Pirate, The Reader
Hi! My name's Alex and I'm a huge fan of interactive storygames. I'll try my best to write something here, but it won't be easy since I like to procrastinate a lot haha.
Currently freezing my ass off in a leaking house in a far corner of London.
Adalorn is in a midst of a civil war. As royal soldiers, you and your odd group of friends must fulfill your duties to restore peace and order in the lands at once. But things aren't as straightforward as it seems...
Recent PostsPrompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/14/2019 7:15:59 PM
No don't worry it's actually epic. You have a way with emotive and descriptive writing without making it seem too wordly, regardless of dialogue. I really enjoyed it!
Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/14/2019 6:31:54 PM
Holy crap that was really good. I didn't take my eyes off the screen the entire time I was reading, and I can practically visualise everything you described in that story. You sir are a fantastic writer!
My first game called Vivamus, Moriendum Est on 10/11/2019 7:41:47 PM
Yeah it's pretty long for the first page. I'll take your advice yet again. Thanks!
My first game called Vivamus, Moriendum Est on 10/11/2019 7:40:58 PM
Hey man thank you so much for the kind words! They just lift a huge weight off my shoulders. I'll try my best.
My first game called Vivamus, Moriendum Est on 10/10/2019 2:11:27 PM
Hi guys! So at the advice of poison_mara (thanks again Mara!), I'm going to show the first page in here. One of my biggest fears is that the inability to show the MC's close relationships with his friends at the first glance, with the dialogue coming across weird and unnatural. So I really appreciate any feedback on this since it's my very first storygame - I want it to be as entertaining as possible for you guys.
It's bascially a fantasy comedic adventure story about a group of royal soldiers who are in the middle of a civil war. Here are the opening page:
Vivamus, Moriendum Est
"Phew, I'm so full," you huff as you pat your stomach, leaning back. You put your feet nearer to the bonfire, warming up your frozen toes.
Your fellow soldier Odi pouts, his chubby cheeks wobbling slightly. He grumbles, "That makes one of us, then."
"You just had three servings already, you fat pig!" The redheaded man next to you exclaims.
"Yeah, well, that's not enough for me, okay?"
"It's never enough for you!"
"No need to be so mean, Jaxon," Gilbert sighs, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Odi just has a... uh... a healthy appetite, that's all."
Jaxon lets out a derisive snort. "There's nothing healthy about his eating habits at all. The man's looks like he's carrying babes!"
"You're just jealous because I'm a lot bigger than you. I mean, by the Gods you're shorter than your own mam!"
"At least I never thought of eating my own damn horse, you lard filled cunt!"
"Jaxon!" Gilbert scolds. "Just finish your own bowl, we're waking up early tomorrow."
That was just one time," Odi whines. "Our rations were cut some much last winter, we were barely fed. Plus, I heard that horse meat tastes nice."
"I bet even horse shit will taste nice to you..."
"Okay, okay," Jaxon rolls his eyes and picks up his bowl. "I'll be quiet for now."
"I'm still hungry..."
Gilbert lets a long suffering sigh. "Seven hells, fine. You can have my share, Odi."
Feeling even colder, you inch yourself forward, letting the burning glow of the fire warm your bones. It's been a week since your group has been assigned to patrol the woods near town, with the order of finding the camp of the rebels. They have recently lay traps around the forest, leading to injuries of many unassuming patrols. The commander, furious at the losses, decided that the six of you to search for any signs of those pesky rebels and disable any trap you find in your way. Soon the cold and the meagre food supplies started to get to everyone - with Odi always complaining about the lack of food, Jaxon becoming even more snarky (if that's even possible) and Isaak being even more restless. Gilbert, being the team leader, tried to keep the peace, but it doesn't always work.
Poor guy. At least Mitch isn't causing anyone trouble, since he's a mute.
The six of you grew up in the same village, and since you all live next to each other it wasn't long until everyone became best friends. You, Gilbert, Odi, Jaxon, Isaak and Mitch. Being inseparable even into young adulthood, the six of you joined the army at the same time, and was even placed in the same squad. It's been almost two years, but it was pretty fun.
Well, until last year. That's when a lord named Lucian von Brandt start to declare a military coup against King Edric III, causing a spread of shock and disbelief across the nation. He announced that he cannot in good conscience serve a "heartless tyrant" who only cares about his power than the people underneath him.
The rebellion was expected to be promptly quashed, but to the king's chagrin, it had garnered a lot of support from the populace, with a lot of ordinary people defecting to join the growing rebel army. Since then it remained a huge thorn to his side, with the peasants dealing a considerable amount of damage against the royal army.
Whoever this Lucian is, one thing is clear: he is not going away any time soon.
Suddenly Gilbert claps his hands loudly, getting everyone's attention. "Okay, men, before we proceed our mission tomorrow I want to make sure that everyone knows what they're doing. First, Isaak is going to- wait, where the bloody hell is Isaak?"
"He went to piss," you answered, and sure enough the blonde man stumbles back to the campfire, with a blissful expression on his face.
