

"Engagements can be called off, Seline. That's why they're not marriages." [["Would you really do that to Rain?" ->poorRain]] [["I guess that's true." ->makesSense]]

Disappointment flickers in the golden eyes, but as usual, Morael controls himself. "I understand," he says. "After all that has happened, your father will want to see you safely wed. But you can count on my support in standing up to him." [["Pretty decent for a bloodsucking fiend." ->fiend]] [["Thanks, Morael." ->thanksMorael]]

His golden gaze seems to see through you. "Yet that doesn't mean it's the right choice, does it? Seline, you've seen me at my worst, you've never turned away from the truth, even when I couldn't bear it myself. Your compassion brought me through my darkest hours. So I want you by my side forever, as my partner and dearest friend. But for the same reason, if your heart is elsewhere, I will always support your choices." [["Morael... I will think about it." ->thanksMorael]] [["Morael, I love Rain. I don't want anybody else." ->loveRain]]

He runs his tongue across his fangs. "In the past, that would have troubled me also. But would it truly be a kindness to let my brother wed a woman who prefers a different man?" [["I guess I do see what you mean." ->makesSense]] [["You're just rationalizing selfishness." ->ratSelf]]

"I'm not," he laughs. "If there's one thing you should understand about me now, Seline, it's that I no longer need to rationalize selfishness." [["Morael... I will think about it." ->thanksMorael]] [["Morael, I love Rain. I don't want anybody else." ->loveRain]]

He inclines his head. "Sleep well. I find myself hungry again, and I will not harm innocents. Fortunately, the encampment is crawling with deserving meals." He blows out the lantern. His footsteps make no sound; only the creak of the door tells you he's gone. You lie awake a long time. [[Three days later... ->threeDaysLater]]

He nods. "My brother is fortunate," he says. "I shall do all I can to help you both." [["Pretty decent for a bloodsucking fiend." ->fiend]] [["Thank you, Morael." ->thanksMorael]]

"I may lack moral inhibition, Seline, but I still care for those I love." (display: "thanksMorael")

Lamplight glimmers on his pale skin. "May I sit?" [[Nod.->nodMorael]] [["Get out! Now!" ->getOutMorael]]

He knew I was unworthy. A blade untempered. So he arranged it thus. I could remain a dog forever. Or be transmuted into something less brittle..." [["Less brittle? What do you mean?" ->weakness]] [["He *wanted* a vampire king?" ->intent]]

The sun is gone, and the first stars gleam in a velvet sky. A row of lanterns illuminates the road out of Isholme. Its edges swarm with commoners, who cheer, wave and throw flowers in your path. Despite the hood shadowing your face, their eyes follow you, and you hear a titter of gossip as you (if: $data's vampire is 1)[follow King Estevan's palanquin, arm in arm with Prince Morael.(set: $canundo to true) His arm is cool as marble, but his behaviour toward you is as courteous as ever. Perhaps in other circumstances, his sudden pallor and nocturnality would have raised questions at court. But the Isholmers, shaken by the siege, are happy to embrace their newly returned Prince - especially considering that every night he has led heroic attacks upon your father's forces, fighting, you are told, with astounding strength and agility.](else:)[help King Estevan to his palanquin. The ancient monarch leans upon your arm, taking shuffling steps and stopping to wheeze every few feet. Yet compared to his previous bedridden state, he seems almost spritely, and the wild applause suggests that his people appreciate the transformation.] The enormous portcullis creaks and groans as it is winched up. Four soldiers, small as toys beside the great gates, lift the iron bars and haul them open. [[Go through. ->throughGates]]

She nods. "We all did. You're not alone, Seline." [["How could I let this happen? All those soldiers... drowned..." ->somethingDone]]

She shakes her head, weeping. "I can hardly believe it myself. Where to begin? It was the strangest thing. That awful woman, Nyora, came marching into the cell where Rain and I were imprisoned. We thought she'd come to execute us! But she took us outside instead. She told us Yellowtooth's plans... Then, as she was leading us away, a platoon of Yellowtooth's guards appeared. She shoved us into a dark alley and went out to meet them. They tried to arrest her, but she fought them. They were too many, though. She was on her knees. And Rain - you know Rain - he couldn't let her die for us. He ran out, snatched a dead man's sword, and attacked them. Then Nyora was on her feet again, and they ran and fought together, leading the battle away. He did it to protect me, Seline... and I don't know what happened to him after that. They just disappeared into the night - I don't even know if he's alive! So I was alone. I had no idea where you could be, or even if you were still alive... The only thing I could think of to do was to try to get into Isholme myself. Somebody has to tell King Estevan the truth." [["How did you get into the city?" ->howCity2]] [["Tertia... I failed." ->ifailed]]

She squeezes your shoulders sympathetically. "I feel the same way. But we can't change the past. Estevan will never believe us now. And pretty soon, he'll be dead, and the traitors will open the gates. We'd better not be here when that happens." [["You're right. We have to get out of here." ->tryAgain]] [["No! I have to try again!" ->tryAgain]]

She shakes her head, weeping. "Oh, Seline, that poor ship... and all her men..." [["How could I let this happen? All those soldiers... drowned..." ->somethingDone]] [["Tertia... I failed." ->ifailed]]

She shudders. "Oh, Seline. It was the most frightening thing I've ever done. Rain had told me about a sort of friend of the family, a smuggler who they tolerate in return for quiet help with certain problems... awfully shady-sounding stuff! To cut a long story short, I found the lady, and she brought me into the city, gave me these clothes, and introduced me to Lord Alcyon as a distant cousin of hers so I could attend the ball. But it was all for nothing, wasn't it?" [["I'm afraid so. How could I let this happen? All those soldiers... drowned... " ->somethingDone]] [["Tertia... I failed." ->ifailed]]

You rise to your feet. But as you hurry across the square, you hear a shout. "It's her!" Three guards break into a run, pursuing you. You duck into an alleyway - only to confront another pair. Before you can turn, they grab you firmly by the shoulders. "Got her!" [["Let me go!" ->letMeGo]] [["Stop! What is this about?" ->whatAbout]]

"Certainly not. (display: "chainThem")

"Shut up! (display: "chainThem")

DISUSED BAD DEPRESSING ENDING SHOULD NOT APPEAR You scramble away from the guard's contemptuous glance. *He* certainly won't let you in again. But what else can you do? You circle the palace again, but find no other entrances. Wandering disconsolately, your hopes fade. (set: $canundo to true) Unnoticed, your feet take you back to the main square. You've failed. Even if you could get back into the palace, there's no way the King will listen to you. Dark thoughts overwhelm you, and you sink down, head in hands, resting on a step. Like a rising storm, you at last notice that the mood of the crowd has changed. More people have arrived; the square is densely packed. Some are gazing up at the balcony, where a crowd of nobility has gathered. But most are staring and pointing out to sea, where you glimpse *Leviathan*'s mast over the houses. Not long now. Dread pervades you. You keep your head in your hands. Waiting is agony. A hush falls over the crowd. Then it erupts in a gigantic cheer. Silence, then more cheering. "She's moving!" shouts somebody. You hear admiring gasps. "Look at her sails billow!" "She's so beautiful! How she shines in the sun!" "For Saragai!" The cheering goes on and on. Then a chill gust catches your hair, and the crowd suddenly falls silent. "What's happening?" says someone. Nobody answers. "It can't be!" Somebody screams. "No!" People start to run, yelling and crying. "She's sinking! "Where are her boats?" "My father!" "Get them off!" In the desperate whirl of horror, you lose track of individual voices. *Leviathan*'s death is a cacophany of terror and grief. As you sit alone and ignored on the step, hiding your face from disaster, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. (if: $metTertia is 1)[You raise your tearstreaked face. Tertia sits beside you, wrapping one arm around your shoulder. "You did everything you could," she says.](else:)[(if: $data's sawTertia is 1)[You raise your tearstreaked face to see the lady in blue velvet. She's still beautiful, though her eyes are full of grief.](else:)[You raise your tearstreaked face to see a lady in blue velvet. Her gleaming nut-brown hair falls in silken ringlets, encased in a net of silver and sapphires. She wears a matching dress, deep blue silk edged in silver lace, plunging at the bosom to reveal skin pale as cream. Her face is pale, etched with tears, and her grey eyes are wide with horror.] And you know her. You gasp. Can it really be her? [["Tertia! What are you doing here?" ->hiTertia]]] [["Tertia... I failed." ->ifailed]] [[Hug her. ->hugTertia]]

She clings to you fiercely. "Oh, Seline... thank goodness you're here." Her face is wet with tears. [["Tertia... I failed." ->ifailed]] [["How could I let this happen? All those soldiers... drowned..." ->somethingDone]] [["Tertia, what happened? How can you be here?" ->hiTertia]] [["Thank goodness you are! I was so worried about you!" ->nightmare2]]

Chain her!" barks the guard, who still has his meaty hands wrapped around your shoulders. It's futile. In moments, your hands are locked in heavy iron manacles. Tertia cries and beats her hands against the men's armor; they thrust her aside. At least they do not seem interested in arresting her. You're dragged down a long flight of stairs into a grimy, windowless dungeon. They chain you to a sturdy ring protruding from the wall and leave you in silence. You have just enough latitude to sit with your back against the cold stone. Half an hour later, Lord Paravas arrives. Two servants come with him, carrying a comfortable chair. He sits, staring at you. "So," he says. "You're going to tell me everything about the sinking of the *Leviathan*." [["What? How could I possibly know anything about that?" -> goneLev [["I already told you everything I know. She was doomed!" -> doomed [["That's not what's important right now. Your King is in danger! Someone's going to try to assassinate him!" -> doomed

Shivering, you retrace your steps. You tell yourself you had no choice, it was the only rational decision. But nothing can quiet the small voice inside. *Coward*.(set: $canundo to false) (if: $data's vampire is 1)[A grim smile twists your lips, for equally you cannot deny the small thread of triumph woven in your shame. Your friends might never understand, but did you ever really need their understanding? Perhaps what you needed all along was this: a future unimpeded by their desires. ]All is quiet. The streets are empty. Some houses are barred; others have had their doors smashed in. The air stinks of smoke and death, and a grey-brown pall hangs in the air. Plumes rise in the distance, and the cobbles are bloodstained. (if: $data's vampire is 1)[Soon, it will all be yours. ]Near dawn, where your path crosses the broad road leading to the gates of Isholme, you hear the jingling of harness ahead. Around the corner come six riders. Seeing you, they rein in, pikes ready. You stand transfixed, staring up at the knights in their dull-silver armor, their faces invisible behind metal visors. "Wait!" croaks an aged voice from the back of the group. The speaker dismounts from a snow-white war-horse. He moves slowly, wearily, plodding toward you. He stands, staring at you, for a long time. Then he removes his helmet. [[Your heart wrenches. ->heartWrench]]

(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 18 (if: $data's savedSaragai is 0)[(if: $data's vampire is 1)[##The Vengeance of Morael](else:)[##Raddibore's Reward] |Recap>[(display: "recap")] (display: "leaveHouse")](else:)[##The Strays Return |Recap>[(display: "recap")] (if: $data's vampire is 1)[(display: "beginSaragaiSavedVamp")](else:)[(display: "threeDaysLater")]]

For long moments, all is quiet. Then something stirs around the palace door. Half the orchestra plays a ragged fanfare. King Estevan emerges, flanked by ceremonial guards. He hurries to your side. "Princess Seline, I am so sorry for your loss. We tried to warn your father, but he would not listen." [["Indeed, your Majesty. My father's errors are his alone, and he has paid for them. I hope you will not judge the rest of us by them."->torveldPaid]] [["Thronheim never should have invaded Saragai, your Majesty. My father's death is his own fault." ->torveldPaid]]]

"Honor!" spits your father. "That - what do you mean, my turn?" He knows perfectly well what you mean. [["You must release Prince Rain, Father." ->releaseRain]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "You know now that Sir Raddibore misled you, Father. You have detained an innocent man, falsely accusing him of a crime that was never committed. It is only fair that you return him to his family." ->innocentMan]]

"Oh, I must, must I?" Your father's smile fades. "But why?" [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "He's innocent, Father! Falsely accused by Sir Raddibore - and you know it. Let him go, and show Saragai that you still believe in honor." ->innocentMan]] [["Because, Father, until you do what is right, I shall remain in Isholme. King Estevan has promised me sanctuary." ->sanctuary]]

For a moment, his eyes flash with irritation. "I know what I'm doing, daughter." (display: "kingCries")

Nobody else stands. (display: "torveldArrives")

Nobody moves. (display: "torveldArrives")

The King of Thronheim trots up, mounted on a snow-white war-horse whose flowing mane and tail are braided with gold ribbons. Torveld's robes are purple velvet, trimmed in gold and ermine. His grey locks are neatly pinned behind the heavy crown of Thronheim. He dismounts and paces slowly but with great dignity toward the dais. You are close enough to see the deep lines of his face, the sagging cheek-pockets and greying flesh. Indeed, he looks a decade older. You feel a pang. No matter how much you hate his recent choices, he's still your father. You glance at Estevan, and see the shadow of a smile. He nods. Drawing back your hood, you step forward. (if: $data's toldT is 0)[[["Father!" ->fatherVTIgSS]]](else:)[[["Father!" ->fatherVTKSS]]]

You walk behind King Estevan's palanquin through the gates, surrounded by the crisp stamping of his ceremonial guard. (set: $canundo to true) Outside, the road leads down into a shadowy valley where the dark mass of Thronheim's army swarms. Stars shimmer over distant hills. Halfway between the walls and the besieging army, a dais has been erected with crimson carpet. A large golden chair stands at its center, with smaller and plainer ones on either side. Leaning upon Paravas's arm, the King hoists himself onto the dais and plonks into the makeshift throne with a sigh of exhaustion; at his gesture, you sit beside him. Trumpets blare. You watch, breath bated, as six knights of the Saragaian court arrive one by one and take their seats upon the dais. From Thronheim's lines, a second fanfare plays. Six Thronheim soldiers approach in full ceremonial dress. They move warily, hands close to their weapons. Next comes a page, his face pale. "All sh-shall rise for the arrival of - of His M-Majesty, King Torveld!" he shouts. [[Stand. ->standUp]] [[Don't stand. ->dontStand]]

"No?" His tone is puzzled. "How is it that you think you can say no to me, Seline?" His hand closes on your shirt, lifts you and tosses you aside like a rag doll. "Seline!" shouts Torveld. You clamber to your feet, gasping, as Morael steps between you. [["What are you doing?" ->mustKneel]] [["You must kneel before my father, Morael. It's the only way!" ->mustKneel]]

"I could not save *Leviathan*. I could not save my people, nor my grandfather. I could not even save my own soul. But I can still destroy the one who caused all this." His eyes flicker toward your father. [["Morael, no! I tried to stop all this! I never wanted to win this war!" ->moraelNo]] [["And then I will raze Isholme to the ground. Is that what you want?" ->razeIsholme]]

Morael shakes his head slightly. Before anyone else can move, his sword is at your father's throat. "Treachery!" Torveld's soldiers start toward Morael. "Halt! Or your King dies now!" Morael's voice rings out, loud as a church organ, pitched for the crowd. His yellow eyes glimmer with deadly eagerness. [["Morael, no! Why are you doing this?" ->whatDoingMorael]] [[Attack Morael. ->attackMorael]]

With one hand, he bats aside your blade and throws you to the ground. Torveld manages to raise his shield. "Do you think you can hide from justice, Torveld?" Effortlessly, Morael snatches the shield from his hand and hurls it away. Torveld draws his sword and slashes at him, but Morael grips the blade as it flies, twisting it from his hand. Then he raises the blade above his head and bends it until it snaps. He tosses the shards aside. [["Morael, no! Why are you doing this?" ->whatDoingMorael]] [["Morael, stop! Don't you understand, if you kill Torveld, Isholme will be utterly destroyed!" ->razeIsholme]]

The blade pointed at your father's jugular has not wavered once. Now Morael's voice is suddenly very soft. "Look up, Seline." [[Look up. ->lookUp]]

Puzzled, you raise your eyes. The ramparts are bristling with bowmen. Somewhere above, a horn is blown. You hear the tramp of feet, the sudden beating of drums near and far. Grim-faced Saragaian soldiers pour into the square on all sides, surrounding Thronheim's troops. The men shrink toward the center and mill around like penned sheep, but there's nowhere to run. "I am not suicidal," explains Morael when the sound dies. He pushes Torveld to the ground and stands over him with blade drawn. "I have spent the last three nights draining the strength of Torveld's army with raids and skirmishes. I let them think they'd beaten us down, when in truth I'd not spent one tenth of our men. And I have summoned the militias of neighboring cities and lands. Even now, they approach Isholme's walls." Now he speaks directly to Torveld. "Do you hear me, King of Thronheim? You are friendless, trapped and weak. I will kill you, just as I killed your worthless general, and grind your army into meat if they are stupid enough to defy me. You shall be known to history as the king whose idiocy destroyed his own nation." Torveld spits at him. "Is that all you have to say, Torveld? No eloquent last words?" "Kill me if you have the courage, fiend!" growls Torveld. "I grow tired of listening to you." Morael's eyes narrow. He lifts his blade. [["Morael, wait! Please! I'll do anything!" ->pleaseMorael]] [[Say nothing. ->waitMorael]] (if: $stake is 1)[[[Stake him. ->tryStakeMorael]]]

"Anything?" Lowering the blade, Morael turns to look at you mockingly. "What do you mean, anything? Will you bring back my grandfather from the dead, then? What of the bloated corpses that wash ashore daily from *Leviathan*'s wreckage - will you revive them, too? No? What *can* you do, Seline?" [["Morael, please. This is not who you are! Neither of us ever wanted the cycle of war and hate to continue. If you subjugate Thronheim, it will just start again. Let my people go, and we will never trouble you again." ->pleaseVamp]] [["Morael, I can't change the past. But the future's another matter. If we unite our lands, this bloodshed need never occur again. I offer my hand in marriage. Just don't hurt my father!" ->offerMarryVamp]] [["Morael, Rain and I are engaged. Our peoples' destinies are intertwined. There's no need for violence between our families!" ->engagedRainVamp]]

There is no time to act, and yet it seems to take forever, that sickening moment as you watch the bright blade arc against the starlit sky, down, down, until it crunches into flesh, sinew and bone. (set: $deadTorveld to 1) Your father's head tumbles across the cobbles, cleanly detached in a single blow. Blood fountains across the stones. A collective shudder echoes around the square. (display: "vampKilledTorveld")

He sees you coming, grabs your wrist and twists the stake from your hand in one swift movement. Hurling you and it aside, he turns back to Torveld. "Now, where were we?" (set: $stake to 0) You hit the ground hard, but even as you struggle to your feet, his blade is falling. (display: "waitMorael")

"No!" cries Torveld, desperately struggling against Morael's iron grip. "Seline, you must not do this! He's a monster!" Morael's foot presses on his throat. "Be quiet, fool," he hisses. "*You* have no part in this conversation." [["But Father, don't you understand? I, I... love him." ->loveHim]] [["Father, it's the only way!" ->onlyWay]]

He looks thoughtful. "No. You will marry me instead." (set: $torveldLives to 1) [["What? But Morael, I am promised to him! Surely you would not do that to your brother!" ->promisedToRain]] [["But why? Why share your power? You can rule Saragai alone, and Rain's children will inherit Thronheim." ->ruleAlone]]

"As you promised to help my people?" Morael scoffs. "You shall have to forgive me if I do not take your promises seriously. No, it's all the better; in wedding you, I'll excuse my brother from an oath he never should have made." [["Forget it, Morael. You don't get to bully us just because you're an immortal predator with supernatural powers now!" ->noBully]] [["Rain would never do this to you!" ->rainWouldnt]]

"Your father's death is his own doing, Seline. And you cannot deny that it is well-earned. The blood on his hands is not only Saragaian, for your people too have suffered grievously, and shall suffer further. For I have no choice but to grind them down until they forget their pride. Unless..." He pauses, and now his golden eyes hold a speculative gleam. "Unless, that is... we can unite our nations in a more pleasant way." [["Never! Thronheim shall not yield to you, you foul, undead demon! And neither shall I!" ->noBully]] [["You have taken your vengeance, Morael. These men are not your enemy, and neither am I. Let us go, and we will never trouble you again." ->letUsGo]]

"And why should I do that?" [["Because it's who you are, Morael. Neither of us ever wanted the cycle of war and hate to continue. If you subjugate Thronheim, it will just start again. Let my father's death be the end of it." ->endFather]] [["Morael, Rain and I are engaged. Our peoples' destinies are intertwined. There's no need for more violence!" ->engagedRainDadDead]]

"I am everything you accuse me of. And that, Seline, is why I'll have what I want. One way or another." (display: "freezeTone")

A shadow crosses his face, as if he is reminded of something he had forgotten. "You... are right, Seline. I always wanted ... peace." Then he shakes his head. "But to simply let you leave... your people will not forget this humiliation. The cycle cannot be broken thus. No, I have a better idea. We must lead them firmly into the path of the future, not permit them to dwell upon the past. We must show not only grudging tolerance, but love. You shall be my bride, and the lands shall be united under our heirs." [["That's, uh, an interesting proposal, Morael." ->interestingProposal]] [["You want me to marry you? The undead monster who just killed my father?" ->marryUndead]] [["What? But Morael, I am promised to Rain! Surely you would not do that to your brother!" ->promisedToRain]]

He looks thoughtful. "No. You will marry me instead." [["What? But Morael, I am promised to him! Surely you would not do that to your brother!" ->promisedToRain]] [["But why? Wouldn't it be better for you? Why share your power? You can rule Saragai alone, and Rain's children will inherit Thronheim." ->ruleAlone]] [["*You*? The undead monster who just killed my father?" ->marryUndead]]

"Yes, me." His eye-teeth glint as he smiles broadly. Golden-skinned and blood-spattered, his handsome features make your skin crawl and your stomach turn over. [["Never! Thronheim shall not yield to you, you foul, undead demon! And neither shall I!" ->noBully]] [["That's, uh, an interesting proposal, Morael." ->interestingProposal]] [["But Morael, I am promised to Rain! Surely you would not do that to your brother!" ->promisedToRain]]

His golden eyes harden. "It seems you do not understand me, princess. This is not a proposal. It is a demand." You look around. Your men cower in the center of the square, surrounded by bristling spears and arrows. (if: $torveldLives is 0)[Your father's body lies sprawled on the cobbles.] [["It seems I have no choice but to agree." ->agreedMarryMorael]] [["Then the answer is no! Thronheim shall never yield to you, you foul, undead demon! And neither shall I!" ->noBully]]

His eyes harden. "*That* is your offer?" His tone drips with scorn. "True, when you knew me, I was a man of peace and honor - a fool, in other words. Do you not see where those ideas have led my people? No, Seline, I am no longer a man, and the thing I have become is wiser and less merciful." He turns back to Torveld, raising the blade and slashing downwards in one smooth movement. [["Morael, no!" ->waitMorael]] (if: $stake is 1)[[[Stake him. ->tryStakeMorael]]]

"Then we are agreed." He smiles pleasantly. [["I suppose we are." ->agreedMarryMorael]] [["No! I mean, I, uh... I need time to consider this proposal." ->interestingProposal]]

You don't quite see what happens next. One moment, your father is struggling against Morael's grip. He shouts something. Then he's on the ground, writhing and moaning, struggling to drag himself toward you through a dark stain spreading on the cobbles. Morael steps away with a shrug. "He had a dagger in his boot." He sounds annoyed. You rush to your father's side, cradle his withered form in your arms. His fading eyes meet yours, and his voice gurgles as he tries to speak. "Se... Seline," he murmurs. "Don't cry... Better... like this. Couldn't let you... for me." You realize there's blood all over your hands, pooling fast beneath him. Too much much blood. It wells between your fingers as you struggle to cover the wound. Hopeless tears blot out the sight. [["Father! Rest... don't try to talk... let me help you..." ->restFather]] [["I will avenge you, Father!" ->willAvengeFather]] [["Father... I love you." ->loveYouDad]]

A strange half-smile crosses his lips. "Doesn't... hurt." (set: $deadTorveld to 1) He sighs, and his gaze wanders beyond you, fixing upon the stars brightening in the evening sky. The reflections go still, the shuddering, gurgling breaths cease, and his tormented muscles relax, limp in your arms. All is quiet. A great emptiness wells inside you. (display: "vampKilledTorveld")

"I... love you, daughter." (display: "restFather")

"No!" The exclamation seems to cost him, and his next words are a gurgling whisper, thick with blood. "Go... free, daughter." (display: "restFather")

"Well," says Morael cheerfully. "That's that. Any questions?" He glances around at the soldiers crowding the square. Torveld's men shift uncomfortably. "Then let us put the past behind us, and turn to happier topics." Morael turns, and his yellow eyes meet yours. There's a spattering of blood across his face. He licks his lips. "Seline, I know you never craved war between our nations. Neither did I. And there is more than one way to prevent it." His cold hand slides around your wrist. You feel the nails run lightly along the artery. "Your army is trapped, Seline, your kingdom undefended. I can obliterate your forces and subjugate your people. I can be everything the Sorcerer desired." He pauses. "Or... " [["Unhand me, you murderous coward! How dare you talk to me thus, dripping with my father's blood? Neither I nor my people will ever submit to you, you monstrous, unnatural fiend!" ->monstrousFiend]] [["Or you can remember who you truly are. You have taken your vengeance, Morael. These men are not your enemy, and neither am I. Let us go, and we will never trouble you again." ->letUsGo]]

Tears blur your eyes. Your *friend* holds you tightly, mercilessly. No. Your friend is dead. Your friend would never do this. What is here... is only a monstrous demon violating his corpse. Your fingers feel for the blade sheathed beneath your cloak, grip until your knuckles whiten. You squeeze closed your eyes, shutting out the blurred image of your friend's body. You still know his scent. Eyes still on the crowd, he lowers his lips to your throat. His kiss is ice. You slam the sword deep into his chest. His eyes widen. He staggers. Then he straightens. He pulls the sword away, laughing, and hurls it away. It clatters on the cobbles. "How silly of you," he murmurs, gazing into your eyes affectionately. Gripping you more firmly, he gazes around at the armies who stare in stunned silence. He smiles knowingly. (display: "abduction")

On all sides, archers bend their bows, and you hear the zing of drawn swords. (if: $torveldLives is 1)[Your father shouts, "Hold fast! Don't shoot! You'll hit her!" Still clamping you against his cold chest, Morael surveys the scene. His fangs gleam. "Tell your men to drop their weapons, Torveld." Torveld bows his head. Tears stream openly down his face. "I cannot do it, Seline. I cannot lose you again." At his gesture, the men obey.](else:)[Still clamping you against his cold chest, Morael surveys the scene. His fangs gleam. "Drop your weapons, men of Thronheim! Or your princess dies here." The men's weapons clatter to the ground.] All but one. An armored rider on a tall buckskin mare bursts through the crowd, curved blade flashing in the moonlight. "Let her go, Morael!" Andreas sounds desperate. [["Andreas, help me!" ->helpMeAndreas]] [["Begone, Andreas! I choose Morael." ->chooseMorael]]

"I am glad we understand each other." Morael's eye-teeth glint. He turns to the watching armies. "Let all rejoice! The time of war is ended, and a new era of peace and unity dawns. Tomorrow, the Princess Seline and I shall wed!" A low murmur of disbelief rises from the men. Morael ignores them. His cold hand slides around your wrist. You feel the nails run lightly along the artery. His next words are pitched for you alone. "As for what happens after..." (display: "freezeTone")

His tone freezes your blood. You gasp, stepping backward, but it's too late. His grip on your wrist is chill and hard as iron. He jerks you backward into his arms. [[Let him take you. ->abduction]] [["Morael, wait!" ->letMeGoMorael]] (if: $stake is 1)[[[(set: $difficulty to 10+$data's likesM/5)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Stake Morael. ->stakeMorael]]](else:)[[[Fight. ->fightMorael]]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's persuade to it + 1) (if: $success is true)["*Innocent*, you say? Pah! Then I suppose you ran to Estevan entirely of your own accord, did you?" As he stares at you, his eyes narrow. "Oh. Wait... oh, you damned, cunning, wretched little brat! And you dare talk to me of honor! Well. I suppose you've got what you wanted, then." (display: "arriveRain")](else:)["What, you call that snivelling little creep *innocent*? Always following you like a lost puppy, whispering treason in your ear and turning you against your own people? He may be pathetic, Seline, but he's no innocent!" [["It matters not what you think of him, Father. Until you release him, I shall remain in Isholme. King Estevan has offered me sanctuary." ->sanctuary]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "You only reveal how little you know him, Father. Rain is the truest, most honorable friend I have ever known." ->friendRain]]]

"Sanctuary!" snorts Torveld, glancing around at his men. "He means to keep you as hostage!" He shakes his head. "Gods, the naivete of the child." [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Persuade")(display: "makeDice"): "As you did Prince Rain, Father?" ->friendRain]] [["Call it what you will, if you wish me to return with you, you must match King Estevan's honorable gesture." ->matchGesture]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's persuade to it + 1) (if: $success is true)[A flicker of doubt crosses his lined face. "You - you really care for him, don't you? If you only understood..."](else:)["Aye, you're two of a kind, that's true enough."] (display: "arriveRain")

"As if you have a choice!" (display: "arriveRain")

King Torveld sighs. With a jerk of his head, he summons a soldier. The man returns to Thronheim's lines. Two soldiers emerge from a tent, dragging a third man between them in shackles. (if: $data's vampire is 0)[At his side trots the russet dog who, when he sees you, bounds forward and whirls around you, leaping and whimpering, his amber eyes shining and whole body wagging in joyous greeting. You hug him tightly and stroke his velvet ears. You'd heard nothing of his fate since you were separated outside Isholme.] Rain limps, leaning heavily on his captors as he climbs the few steps to the dais. His clothes are in rags, and a dark stain shows through a bandage on his bicep. But when he sees you, a smile breaks across his face like sunlight. He holds out his hands impatiently; the guards unchain him, and then he's hurrying to you, azure eyes sparkling despite the layer of prison dirt. He smells of sweat and blood and grime. He grips your hand with fervent warmth. "Seline! You did it! How can I ever thank you enough?" [[Hug him. ->hugRainHappy]] [["I'm sure you'll think of something." ->thinkOfSomething]] [["It was nothing, Rain." ->wasNothing]]

He turns pink under the dirt, and shakes his head, laughing. "Oh, Seline! How I've missed you!" (display: "goBackWithTorveld")

Rain shakes his head. "It was *everything*. Seline... you saved my people. And me. Nobody else could have done it. You're amazing!" [[Hug him. ->hugRainHappy]] [["Well, so are you." ->thinkOfSomething]]

Rain hugs you back. Glancing around nervously, he gently pushes you away. "Seline!" he scolds, shaking his head. "We're in public!" You glance around guiltily. (display: "goBackWithTorveld")

You can feel your father's scowl burning from several feet away. King Estevan, on the other hand, smiles benignly at you both. "Come on, then," growls Torveld. Rain gives your hand one last squeeze. "Good luck," he murmurs. (if: $data's marryR is 1)[Under his breath he adds, "Farewell, my dearest angel. Don't be disheartened. I will come for you, I promise."] "Goodbye, sweet child," Estevan's smile now carries a hint of compassion. "Your deeds shall not be forgotten here." (if: $data's vampire is 1)[Morael raises a hand in farewell. His yellow eyes gleam, but he says nothing. ]You offer them a brave smile, but your heart sinks like lead as you turn toward the dark valley where Thronheim's army swarms. With Saragai's forces safe in Isholme, its royal line restored, and Estevan's allies rallying to crush the siege, your father can only retreat. Will you ever see the prince(if: $data's vampire is 1)[s] of Saragai again? For now, you have no choice but to follow your father. (if: $data's vampire is 1)[ (display: "ch19") ](else:)[ [[Go. ->followFather]] ]

At last you are permitted to duck beneath the flap. The tent smells pungently of damp leather and sweat. A few hides, strung between rough-hewn logs, constitute a row of beds. The old woman lights a dangling oil lamp, adding a greasy, strange-scented smoke to the odor, then leaves again. Two guards station themselves silently by the door. Your father seats himself on a log, gesturing for you to do likewise. "Now, daughter" he says. "Tell me everything." You take a deep breath. Where to begin? [["Well, it all started when a fascinatingly scarred kidnapper -" ->startedWhen]] [["Well, it all started when a brutally violent kidnapper -" ->startedWhen]]

As you make your way downhill, night closes around you. The distant mountains are black against the dusk, and the tents and men moving among them are grey shapes, touched by small circles of firelight here and there. Your father puts an arm around you. He speaks in an undertone. "Listen, daughter. Pull that cowl over your head, and do not show your face. Sir Raddibore has many supporters. He will be punished, but the time must be right, or there'll be unrest." He turns to the soldiers escorting you. "You will tell nobody what happened tonight, do you hear me? The Princess shall remain incognito." The men bow their heads submissively. Are loyal they to Torveld? And does Torveld trust them? The King leads you to a large, dirt-floored tent near the edge of the encampment. Lifting the flap, he wrinkles his nose. "It's not fit for a lady." [["It's fine, Dad!" ->fineDad]] [["Do you expect me to sleep in there?" ->expectSleep]]

The King shakes his head. "No, no. I'll have a servant clean and air it, at least." He gestures at a woman who sits darning socks nearby. She glances at you curiously. "One moment, your Majesty. I'll fetch some rags and a bucket, and sweet herbs to aid the scent." It's some minutes before she returns. (display: "atLast")

Torveld waves curtly at a woman who sits darning socks nearby. She glances at you curiously. "This tent smells worse than a cow-barn," snaps Torveld. "I want it freshened up. Put clean rushes on the floor, and scented oils in the lamps. Bring a mirror, and a wardrobe suitable for a lady. Oh, and a platter of refreshments." "As you command, your Majesty." Giving you a last stare, the old woman hobbles off. Servants dart in and out of the tent for several minutes, loaded with supplies. (display: "atLast")

You break off as a short, plump figure bursts into the tent, bald crown gleaming in the lantern-light. Torveld leaps to his feet. Raddibore marches toward you with his stubbly jowls held high. "Well, well," he sneers. "It seems you have been grievously misled, Majesty." "Misled?" demands Torveld suspiciously. The lantern has begun to smoke horribly. "Misled," Raddibore repeats silkily. "Have the Saragaians truly convinced you that this is your daughter, Majesty? I do not wish to seem presumptuous, but we all know grief can do strange things to a man's mind." Torveld draws himself up, nostrils flaring. "I think I know my daughter, Raddibore." You hear footsteps outside. Through the haze, Raddibore grins nastily. "Come in!" Three nobles enter. You recognise them as advisors of your father, though you do not know them well. One is a military commander; another, a stooped, aging earl who coughs in the thick air. The third is a rotund boy a little older than you; the earl's son, and your distant cousin. The earl and the commander frown sternly at you. The boy's lip twists in open contempt. Torveld folds his arms and glares at them. His tone is steely. "Need I remind you to kneel before the Princess of Thronheim?" "Majesty," replies Raddibore, his tone sweet as honey, "this is not the Princess. Is it, Athrel? Pendrake?" The commander shakes his head, and coughs loudly. His eyes are watering. The boy makes a strangled, half-squeal, half-snort. You stare at him. When you were small and escaped your nurse, you sometimes played together with wooden swords. But not often. He was bigger than you, and he didn't like to lose. [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Charm")(display: "makeDice"): "Hey, Rodrick! Gosh, you've grown... so tall and manly. We used to spar in the courtyard, remember? But I'm sure I couldn't take you now." ->usedToSpar]] [["Rodrick! Gosh, you've grown, haven't you? And not just vertically." ->insultRodrick]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's charm to it + 1) The boy's plump cheeks turn crimson. He darts a glance at his father, whose lips tighten. Acrid black smoke is pouring from the lantern. You can barely see. (if: $success is true)["You... you want to fight me? Now?" He sounds bewildered. "It *is* you, isn't it? I don't get it. They said you were..." Torveld folds his arms, clearly amused. "Your son seems to have no difficulty recognizing my daughter, Pendrake." Raddibore sputters. Pendrake draws himself up like an offended heron. Then he starts to cough again. Torveld steps in front of you protectively. "Guards!" he calls. The soldiers salute smartly. Raddibore ignores them, and moves toward the King, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "Your Majesty, you are not well. This ...person... intends to take advantage of your grief. I beg you, do not be taken in by such treachery!" Torveld's eyes blaze, and his mouth becomes a thin line. (if: $data's toldT is 1)[(display: "tKnowsRad")](else:)["Remove Sir Raddibore at once!" he snaps. For a moment, the guards look at one another. Then they turn and advance on Raddibore, pikes lowered. As the guards approach, Sir Raddibore stands alone, breathing heavily. His eyes bulge with desperation. "Sire! No! She's the traitor, not I!" Torveld scowls. "I said, remove him!" (display: "radAttacksYouTent")]](else:)["I don't know what she's talking about," Rodrick says finally, eyes on his shoes. "Indeed. *I've* never seen this woman in my life," says the Earl coldly, staring at you with narrowed, watery eyes. "You are quite right to be concerned, Raddibore." Arms folded, Torveld steps in front of you protectively. "Guards!" he calls. The soldiers salute smartly. Raddibore ignores them, and moves toward the King, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "Your Majesty, you have heard it from the mouths of your trusted friends. You are not well. This ...person... intends to take advantage of your grief. I beg you, do not be taken in by such treachery!" Torveld's eyes blaze, and his mouth becomes a thin line. (if: $data's toldT is 1)[(display: "tKnowsRad")](else:)["Remove Sir Raddibore at once!" he snaps. But the guards hesitate. They look at one another. In the dim haze of the smoke-filled tent, Raddibore leaps at you. You glimpse a flash of silver in his hand as he hurtles toward you and Torveld. [[Dodge. ->dodgeKingCamp]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Draw your sword. ->standGroundCamp]]]]

You leap out from beneath just as Raddibore looms over you. The King turns, roaring in anger. The silvery dagger slashes downward, but not at you. Torveld gasps, clutching at his stomach. Red wells between his fingers, trailing across the ermine robes like a sudden, wild spray of flowers. He topples forward. You catch him in your arms and lower him gently to the dirt floor. Suddenly nothing matters but to hold him. His face is grey. "Seline..." he murmurs, gazing at you. He whispers something more, but his words are swallowed by a harsh gurgling sound. He gasps shallowly. "I wanted to... tell you..." He says nothing more. After a moment, you realize that he's no longer looking at you, nor at anything in this world. You sit there, frozen. It's too sudden, too much to comprehend. And you feel stupidly, overwhelmingly furious that he didn't get to finish that sentence. Then you hear Raddibore yell. "She's murdered the King! Quick! Kill the assassin!" [[Run. ->runAwayCamp]] [["It was him! Sir Raddibore stabbed the King!" ->itWasHimCamp]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's fight to it + 1) As you wrest your sword from its sheath, you see the silvery dagger slash downward, but not at you. King Torveld turns, roaring in anger, as the blade hurtles toward him. (set: $torveldLives to 1) Without thinking, you slam your sword upward. (if: $success is true)[The dagger flies from Raddibore's hand, skating across the dirt.](else:)[Raddibore flinches, and your blade flies past harmlessly. (set: $radarmed to 1)] Nobles and guards gasp and yell, starting toward you. "You saw that!" yells Raddibore, staggering back. "She tried to murder the King! Disarm her!" "*You* tried to murder me!" shouts the King. (if: $data's toldT is 1)[(display:"radAttacksYouTent")](else:)["Arrest Sir --" but he gets no further. Men in unmarked armor burst into the tent and leap upon him; the King's guards run to tackle them, but they're outnumbered. Two more turn toward you, pikes ready. You grip your sword with both hands, but there's no way you can get close to them. Instead, you're forced backward to avoid the viciously pointed blades. Someone swings a pike. [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Parry. ->parry]] [[Duck. ->duck]]]

"She's lying! Kill her!" howls Raddibore. Torveld's guards look at one another. Then they advance on you, pikes lowered to strike. (display: "pikes")

"Stop her! Kill the assassin!" howls Raddibore. At once, Torveld's guards block the doorway. Then they advance on you, pikes lowered to strike. (display: "pikes")

Andreas bites back a curse, glancing back at the writhing mound of burning canvas and struggling men behind you. Flames lick along a fallen rope; a neighboring tent flares. "Seriously, Seline? I actually thought we were done stealing royalty." (set: $gotKing to 1) Then he wades into the fray. Nyora leaps to his side, sword shining. They slash their way into the huddle around the King. The storm of blades moves too fast to follow, but you see men falling before them. The russet dog leaps and snaps at their sides. Moments later, Andreas emerges with the King upon his back and Nyora defending his flanks. They dash toward you. (display: "riotsCamp")

On the high walls of Isholme, a distant trumpet sounds. Behind you, the camp is in an uproar. Flames spread between the tents, and men are battling in the narrow spaces between. The great portcullis of Isholme's gate rises, and a phalanx of horsemen charges down the causeway with infantry behind. "Estevan's taking advantage of the chaos to launch a sortie!" Tertia sounds outraged. "What, did you think he'd be too polite to interrupt? This is a war, not a dinner party!" Nyora shakes her head. She looks amused. Andreas looks at you. "You can't stop this, Highness. All we can do is get the hell out of his way." You swing onto Blueberry's back. Then you hesitate. Estevan has every right to defend his home. And there is no way the siege will end without bloodshed. But... these are your people. (if: $torveldLives is 1)[[["Yes, let's go!" ->leaveSortie]] [["No. I stand with my people. Take my father to safety!" ->standWithPeople]]](else:)[[["Yes, let's go!" ->leaveRadWins]] [["No. I stand with my people. Take Tertia to safety!" ->radWins]]]

Kicking Blueberry to a gallop, you lead your companions out of the settlement. Neither army seems to notice your departure. You take refuge in a woodland copse. From a bracken-covered hollow, you peer out into the darkness of the valley. Marked only by pinpoints of torchlight, Isholme's army flows down the causeway and in amongst the campfires, where they spread like a river delta. There's a muted roar; the distant clash of metal, hooves and drums, screams of fury and pain blending into one on the wind. It's impossible to tell which side is winning. Even so, you stand and watch. Your feet grow numb with chill. Dew rises, soaking you to the knees. When you are too tired to think or even worry any more, Tertia puts an arm around you and leads you, teeth chattering, to a blanket she's laid upon the ground. You awaken to a sky greying with pre-dawn light. Down in the valley, trumpets sound, low and mournful. Thronheim is calling a retreat. (display: "ch19")

Andreas's dark eyes meet yours. In them, you read frustration and fear, and his mouth moves as if he wants to protest. Instead, he bows his head. "As you command, Highness." The others look surprised. "I'm staying with you," says Nyora coolly. [["What? Nyora, you don't have to do this..." ->dontHaveToNy]] [["Thank you." ->thanksNy]]

You grip your sword with both hands, but there's no way you can get close to them. Instead, you're forced backward to avoid the viciously pointed blades. One swings. You duck, back into a pole, and the lantern tumbles to the floor. There's a whoosh as flaming oil meets canvas, and incandescent gold suddenly illuminates the crumpled form of Torveld. You clamp your sleeve across your mouth, and bolt past. The heat grows searing as the flames spread. The man who attacked you screams, entangled in burning, falling canvas. The tent's ceiling is collapsing. Then you burst out in the starry night, lungs burning and heart pounding. You hear a shout, and the thunder of hooves. Behind you, men are fighting their way out of the flaming remnants of the tent. The buckskin mare clatters to a halt beside you, white-eyed, flat-eared and stamping in the flying cinders. Behind the helm's shadow, dark eyes flash. "Must I kidnap you *again*, Highness?" The flames tower higher. Red-hot fragments fly upon the wind. Some land upon adjacent tents and catch. "Let's go!" Tertia gallops up, leading Blueberry. Nyora's close behind. (display: "riotsCamp")

"Don't take it personally." She tosses her blond mane haughtily. "My job is to keep you alive, remember?" (display: "battle")

Something unreadable flickers in the violet-blue eyes; her nostrils tighten contemptuously. "I don't need your gratitude, princess." (display: "battle")

Nyora finds you a page's mailshirt; it's bloodstained, with a hole beneath the armpit. When you finger it doubtfully, she glares at you so bitingly that you decide to put it on at once. For the rest of the night you fight. It's a grim, desperate struggle. You cannot suppress the awareness that the men you slay are no more deserving of death than those you save. And yet, as you fight, you discover in you a hatred for them, simple, pure and empty of thought. They are your enemies. It does not matter why. There is neither right nor wrong in this battle, only the need to end your opponents' lives. And it is futile, of course. As the sky starts to grey with pre-dawn light, trumpets sound, low and mournful. Thronheim is calling a retreat. (display: "ch19")

Saragai surrendered, but it's a trick by vampire Morael. If you kill him, the armies fight... BLOODY MESS leads to THRONHEIM IS MERCIFUL Saragai surrendered, but Raddibore launches a coup. If Torveld knew about Raddibore's treachery and you don't let Torveld die, Torveld successfully arrests Raddibore (else story ends as you flee). In the next chapter you negotiate peace with Saragai to your satisfaction. THRONHEIM IS MERCIFUL Saragai does not surrender, Estevan trades you to Torveld for Rain. If Morael is a vampire, he has killed Raddibore, so the siege continues. If Morael isn't a vampire, Raddibore launches a coup; if Torveld knew about his treachery and you don't let him die, he successfully arrests Raddibore. (SARAGAI IS DECENT) Alternatively if Torveld dies and/or he didn't know about Raddibore, fighting breaks out and Estevan launches a sortie in the midst of the coup, destroying Thronheim's army (SARAGAI IS MERCIFUL). THRONHEIM IS MERCIFUL Thronheim has conquered Isholme, and Estevan and Raddibore are both dead. You negotiate peace with Rain and Torveld. You can either free Saragai, or exploit it. Variables - marrying Rain? Morael dead/dog? Andreas dead? Torveld dead? If you free Saragai, Epilogue proceeds. If you exploit, story ends with the suggestion that you will sooner or later kill Andreas and Morael. SARAGAI IS DECENT As Thronheim is unable to conquer Isholme, you negotiate peace with Estevan, who is annoyed with Torveld but grateful for your intervention. Variables - marrying Rain? Morael vampire? Torveld dead? -------- A year or so later in Stelgarte, you receive a delegation from Isholme. If Morael is a dog, the delegation is led by Prince Rain. If Morael is a dog, you visited Dr Sharavi and Andreas lives, Andreas returns from a secret mission having retrieved information that allows you to cure Morael. The purpose of the delegation is to negotiate a new peace treaty, as matters have remained unstable since the end of the war. If Saragai has been conquered, you may use the leverage to force Rain to marry you, and/or trick Torveld into freeing Saragai. If Saragai has not been conquered, you have a friendly chat with Estevan before he retires to negotiate with Torveld. EPILOGUE If Morael is a vampire, you can visit the stables with him, where he gives you a pretty horse. If Morael is a dog, you can break the curse. Or you can visit Rain, who gives you something to confirm your engagement. Or you can stay with Tertia. Or you can run away with Andreas. One drop shall wake a thirst Two drops may break a curse Four or more from bad to worse

He almost smiles, though his lips never part. "Thank you," he breathes. "I feared you would... I would understand if... But I so wanted to thank you." His hand reaches out, as if to trace the lines of your face, but then he pulls it back into a white-knuckled fist. [["Morael... what are you?" ->whatIsMorael]] [["Thank me? For what?" ->modesty]]

He bows his head, covering his eyes with his hands. When he looks up, his expression is calm and still; the tears are gone. "I understand," he says. His voice is soft, yet there's an edge of steel in it. "I will trouble you no more. I only came to offer you my thanks. You have been the salvation of my homeland... and of myself. Perhaps you think me incapable of gratitude, but I assure you, even... changed as I am, I remain the servant of my people. Hate me if you wish, but do not fear me, Seline." He turns away. [["Wait!" ->waitMoraelLeaving]] [[Say nothing. ->letMoraelLeave]]

Morael blows out the lantern. In the sudden darkness, his next words seems to crowd around you. "Our nations must soon come to terms, Seline. We will not be able to avoid one another completely. But I will impose on you no further than diplomacy demands." His footsteps make no sound; only the creak of the door tells you he's gone. You lie awake a long time. [[Three days later... ->threeDaysLater]]

"Yes?" [["Sit down." ->nodMorael]] [["Morael... I'm sorry." ->sorryMoraelLeaving]]

He inclines his head. "For what?" [["For freaking out. I was just shocked. Are you... Morael, what's happened to you?" ->nodMorael]] [["I don't want to hurt you, but I can't deal with this. You have to leave. Now." ->tellMoraelLeave]]

He bows his head. "I understand. I will respect your grief." Standing up, he stretches languidly. (display: "letMoraelLeave")

"As you wish." (display: "letMoraelLeave")

He flinches. "Yes," he admits. "I am changed, and not only in appearance." (display: "touch")

He lowers his eyes. "I am," he replies. (display: "touch")

"Seline... I know how strange this must seem, but I beg you, do not regret your part in this." The hand that grips yours is ice-cold. "Please understand, I am grateful... as much for this transformation as for the salvation of my land and people." (if: $lookW is 0)[(display: "lookWeapon") ][["I don't understand." ->dontUnderstand]] [["You're... happy about this?" ->happyVamp]] [["But how could this happen?" ->howHappen]]

(set: $lookW to 1)(display: "lookWeapon") He bows his head, forehead creased. "I should go." [["Yes." ->letMoraelLeave]] [["No! It's just, Morael, I'm so sorry. I never meant to do this to you!" ->sorryVamp]] [["I don't want to hurt you, but I can't deal with this. You have to leave. Now." ->tellMoraelLeave]]

His golden gaze drops to your hand. "Touch me." He takes your fingers and places them against his cheek. He's ice-cold. He moves your fingers between his lips. You feel his teeth, but no breath, no warmth. The eye-tooth is a needle-sharp fang. [["Morael... I'm so sorry. I never meant to do this to you!" ->sorryVamp]] [["What the..." ->eekVamp]]

"Happy? No... that's not the right word. I am still shocked, and grieving. But I have been granted the power to help my people, more than I ever could as a man, let alone a dog. It is a strange sort of redemption, yet it is more than I had hoped for." [["Help your people? How?" ->wontAbdicate]] [["I don't understand." ->dontUnderstand]]

"It is not easy to explain. Everything is different. I know that my past self would have rather died than face this change. He would have been filled with shame and abhorrence at the thought of it. And yet... I do not feel it. It is nothing like he would have imagined." [["What *is* it like?" ->whatLike]] [["I guess that's what happens when you lose your soul." ->lostSoul]]

He hesitates, golden eyes distant with thought. "I would like to tell you that it is a living nightmare, that my crimes and hunger torment me. But that would be a lie. It is... pleasant. My hunger is the anticipation of the hunt, and the hunt is pure animal joy. My senses are sharpened, my strength and speed multiplied. I used to dream of being a healer, Seline. I never understood why men took pleasure in battle and death; they are arts, and I studied them dutifully, but with no passion. Now, however, the thought of the kill electrifies me, fills me with such eager passion that when I think of it, I can barely restrain my lust." [["Ugh! You're talking about murder!" ->talkAboutKilling]] [["You're not Morael." ->lostSoul]]

He looks away, frowning, as if your gaze burns him. "It is more complex than that. Or at least, it feels so. Seline... I beg you, do not judge me by the laws of nightmares and fairytales. I still share Morael's ideals, and I find myself unencumbered in their pursuit as he never was." [["Unencumbered? What do you mean?" ->didYouWonder]] [["What are you going to do?" ->wontAbdicate]] [["You don't seem to understand. You're a monster." ->monster]]

"I have thought long on this." Morael lowers his eyes. "For whatever I may be now, my desire to serve my people remains. And I cannot discern how yielding my throne to an untrained foreign boy would assist them. I was born to this task; I will not shirk it." [["You don't know Rain. He'll make a great king." ->greatKingRain]] [["But you're an undead monster who feeds on human blood! You can't rule Saragai!" ->butVampire]](if: $data's toldAll is 1)[ [["What about Andreas?" ->whatAboutAndreas]]]

The twist of his lip is momentary. Contempt, or merely a trick of the flickering light? His reply is even-toned, gentle. "Rain is a good child. But even fully trained, he could not offer my people what I can now." He smiles slightly. (display: "didYouWonder")

"I can and will, Seline." His tone remains utterly calm, his eyes meeting yours with absolute sincerity. (display: "didYouWonder")

"Did you ever wonder why the Sorcerer thought Andreas would make a better king than I?" [["I guess I never really thought about it." ->whySorc]] [["I don't know, maybe you were too heroic for his tastes?" ->tooHeroic]]

Seeing your expression, his face changes abruptly. "I am sorry. I forget... you cannot know the change in my perspective. I must not speak so casually of such things." [["It's okay. I'm glad he's gone, and I'm glad you enjoyed it." ->glad]] [["It's a lot, Morael. I need some time to think, okay?" ->thanksMorael]]

He shakes his head, sitting up. "Your ability to assimilate all this astonishes me, Seline. I could not have been so understanding." Looking down at the crimson silk, he thoughtfully traces a line of embroidery with one strong, graceful hand. You can almost feel his fingertips. (set: $data's likesM to it + 2) His golden eyes gleam, lovely and ambiguous. The expression that you read as kindness in the half-light of the lantern, now seems like something else. Desire? Affection? Eagerness? Or is he just thinking about the arteries pulsing beneath your skin? "Seline," he says, softly. "Will you marry me?" [["*What?*" ->whatMarry]](if: $data's marryR is 1)[ [["Morael, I'm engaged to Rain!" ->engagedRain]]]

Seduced Rain Fucked Andreas Sex with Kiaru Blood Donor Cursebreaker Warrior (various levels) Kind & Caring (various levels) Liar (various levels) Animal Friend (various levels) Badass Bitch (various levels) Flirt (various levels) Seducer (various levels) Savior of Saragai Patriot Virgin Queen Daddy's Girl Rain Proposed Morael Proposed Got The Ring Lost the Game Played the Game Escaped the Game Given A Pony Given A Sword

You gasp. It's Morael - alive! Can it be true? Something chills you. It's him - yet not him. He's human - or is he? He moves with the fluid grace of a god or a wild stag, yet unnaturally quick, like a marionette dragged by spirits; when he hesitates, he shivers. His auburn hair is bright, his face half-shadowed. Lamplight cannot warm the half you see; his skin is ice-pale, and the eye is no longer deep amber, but brilliant cat-gold and glimmering with... tears? He stands still, trembling, but meeting your gaze determinedly. "Do not... do not be afraid," he says. [["Morael... what's happened to you?" ->whatHappenedMorael]] [["Stay back!" ->getAwayMorael]]

"Yes." He no longer flinches; he seems determined to meet your rejection with dignity and calm. "I will not mislead you. That hunger is part of me, now and evermore." [["You don't seem to understand. You're a monster." ->monster]]

Your gaze flickers around the shadowy room. You're avoiding his eyes, but also automatically seeking options. Nothing. You could, in theory, break a wooden chair, use the splintered fragment. As if. Even before, he was stronger and faster than you. And if the stories are true... He doesn't seem to want to hurt you, for now, but he also doesn't seem like he'll submit quietly to staking. All of these thoughts pass through your mind in the split second before your innocent gaze returns to Morael's face.

"Did you ever wonder why the Sorcerer was so determined to depose me?" [["I don't know, maybe you were too heroic for his tastes?" ->tooHeroic]] [["I guess I never really thought about it." ->whySorc]]

The boy turns bright pink, and his plump lips wobble with rage. "Oh, yeah? You spoiled bitch, my dad's getting rid of you once and for all. He always said you were a -" Torveld folds his arms, clearly amused. "Your son seems to have no difficulty recognizing my daughter, Pendrake." Raddibore sputters. Pendrake draws himself up like an offended heron. Then he starts to cough again. Acrid black smoke is pouring from the lantern. You can barely see. Arms folded, Torveld steps in front of you protectively. "Guards!" he calls. The soldiers salute smartly. Raddibore ignores them, and moves toward the King, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "Your Majesty, you are not well. This ...person... intends to take advantage of your grief. I beg you, do not be taken in by such treachery!" Torveld's eyes blaze, and his mouth becomes a thin line. (if: $data's toldT is 1)[(display: "tKnowsRad")](else:)["Remove Sir Raddibore at once!" he snaps. For a moment, the guards look at one another. Then they turn and advance on Raddibore, pikes lowered. As the guards approach, Sir Raddibore stands alone, breathing heavily. His eyes bulge with desperation. "Sire! No! She's the traitor, not I!" Torveld scowls. "I said, remove him!" (display: "radAttacksYouTent")]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's fight to it + 1) (if: $success is true)[Your blade clatters against the pike, which swings aside. Your assailant snarls. "On your knees, bitch!" (display: "duck")](else:)[Your blade clatters against the pike, which swings aside and hits the lantern. (display: "burn")]

You back into a pole, and feel the tent tremble. The pikemen advance. From the corner of your eye, you glimpse your father, blade dripping, standing over a pair of bloodied corpses. His attackers still surround him, darting in and out like jackals, never quite daring to engage him. The King has dropped into a fighting pose, aged hands trembling on his jeweled greatsword. His eyes blaze with furious contempt. Years seem to drop away with every slash at his attackers. Glancing at you, he chuckles. "Ah, Seline. I've missed the feel of a blade in my hands! Almost as much as I missed you!" You bite your lip. [["Dad!!! Be careful!" ->dad]] [["And you called *me* a lunatic." ->lunatic]]

There's a whoosh as flaming oil meets canvas, and incandescent gold suddenly illuminates the cluster of men surrounding Torveld. You struggle toward your father, clamping your sleeve across your mouth. The heat grows searing as the flames spread. The man who attacked you screams, entangled in burning, falling canvas. The tent's ceiling is collapsing. You can't reach your father. You hear a shout, and the thunder of hooves. Someone slashes aside the canvas, and you're out in the starry night, lungs burning and heart pounding. Others are fighting their way out of the flaming remnants of the tent. The buckskin mare clatters to a halt beside you, white-eyed, flat-eared and stamping in the flying cinders. Behind the helm's shadow, dark eyes flash. "Must I kidnap you *again*, Highness?" The flames tower higher. Red-hot fragments fly upon the wind. Some land upon adjacent tents and catch. "Let's go!" Tertia gallops up, leading Blueberry. Nyora's close behind. [[Run. ->riotsCamp]] [["No! I have to save my father!" ->saveTheKingCamp]]

He scowls at you. "Careful? Of these pond-scum?" But his voice quavers slightly, and the men, grinning, close in. One of the pikemen makes another thrust at you. Distracted by your father's plight, you fail to parry in time. The blow knocks you flat, dislodging a tent-pole. The lantern sways wildly and falls. (display: "burn")

Your father's grin widens, and he slashes viciously at his attackers. They fall back. "Now, any man who doesn't want to dangle from a tree tonight had best switch sides," he tells them. His voice no longer quavers; it has the rich, deep tone of command you'd almost forgotten from your childhood. He stands straightbacked, eyes glittering with frank bloodlust. His attackers look at one another, unnerved. You can't blame them. Where is the doddering, tearful old man who embraced you just hours ago? The pikemen surrounding you are equally distracted. "What are you waiting for?" screeches Raddibore from behind them. "Kill him! Do it now!" He's staring at your father, ignoring you. [[Dash to your father. ->runFather]] [[(set: $difficulty to 10)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Attack Sir Raddibore. ->attackRad]]

You leap to your father's side. He's grinning viciously. "Cowards!" he jeers at your attackers. "What, you daren't take on one old man and a girl?" Sir Raddibore is dancing with rage. "What's wrong with you? Fools! Kill them! Now!" Feet tramp through the door: the King's guard has at last arrived. "Your Majesty!" The guards dash towards the King. Raddibore's henchmen bolt past them and out the door. "Pursue them! Traitors!" roars Torveld, gesticulating frantically. Surrounded by guards, Sir Raddibore stands alone, breathing heavily. His eyes bulge with desperation. "You'll never see me hang, bitch!" he snarls, and hurls himself at you. You grip your blade. He slashes wildly at you. You parry his furious strikes, too fast for thought - then see an opening. With one smooth stroke you sweep your sword across Raddibore's throat. His mouth opens in a silent scream as he crumples sideways, head dangling, severed clear to the spine. Blood fountains across the tent. (display: "afterFight")

As you bolt across the tent, your leg catches on an angled pole. You fall flat on your belly, winded, and the lantern crashes to the ground. You struggle to your feet. But it's too late. (display: "burn")

"To provoke me? No, surely... it cannot be. His loyalty has always been beyond reproach. Somehow, he must have been deceived..." [["He had his servant steal my locket, and hung it upon a disfigured corpse." ->kingCries]] [["Let us talk of this later, Father." ->laterDad]]

"Seline..." The King's misted eyes blink rapidly. "I can hardly comprehend this.

Torveld nods shakily. (display: "tooMuch")

"This is too much, Seline! You shall have to tell me the whole story later - until I saw your face, the whole world was a graveyard to me.(if: $data's toldT is 0)[ Now, my heart overflows with joy, and you tell me I must hate (if: $data's vampire is 1)[the friend I mourn](else:)[my dearest friend]?](else:)[. My only hope was that you might yet return to me again. Now, my heart overflows.] Oh, let me just embrace you!" His sinewy old arms wrap tightly around you, and he buries his face in your hair. "My child, you have no idea..." Sobs wrench his body. At last he controls himself, wiping his eyes and pushing you to arms-length. [["Father, King Estevan is waiting. He has shown honor in letting me return to you. Now it is your turn." ->waitingFather]] [["Father, you must release Prince Rain." ->releaseRain]]

"He ...*lied*? No, that cannot be. Sir Raddibore would not lie to me. He (if: $data's vampire is 1)[was always](else:)[has always been] the most loyal of my servants. Perhaps... could it be... he was deceived?" [["He had his servant steal my locket, and hung it upon a disfigured corpse." ->kingCries]] [["Sir Raddibore betrayed you, Father. He told you I was dead to provoke you into war with Saragai." ->kingCries1]] (if: $data's vampire is 1)[[["*Was*? Is he gone?" ->radGoneVTIgSS]]](else:)[[["Yes, father. I'm sorry, but it's true. The proof is right before your eyes." ->kingCries]]]

(display: "dice")(set: $data's fight to it + 1) (if: $success is true)[You roll beneath the pikemen's blades and sweep your sword across Raddibore's throat in one smooth movement. His mouth opens in a silent scream as he crumples sideways, head dangling, severed clear to the spine. Blood fountains across the tent. Feet tramp through the door: the King's guard has at last arrived. "Your Majesty!" The guards dash towards the King. Raddibore's henchmen bolt past them and out the door. "Pursue them! Traitors!" roars Torveld. The guards rush out; beyond the door, swords clash and men scream, dying. The sounds do not last long; it seems the insurrection has ended as abruptly as it began. (display: "afterFight")](else:)[You roll beneath the pikemen's blades, slashing at Raddibore's throat. But Raddibore is less inattentive than he seems - he steps back, your sword flies wide, and he chuckles scornfully. "Come *on*," he says. "Do it now! The man who takes his head will be a Baron!" (display: "runFather")]

As you stand panting in shock, staring at the blood pooling under Raddibore's corpse, a hand claps you on the shoulder. You spin, blade ready once more - but it's your father. He chuckles. "Well done, lass. I must say, you surprised me." [["Haven't I always surprised you, Father?" ->alwaysSurprise]] [["You're safe now, Father." ->safeFather]]

Your father starts to scowl, but then an odd rictus crosses his face. You stare at him. Is he choking? Having a fit? A curious, rhythmic convulsion shakes his body. He's laughing. At last he collects his wits enough to reply. "That you did, lass. That you did." He wipes away tears. "Well. Now we merely have Estevan to deal with." [["If you wish to be safe from Estevan, Father, you need only treat with him fairly." ->treatWithEstevan]] [["Maybe it's time we went home, then?" ->noProvoke]]

"Safe! Camped under Isholme's eaves, with Estevan's dogs near enough to nip my balls? I should think not!" [["If you wish to be safe from Estevan, Father, you need only treat with him fairly." ->treatWithEstevan]] [["Maybe it's time we went home, then?" ->noProvoke]]

"Oh, aye. Treat with that serpent, shall I? Offer him mice and rabbits?" [["He's not a serpent, Dad. He's a perfectly reasonable old man." ->perfectlyReasonable]] [["Maybe you'd get along better if you stopped comparing him to a reptile?" ->reptile]]

"And leave your mother's ghost unsatisfied?" King Torveld sighs, gazing around the blood-spattered tent. "I suppose you're right. We're never getting into Isholme now. I shall summon my war council and tell them it's time to pack up." [["My mother's ghost? Wait... what's this got to do with her?" ->whatAgainstEstevan]] [["You're making the right choice, Dad." ->rightDad]]

"Reasonable! You don't know the half of it, Seline!" Your father shakes his head, muttering incoherently. [["Dad... what have you really got against him, anyway?" ->whatAgainstEstevan]] [["I guess not. But we're not going to win this war, and as you say, this isn't the safest spot to be camped. Maybe it's time we went home?" ->noProvoke]]

"You think I *want* to get on better with that serpent?" [["Why wouldn't you? Dad... what have you really got against him, anyway?" ->whatAgainstEstevan]] [["He's not a serpent, Dad. He's a perfectly reasonable old man." ->perfectlyReasonable]]

Torveld stares at you. "Wait... you don't know? Did I really never tell you?" (set: $data's knowsMomHistory to 1) The old King gestures toward the log. He seats himself beside you with a sigh. "I suppose I never found the right moment. Eighteen years, and I didn't..." "Your Majesty!" A soldier marches in. Though he salutes smartly, his eyes dart around the tent's carnage before settling on the pair of you huddled upon the log. His eyes widen as he stares at you. "The traitors have been rounded up and put to the sword. But Sire... are you well?" Torveld smiles. "I am very well, boy. I have not been better in years. Now, leave us. Summon my war leaders. But give us a few minutes alone, first." With many a backward glance, the soldier exits. The King turns to you. "Now, where was I?" [["You were telling me why you hate Estevan." ->whyHateEstevan]] [["You were saying that it's time we went home." ->homeTime]]

"It all started when I met your mother. I was just a lad, new to the throne, head full of sunshine and dandelion-fuzz. I'd traveled to the court of Hysberad, south of Saragai, to see their Queen wed." [["Hysberad? I've never heard of a place called that." ->hysberad]] [["Go on." ->goOnDad]]

"No, Seline... I was telling you why I hate Estevan. Let me continue! I was remiss in not explaining this before. You think me merely a spiteful old warmonger, don't you? And maybe that was easier than telling you the truth... But we must all face the truth eventually. And you're old enough to understand - at least, as much as anyone does." He sighs. You open your mouth, but before you can speak, he continues: (display: "whyHateEstevan")

Your father looks grim. "That's because it doesn't exist any more." He pauses a moment, as though lost in thought. (display: "goOnDad")

"Well, the Queen and Estevan didn't see eye to eye. She was a beautiful woman, Queen Tarvia of Hysberad. Didn't show her age at all. But Estevan feared her. He was always muttering. At first it was just snide comments - remarks about her teeth, her skin, and so on. Then, in his cups at one of the great balls, he started to speculate about what had happened to her previous husband. "It was ill form, and I told him so. He mocked me in reply. But I paid him little heed, for at that moment a vision passed before my eyes - a vision of incomparable loveliness. I could think of nothing else... Ah! The way she moved - the swing of those rounded hips, the softness in her -" [["TMI, Dad!" ->tmi]] [["Was that... Mum?" ->mum]]

"Ahem! Sorry, lass. But you should know, your mother was Tarvia's daughter, and a beautiful woman." (display: "dadstory")

He nods. "She was Tarvia's daughter, and the loveliest sight I'd ever laid eyes upon." (display: "dadstory")

Your mind races, trying to process this. But Torveld continues, his rheumy old eyes aglow with memory. "From the moment I saw her, I could think of nothing else. And when she saw me looking at her - she smiled - a smile like the sun itself. I screwed up my courage and asked her to dance, and when she said yes, my whole world turned over. She took my hand, and I was hers, lass, then and ever since." Torveld falls silent, gazing misty-eyed across the tent. You are about to prompt him when he continues: "But Estevan wouldn't leave us be. I could understand his jealousy - what man wouldn't envy me, at her side? But his jibes grew ever more pointed, his barbs more cruel, until he all but accused Tarvia to her face." [["Accused her of what, exactly?" ->accusedWhat]] [["That doesn't sound like him." ->unlikeEst]]

Your father scowls. "Oh, wild things, Seline. Impossible things. Never mind that - it's nothing that should concern you. (display: "insulted")

"Perhaps he's changed, then. People do, you know. (display: "insulted")

The point is, he insulted them outrageously. I could not let it pass." [["So you were defending Mum." ->defendingMum]] [["So that's how all this started? Decades of war, over some stupid insults at a wedding?" ->insultsWedding]]

"Defending her people. Your grandmother, Seline! (display: "broughtback")

"Oh, that was just the beginning. (display: "broughtback")

Torveld nods. "I suppose I should have. I thought your old Nurse would have, but perhaps she was leaving it to me. Or perhaps she thought there was no use in digging up old grievances. Especially since Hysberad no longer even existed." [["I still find it hard to imagine Estevan being so cold-blooded." ->coldblooded]] [["Dad... what happened to Mum? Nobody at the palace would talk about how she..." ->whatMum]]

I brought your mother back to Stelgarte, but the tensions between Saragai and Hysberad grew ever worse. You see, Saragai wanted to annex Hysberad. So Estevan had it spread about that Queen Tarvia was a - was a - never mind, you know. And that her people must be liberated from her unnatural appetites, and so on. The usual lies." King Torveld spits on the earthen floor. "He even came to me. Congratulated me on rescuing your mother from the evil queen's clutches, and asked me to ally with him against her! The gall of the man, thinking I'd support his vendetta against my child's grandmother. So - we knew what he was planning. Your mother begged me to attack Saragai. And I did. I could never refuse her, could I? But I wasn't quick enough. Before I could get there, Estevan had marched in and cut off Queen Tarvia's head. He renamed that region Khargai, and it's been part of Saragai ever since." His pale eyes meet yours, full of old, stale anger and grief. "Now do you understand? All this bloodshed, from Estevan's greed and jealousy." [["So... Queen Tarvia was my grandmother. And Estevan murdered her. Why didn't anybody tell me this before?" ->grandma]] [["I still find it hard to imagine Estevan being so cold-blooded." ->coldblooded]] [["Dad... what happened to Mum? Nobody at the palace would talk about how she..." ->whatMum]]

"You didn't know him in his youth, Seline. He was worse than that red-headed grandson of his. Morael. An idealistic fool, by all accounts, but at least he(if: $data's vampire is 1)['s](else:)[ was] no crusader." [["Dad... what happened to Mum? Nobody at the palace would talk about how she..." ->whatMum]]

Before you can reply, the tent flap opens, and a page marches in. Seeing you still in conversation, he bows apologetically. "Your Majesty," he says. "The war council are assembled outside." King Torveld grimaces. "Very well." He turns to you. "It *is* time we went home, lass." The page makes to leave. "One moment, boy." Leaning on your shoulder, King Torveld hoists himself to his feet. He hobbles over to Raddibore's corpse and gives it a sharp kick. "Now, send them in." (display: "ch19")

Double-click this passage to edit it.

King Torveld's guards dash toward Raddibore. He hesitates, staring wildly around as they close in from all sides. "No, stop! You don't understand! It was her!" Eyes bulging with terror, he turns back to you, plump hands extended. His face is a mask of malicious desperation. "You won't live to see me hang, bitch!" Grimly, you ready your sword. [["Surrender, Raddibore! You don't stand a chance!" ->surrenderTraitorTent]] [["I'll settle for seeing your entrails now, traitor!" ->entrailsTraitorTent]]

"Never! Everything I've ever done was for Thronheim! And so is this!" (display: "entrailsTraitorTent")

(if: $radarmed is 0)[He runs toward you. Almost by reflex, your sword chops downward. It scrapes against bone, then sinks deeper below. Raddibore screams, tumbling backward, a line of red opening from chest to belly. He crumples to the ground, hands flailing against the dirt floor. His body jerks feebly, and his movements grow sluggish as the blood pools around him. (display: "afterFight")](else:)[He runs toward you, slashing wildly in a frenzy of hatred. Almost by reflex, your sword chops downward. It scrapes against bone, then sinks deeper below. Raddibore screams, tumbling backward, a line of red opening from chest to belly. He crumples to the ground, hands flailing against the dirt floor. His body jerks feebly, and his movements grow sluggish as the blood pools around him. (display: "afterFight")]

Your father bows his head. For a long time, he's silent - so long you think he won't answer. When he does speak, his voice is thick and hoarse, barely audible. "It was my fault, Seline. She... I was away, fighting in Saragai when it happened. Had I been there, it would never have happened." He pauses, as if he's explained anything. [["When *what* happened, Father?" ->whenWhat]] [[Say nothing. ->nothing]]

Someone shouts. A knot of soldiers advance toward you. They wear the colors of Thronheim, but their grim scowls and ready swords make their intent clear. "Don't try to reason with them, Highness," warns Nyora. "Raddibore owns these men, and with the King gone, your father's allies won't stand a chance." "Time to run, Highness," says Andreas. [["Never! My people need me! I can't leave them to a tyrant like Raddibore!" ->noLeave]] [["Yes, for now. We need to gather our strength, and find allies. This isn't over!" ->isntOver]]

Nyora's eyes blaze furiously. "Your kingdom's lost, Princess. All that's left to save is your life." "These are our people, Nyora! S-surely there are some who will recognize her!" Tertia's voice trembles. You've never seen her stand up to Nyora before. "She'd be cut down before she ever found them," Andreas's tone is brutal. His black gaze is fixed upon the rapidly approaching soldiers. "Come *on*, Highness." You sigh, unable to refute him. (display: "endingTent")

(display: "endingTent")

With the lost prince of Saragai at your side, you gallop away from the flaming encampment. Fury wells in you, warming you like fire. You've lost everything - your inheritance is gone, your ambitions in tatters, your father murdered and your very existence denied. Yellowtooth has won. You're fleeing into exile. And yet, as you glance around at your companions, you feel a sudden certainty. One day, you will undo this evil. Not today, perhaps not for many years. But Saragai knows the justice of your cause, and its Princes remain your friends. You will reclaim your homeland and avenge your father. But for now, you are no Princess, but merely a desperate fugitive, galloping in darkness to a kind of freedom you never anticipated. THE END. (display: "THE END")

(display: "endingTent")

Shaking his head, he continues. "Estevan thought I'd rescued your mother, but the rumours he'd started never died away. Even in Stelgarte, some believed them, and there were others it suited to fan those flames with wicked elaborations, proclaiming the whole bloodline tainted." He sighs. "I should never have left her unprotected. But she was so strong... I couldn't have imagined... They came into her room, Seline. Staked her through the heart and burned her corpse to ashes. Zealots. They didn't even try to hide their crime!" (set: $data's deadT to 1) You wince, picturing the scene, constructing the image of your mother from the few portraits you've been shown. It's painful, yet impersonal, for you cannot really pretend to remember her. Who was she, really? Did she scream and beg? Or did she meet them coldly, with dignity and despair? Your hand goes to the place where your locket should be, and your fist clenches on empty air. Somehow, the more your father tells you, the less you feel you know her. Your father mistakes your silence for fury. (display: "nothing")

"I had them executed, Seline," he assures you. "Every man of them. The sect was rooted out, and every courtier who had ever expressed a word of support for them died in the most bloody fashion I could devise." (display: "council")

##Epilogue Victory emboldens the King of Thronheim. His forces sweep across Saragai like a forest fire, gaining strength even as they ravage the land. You see no further battle, for you are sent home under close guard. But you cannot escape awareness of the war, for the lines of clanking, stinking slaves that march through Stelgarte's port grow ever longer. Thronheim prospers from this trade: the city streets are cleaned and widened, the palace renovated, and Saragaian delicacies feature at every meal. Torveld resolves never to let Saragai escape his grasp again, and institutes a reign of terror to crush the will of the people. Your pleas on their behalf merely enrage him further. Though your father still ignores your political opinions, your assistance in defeating Raddibore seems to inspire some modicum of respect in him. He will not hear of you marrying a Saragaian, but he does not force you to marry anyone else either. And so when, after five years, he passes away peacefully in his bed, you are left unencumbered, the sole ruler of Thronheim and Saragai. Ultimate power lies within your grasp. Perhaps you will graciously liberate Saragai? Neither Morael nor Andreas has been heard from since the war. You could support Rain as an independent ruler, compliant viceroy or even an equal partner. Or perhaps you will tighten your grip, and weld your two nations into an unstoppable empire that will dominate the continent for centuries to come. The future is in your hands. (if: $data's wager is 1)[(if: $data's lostGame is 1)[Or so you are allowed to believe, for now...]] (display: "THE END")

##Epilogue With both Kings dead and Saragai weakened by the loss of the warship *Leviathan*, ultimate power lies within your grasp. Saragai has no effective heir: Andreas is unknown to his people, Morael remains a helpless dog, and Rain has ever been your tool. Your surviving generals assure you that - should you command it - your armies will sweep through Saragai like a forest fire. Perhaps you will be merciful? Now that the war is over, there is nothing to prevent you freeing Morael from his curse... or at least, attempting to. Or you could support Rain, as an independent ruler, compliant viceroy or even an equal partner. Or perhaps you will tighten your grip on Saragai, and weld your two nations into an unstoppable empire that will dominate the continent for centuries to come. The future is in your hands. (if: $data's wager is 1)[(if: $data's lostGame is 1)[Or so you are allowed to believe, for now...]] (display: "THE END")

##Epilogue It is many months before you can clearly appreciate the events that followed. You are told that after days of bitter fighting across Isholme, you were found unconscious in the square, trapped beneath the arrow-riddled corpse of a notorious Saragaian bandit. No doubt he was shot whilst attempting to loot your body. You were carried home to Stelgarte in a litter, weak and delirious, and remain bedridden for weeks after. Though Thronheim carried the day in Isholme, the cost was terrible; both nations were left devastated. Yet even a Pyrrhic victory emboldened the King of Thronheim. His forces swept across Saragai like a forest fire, gaining strength as they ravaged the land. Throughout your convalescence, the lines of clanking, stinking slaves that marched through Stelgarte's port grew ever longer. Thronheim prospered from this trade: the city streets were cleaned and widened, the palace renovated, and Saragaian delicacies featured at every meal. Torveld resolved never to let Saragai escape his grasp again, and instituted a reign of terror to crush the will of the people. Your pleas on their behalf merely enraged him further. Fortunately, in your weakened state, there was no question of you marrying. And so when, after five years, he passed away peacefully in his bed, you were left unencumbered, the sole ruler of Thronheim and Saragai. When the time comes to set aside your grief, you find your position is far from hopeless. With both Kings dead and Saragai at your mercy, ultimate power lies within your grasp. Saragai has no effective heir: Andreas and Morael are gone, and Rain has ever been your tool. Perhaps you will graciously liberate Saragai? You could support Rain, as an independent ruler, compliant viceroy or even an equal partner. Or perhaps you will tighten your grip on Saragai, and weld your two nations into an unstoppable empire that will dominate the continent for centuries to come. The future is in your hands. (if: $data's lostGame is 1)[Or so you are permitted to believe - for now.]

Something slams into your chest. You gasp for a breath that doesn't come; your hands grip the arrow limply, and you fall, coughing red rain upon the cobbles as the sky turns black. THE END (if: $aDead is 0)[(if: $torveldLives is 1)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMdead]]](else:)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueMdeadTdead]]]](else:)[[[Epilogue ->epilogueAdeadMdeadTdead]]]

Ignoring Raddibore, he gestures at the courtiers. "Arrest these traitorous dogs!" "But Your Majesty -" objects Athrel, gaping. "Sire - w-we meant no disrespect -" stammers Pendrake. "Father!" squeals Rodrick. "They're -" The soldiers, stony-faced, chain their hands and march them out of the tent. Others move quietly to surround Raddibore. He stiffens. Torveld's scowl fades as he turns and winks at you. "See, lass? I knew there were traitors amoung the inner court. And now, we have only to deal with the slimiest reptile of them all." Staring at Raddibore, his face grows dark with fury. "The one who abused my trust and violated my own child. My dearest *friend.* A swift death is too good for you. No, for every minute of her pain, you shall live another day in the hands of my most competent torturer. Guards, detain Sir Raddibore!" Raddibore hesitates, staring wildly around as the guards close in. "No, stop! You - you don't understand!" Eyes bulging with terror, he turns back to you, plump hands extended. His face is a mask of malicious desperation. "This is all *your* fault! You won't live to see me executed, bitch!" Grimly, you ready your sword. [["Surrender, Raddibore! You don't stand a chance!" ->surrenderTraitorTent]] [["I'll settle for seeing your entrails now, traitor!" ->entrailsTraitorTent]]

(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)]

<hr> Thanks for reading!

As you emerge from the tent, you hear drums and the tramping of feet; a troop of foot-soldiers of Thronheim marching behind their King. A full orchestra walks in their midst, trumpets and pipes a-gleam. The soldiers' bearing is proud, weariness forgotten as the light of glory shines in their eyes. As they glimpse you, the drummers falter, and a murmur rises from the troops. "Behold!" announces Torveld. "The Princess Seline is returned to us!" The murmur becomes a roar. The soldiers press closer, cheering and shouting and laughing in sheer delight. The nearest throw themselves down to kiss your feet. Torveld smiles at you shakily. "Stand beside me in this moment, the greatest victory of our reign. For this is your triumph too, Seline. I know you did not intend it, Seline, but without your help, I would never have conquered Saragai." [[Gripping your hand, he leads you toward the gates of Saragai. ->vampMoraelPalace]]

{ (if: $recap is 1)[*(if: $data's savedSaragai is 0)[(if: $data's vampire is 0)[Seline set out to enter Isholme alone, intending to warn King Estevan of the treachery against him. However, she failed to convince Estevan and was forced to return to her father.](else:)[Seline set out to enter Isholme alone, intending to warn King Estevan of the treachery against him. However, she quickly realized that she was unlikely to succeed in convincing Estevan. And in any case, her own interests would be better served by Estevan's death and the subjugation of Saragai. So she set out to return to her father instead. It seems recent events have made her less sentimental, which can only be a good thing.]](else:)[(if: $data's vampire is 0)[Seline and Morael set forth for Isholme, but they were accosted by soldiers and Morael was lost. ]Alone, Seline found her way to Isholme and King Estevan's palace. A chance encounter reunited her with Tertia and Nyora, who told her that Rain had been captured by Torveld. Seline convinced King Estevan that his wine had been poisoned, and the trio worked together to hunt down the traitor. Despite his gratitude, the King thought it best to detain her until the siege was defeated.]* (display: "skills") -----] (else:)[ (link: "Show recap")[ (set: $recap to 1) (replace: ?recap)[(display: "recap")] ] ] }

##Epilogue Excerpt from: Salamander, K. (1726). Birth of the Empire. Chapter 1 in *A Brief History of Early Thorogai* (pp. 28-29) Stelgarte, TH: Academy Press. In the final years before Unification, tensions between Thronheim and Saragai escalated due to the disappearance of the heirs of both kingdoms, culminating in Thronheim's invasion of Saragai. Though certain details are disputed among historians, there is a broad consensus as to the following facts. After the death of King Estevan in the siege of Isholme, Crown Prince Morael of Saragai abruptly returned to claim the throne. Observers noted that the Prince had matured greatly during his unexplained quest, and now displayed the confidence and decisiveness worthy of his heritage. Though pale of complexion and rarely seen in daylight, his strength and fearlessness in battle was often commented upon. He was crowned unchallenged and, in a masterful strategic move, expelled the invaders, slaughtering King Torveld along with his armies. He then married Princess Seline of Thronheim, unifying the nations to establish the empire of Thorogai. Morael's reign was distinguished by his remarkable expansionist ambition, liberating many neighbouring realms and bringing them into the orderly and prosperous Empire. During these military campaigns, the Lady Nyora distinguished herself with daring and strategic brilliance; her ceaseless ferocity contributed to greatly to the Empire's glory. Internally, the Empire's justice system was likewise ruthlessly efficient, and the Emperor took great personal interest in the disposal of criminals. Little is known of the Empress Seline, who lived a secluded life confined to the palace grounds. In particular, the circumstances surrounding the Empress's tragic death at age 38 have never been elucidated. What is known is that her broken body was found at the base of her tower bedroom, alongside that of a notorious Saragaian bandit, Andreas de Silvio. (display: "THE END")

Andreas dashes forward. Morael thrusts you to one side. You hear his laughter as you fall, and the clash of blades. You look up, and horror overwhelms you. Andreas staggers, Morael's dagger in his chest. (set: $aDead to 1) For one brief moment, his dark eyes meet yours. Time seems to stand still. Though he's ten feet away, you can feel the desperate pounding of his heart. Then he's falling, silent, crumpled. Morael kicks the body aside. He grins at you, sharp teeth glittering. "He always was an embarrassment to the family." (if: $torveldLives is 1)["Seline, run!" Torveld shouts. But it's too late.] Morael's hands close around your body, cold and hard as iron. (if: $stake is 1)[[[(set: $difficulty to 10+$data's likesM/5)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Stake Morael. ->stakeMorael]]](else:)[[[Fight. ->fightMorael]]] [["Morael, let me go!" ->abduction]]

Andreas hesitates. (if: $stake is 1)[[[(set: $difficulty to 10+$data's likesM/10)(set: $skill_name to "Fight")(display: "makeDice"): Stake Morael. ->stakeMorael]]](else:)[[[Fight. ->fightMorael]]] [["Morael, let me go!" ->abduction]]

##Epilogue Excerpt from: Salamander, K. (1726). Birth of the Empire. Chapter 1 in *A Brief History of Early Thorogai* (pp. 28-29) Stelgarte, TH: Academy Press. In the final years before Unification, tensions between Thronheim and Saragai escalated due to the disappearance of the heirs of both kingdoms, culminating in Thronheim's invasion of Saragai. Though certain details are disputed among historians, there is a broad consensus as to the following facts. After King Estevan was assassinated during the siege of Isholme, Crown Prince Morael of Saragai abruptly returned to claim the throne. However, his rule lasted mere days, with Morael dying in battle on the steps of Isholme's palace alongside King Torveld, Princess Seline and Prince Rain. This slaughter left no obvious line of succession for either realm. In the ensuing power vaccuum, the little-known Count Kiaru emerged as a unifying voice with strong ties to both nations. With the horrors of war fresh in their minds, the nobility resolved to ensure a lasting piece by uniting the realms and electing Kiaru as the first Emperor of Thorogai. Kiaru was crowned to universal acclaim. His reign was distinguished by many decades of peace and justice in the newly-unified Empire of Thorogai. The wealth of the Empire grew rapidly under Kiaru's wise rule, and old tensions were forgotten as prosperity spread throughout the land. Many neighboring lands, hearing of the extraordinary prosperity of the empire, volunteered to join. Others the Emperor was obliged to liberate through military action. During these campaigns, the Lady Nyora distinguished herself with daring and strategic brilliance; her ceaseless ferocity contributed to greatly to the Empire's glory. The Emperor was especially noted for his patronage of the arts, which reached untold heights during his reign. This cultural renaissance, along with unprecedented wealth and stability, undoubtedly contributed to an atmosphere of intellectual freedom which stimulated development of the printing press, the telescope, and other modern technologies. (display: "THE END")

##Epilogue Excerpt from: Salamander, K. (1726). Birth of the Empire. Chapter 1 in *A Brief History of Early Thorogai* (pp. 28-29) Stelgarte, TH: Academy Press. In the final years before Unification, tensions between Thronheim and Saragai escalated due to the disappearance of the heirs of both kingdoms, culminating in Thronheim's invasion of Saragai. Though certain details are disputed among historians, there is a broad consensus as to the following facts. After the death of King Estevan in the siege of Isholme, Prince Morael of Saragai abruptly returned to claim the throne. Observers noted that the Prince had matured greatly during his unexplained quest, and now displayed the confidence and decisiveness worthy of his heritage. Though pale of complexion and rarely seen in daylight, his strength and fearlessness in battle was often commented upon. He was crowned unchallenged and, in a masterful strategic move, expelled the invaders, slaughtering King Torveld along with his armies. He then married Princess Seline of Thronheim, unifying the nations to establish the empire of Thorogai. Morael's reign was distinguished by his remarkable expansionist ambition, liberating many neighbouring realms and bringing them into the orderly and prosperous Empire. During these military campaigns, the Lady Nyora distinguished herself with daring and strategic brilliance; her ceaseless ferocity contributed to greatly to the Empire's glory. Internally, the Empire's justice system was likewise ruthlessly efficient, and the Emperor took great personal interest in the disposal of criminals. (display: "THE END")

He looks, for the first time, startled. Then he laughs, eye-teeth flashing. "You do not understand how this happened? Truly? Then, Seline, you are the only person in the two kingdoms who does not. Ask your father!" You look at Torveld. He avoids your eyes. Something twists inside you. You know him too well to misunderstand. [["Father? You... *know*! Don't try to deny it! What is he talking about?" ->whatVampDad]] [["It doesn't really matter what happened. I swear I'll do my best to help you. But right now, you know what you must do. Surrender, Morael!" ->softLookUp]]

"It's a lie!" Your father still refuses to meet your eyes. "It's nothing to do with us!" Morael shakes his head, lips quirked in amusement. "Of course. She didn't tell you what she did to me. And *you* never told her her mother's story, nor her grandmother's." For a split second, Torveld's gaze flickers toward you, full of horror and fear. Then he glares at Morael again, who smiles languidly. "Even in Saragai, the rumours reached us. Will you tell her, or shall I?" "Malicious lies, born of Estevan's greed! Do not listen to him, Seline!" "My grandfather was never greedy, Torveld. He was an idealistic fool, as I was once. Of course he was wrong to try to eradicate the bloodline - a monster like me is precisely what these times call for. Your daughter's magic is an enviable gift." [["Magic?" ->magicBlood]] [["Eradicate the bloodline?" ->eradicate]]

He scowls at you. "Don't talk down to me, you impudent child!" (display: "council")

"The ability to create vampires, of course. Like your grandmother, Queen Tarvia of Hysberad. Rumors say your mother too." (set: $magicblood to 1) "Lies! Seline, don't listen to him. You're no vampire - you're as human as I am!" Torveld's chest heaves. He's red-faced with fury - you guess that only the blade fixed at his throat prevents him striking Morael. "Indeed, your daughter herself possesses scant vampiric traits. Certain works in the Library of Isholme describe such a condition. The talent is passed along the maternal line. That, no doubt, is why the Sorcerer was curious about her blood." He turns to speak to you. "As for seeking a cure, it is well known that vampirism is an irreversible state. And I hope I have made it clear that I prefer it so." [["Did you say Estevan tried to eradicate my bloodline?" ->eradicate]] [["Then you leave me no alternative. Morael, you know you cannot defeat us now. Surrender!" ->softLookUp]]

"Yes. Queen Tarvia, your grandmother, held court in Hysberad. Estevan heard many dark rumours of her tyranny, her iron will enforced by bloodthirsty revenants. And he knew that this power was the magical gift of her lineage." Torveld snorts. "Nonsense! I visited Tarvia's court myself. She was a wise and beautiful Queen." "That, of all things, I would not dispute." Morael shrugs. "But it is also true that Estevan fully intended liberate the people of Hysberad and eliminate the bloodline that made Tarvia's dominion possible. The former he achieved when he killed Tarvia. But your father married Tarvia's daughter - and the rest is history." (if: $magicblood is 1)[[["Well. Enough history, then. Morael, you know you cannot defeat us now. Surrender!" ->softLookUp]]](else:)[[["But I'm not a vampire!" ->notAVamp]]] [["Father, is this true?" ->isitTrue]]

"Indeed, you yourself possess scant vampiric traits. Certain works in the Library of Isholme describe such a condition. The talent is passed along the maternal line. That, no doubt, is why the Sorcerer was curious about your blood." Meeting your eyes, he adds, "As for seeking a cure, it is well known that vampirism is an irreversible state. And I hope I have made it clear that I prefer it so." [["Then you leave me no alternative. Morael, you know you cannot defeat us now. Surrender!" ->softLookUp]] [["Father, is any of this true?" ->isitTrue]]

"Of course not!" scoffs Torveld. "Yes, your mother was Tarvia's daughter, and her death was Estevan's fault. Murdered by zealots who believed the nonsense he spread about vampiric bloodlines. Nobody in Stelgarte would dare to say such things today!" This appears to be accurate: back home you never heard any such rumours. Then again, nobody at home would talk about your mother. Except for your old Nurse, and even she was cagey. Morael shrugs eloquently. "Enough. Why are we debating history, when the present offers far more enticing topics?" (display: "softLookUp")

(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)

(set: $show_roll_details to 0)(set: $roll to $randarray's ($array_position))(set: $array_position to it + 1)(set: $total to (num: ($ability + $roll).toFixed(1)))(set: $difficulty to (num:($difficulty.toFixed(1))))(set: $recorded_difficulty to $difficulty)(set: $recorded_ability to $ability)(set: $recorded_skill_name to $skill_name)(if: $roll is 20)[(set: $success to true)Success!](elseif: $roll is 1)[(set: $success to false)Failure :(](elseif: $total >= $difficulty)[(set: $success to true)Success!](else:)[(set: $success to false)Failure :(] |roll_details>[(display: "Roll_details")]

{ (if: $show_roll_details is 1)[$recorded_skill_name: (print: ($recorded_ability).toFixed(1)) | Difficulty: (print: ($recorded_difficulty).toFixed(1)) | Roll: $roll | (if: $roll is 20)[Natural 20 = Automatic success](elseif: $roll is 1)[Natural 1 = Automatic failure](else:)[Total = (print: ($recorded_ability).toFixed(1)) + $roll = (print: ($total).toFixed(1)) | (print: ($total).toFixed(1))(if: $success is true)[ >= ](else:)[ < ](print: ($recorded_difficulty).toFixed(1))]] (else:)[ (link: "Show roll details?")[(set: $show_roll_details to 1) (replace: ?roll_details)[(display: "Roll_details")] ] ] }

{ (if: $settings's censored is 0)[shown. (link: "Hide them?")[ (set: $settings's censored to 1) (replace: ?button)[(display: "Button")] ] <script>window.StrayHeirs.settings["censored"] = 0;</script> ] (else:)[hidden. (link: "Show them?")[ (set: $settings's censored to 0) (replace: ?button)[(display: "Button")] ] <script>window.StrayHeirs.settings["censored"] = 1;</script> ]<script>window.StrayHeirs.saveSettings();</script> }

(set: $canundo to false) ###Info & Settings * **Undo**: Use the link at the bottom. Don't use your browser's back button. To change a choice in an earlier chapter, you need to redo that chapter *and* any subsequent ones. * **Skills**: Some choices can succeed or fail. You succeed if your skill + a D20 roll exceeds the difficulty of the choice, with automatic success/failure on a roll of 20/1 respectively. Skills increase with use. * **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 16, after which the story diverges. ####Your data * **Storage**: Local storage is used only to transfer data 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"/>')]

(set: $data to StrayHeirs["datastore"])(set: $settings to StrayHeirs["settings"])(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)))<script>window.StrayHeirs.applyStyle();</script>

<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: ($data's likesN/10).toFixed(1)) | Morael (print: ($data's likesM/10).toFixed(1)) | Kiaru (print: ($data's likesK/10).toFixed(1)) </p style>

A trace of compassion crosses his pallid visage. "You still do not understand? Oh, Seline... Your bloodline is a gift. Do not spurn it." [["But I'm not a vampire! So how could I make you one?" ->notAVamp2]] [["My bloodline?" ->bloodline2]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

He raises an eyebrow. "I always assumed you were aware of the gift granted by your maternal heritage - even if you did not fully believe. Did your father never... No wonder this came as a shock to you." [["Gift?" ->neverWhat]] [["But I'm not a vampire! So how could I make you one?" ->notAVamp2]]

"Indeed, you yourself possess scant vampiric traits. Certain works in the Library of Isholme describe such a condition. The talent is passed along the maternal line. That, no doubt, is why the Sorcerer was curious about your blood." [["Then perhaps the library can help. Morael, there must be a way to cure this!" ->cureIt]] [["A talent? More like a curse! Morael... how can you be happy about this?" ->happyVamp]]

"The ability to create vampires, of course. Like your grandmother, Queen Tarvia of Hysberad. Rumors say your mother too." [["But I'm not a vampire! So how could I make you one?" ->notAVamp2]] [["I wouldn't call that a gift! Morael, there must be a way to cure this!" ->cureIt]]

He meets your eyes. "It is well known that vampirism is an irreversible state. And I hope I have made it clear that I prefer it so." [["Morael... how can you be happy about this?" ->happyVamp]] [["I don't understand." ->dontUnderstand]]

{ (if: $settings's darkmode is 0)[ (link: "Switch to dark mode?")[ (set: $settings's darkmode to 1) (replace: ?modeButton)[(display: "DarkModeButton")] ] <script>window.StrayHeirs.settings["darkmode"] = 0;</script> ] (else:)[ (link: "Switch to light mode?")[ (set: $settings's darkmode to 0) (replace: ?modeButton)[(display: "DarkModeButton")] ] <script>window.StrayHeirs.settings["darkmode"] = 1;</script> ] <script>window.StrayHeirs.saveSettings();</script> }

{ (set: $fontsize to $settings's fontsize) (if: $fontsize > 0)[ <span style="font-size: 150%">(link: "↓")[ (set: $settings's fontsize to it - 1) (replace: ?fontButton)[(display: "FontSizeButtons")] ]</span> ] size (if: $fontsize < 6)[ <span style="font-size: 150%">(link: "↑")[ (set: $settings's fontsize to it + 1) (replace: ?fontButton)[(display: "FontSizeButtons")] ]</span> ](set: $settings's fontsize to $fontsize) (if: $fontsize is 0)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(0);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 1)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(1);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 2)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(2);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 3)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(3);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 4)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(4);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 5)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(5);</script>](elseif: $fontsize is 6)[<script>window.StrayHeirs.setFontSize(6);</script>] <script>window.StrayHeirs.saveSettings();</script>}