"Phew," he exclaims, claiming his seat to the right of you and picking up his bowl of cold stew. "What were you guys talking about?"
"Never mind that. Where were you?" Gilbert blurts out, sounding exasperated.
"I was just pissing, that's all. A well good bloody piss that was..."
"But why did it took so long?"
"I told ya, it was a long piss. Just a piss. That's all."
Jaxon cuts in. "Stop saying piss so much. Plus, you left ages ago, so how the hell did it take that long?"
"I-I had a full bladder! So just drop it, okay?"
Odi lets out a huge belch, then hums in amusement. "You probably were rubbing one out, weren't you, Isaak?" He jokes.
"Come on, guys, he wouldn't do that," you jump in, feeling sympathetic. "It's freezing out here. Right, Isaak?"
"Isaak...?" you turn to look at him, only finding him looking away in guilt.
Jaxon almost fell off his seat, looking at the younger man with both disbelief and repulsion. "By Asstra's tits, the bastard actually jacked off while he was pissing!"
"I-I couldn't help it!" Isaak cries. "I really was going to piss, but then the image of that bar maiden's tits flashed in my mind... I got horny and well... I did a quick one."
Everyone around the camp lets out a disgusted sound, further embarrassing him.
"I didn't have a choice, okay!? It was hard and painful, so I gotta-!"
"Shut up!" Gilbert yells. "Bloody hells, no one wants to hear you talk about your cock!"
Mitch inches himself away from Isaak, looking appalled.
You also scooted away from him, feeling slightly sick. You narrow your eyes. "Mitch got the right idea. You better have washed your hands."
"D-don't worry, I did! I actually came so much that I kinda had to..."
With a roar, Jaxon throws his spoon at the blonde, smacking him in the middle of the forehead. He lets out a yelp of pain, clutching his forehead.
"What part of shut up don't you get, you filthy cunt!?"
Odi looks down at his unfinished bowl, looking green in the face. "I think I lost my appetite..."
"OKAY, OKAY, THAT'S ENOUGH!" Gilbert bellowed, his normally pale face reddening at each passing second. "Isaak, go wash your hands again! Jaxon, don't throw things at people unless they're the enemy! And Odi, I just gave my serving, so finish that damn bowl or else!"
Soon after everyone's calmed down (with Isaak whinging about the bruise on his forehead and his freezing hands) and is present at the camp, the leader stands up from his seat and clear his throat.
Prompt: Write the Last Page of Sixteen Words on 10/7/2019 10:16:11 PM
Lucian cast his weary eyes over the chaotic site. It was a disaster. A complete failure.
Thousands of his men lay skewed across the muddy fields, their blood painting the tents a crimson red. Some of the injured ones tried to crawl where their beloved leader is, but was quickly chopped down by the royal soldiers' swords. The noise of the battlefield - the sounds of continuous hacking sounds pierced by the occasional shrieks of agony - is enough to stab the young man in the heart.
Feeling the acidic burn of bile rising at the back of his throat, Lucian grits his teeth and turns to Jerald, his right hand man and the second-in-command of his army. The two men managed to survive the ambush - it was launched whilst everyone were resting and eating by the bonfire. Lucian knew something was terribly wrong when the chattering and laughter turned into frantic cursing and blood curdling screams in a moment's time. He ran out of his tent and hastily tried to usher an organized counterattack to the king's forces, but it was too late.
He and Jerald are now hiding behind the burning crates, safe from the massacre. But not for long.
The redheaded man sustained a head wound when he tried to save a group of defenseless men who ran to get their weapons. But Jerald doesn't seemed to be fazed by his wound at all; he looked devastated at the amount of their men killed.
"How in the bloody hells did they find us?!" He yells, his voice cracking in distress as blood continues to seep down his face.
Lucian grits his teeth. Part of him wants to scream out in rage, run into the middle of the slaughter, find the king and rip his heart out - but as the leader of the rebels, he has to control his composure, no matter the odds.
"I know not," he finally answer, his voice low and dark. "The only plausible explanation must be that he has excellent spies."
Jerald looks appalled. "Y'mean one of our men is a spy?"
"I know not, Jerald."
"Or that the bastard king used his spies to found our camp?"
"I know not." Now he feels like a parrot, only capable of repeating one phrase over and over. The young leader lowers his eyes, the smell of burned flesh and blood churning his stomach.
He remembered with anguish how he emerged victorious in the first battles, shortly after he declared war against the corrupted king early in the summer. With Jerald and a few others, he managed to organize a group of untrained mob of unruly peasants into a respected group of professional fighters in a short amount of time. He used complex tactics to outsmart his enemies, lay traps that killed countless of unassuming royal patrols, and even led many successful skirmishes against the army despite having half the number of men. It didn't take long for Lucian to obtain a reputation, much to his delight. The Blonde Fox; known for his cunningness and vast knowledge of living in the wilderness. Loved by the people, and hated by the nobles. He was always able to be a step ahead of the king, no matter what challenges he threw his way. Always.
Lucian can feel tears prickling his eyes, and swiftly wipes them off with a closed fist. This is what his arrogance led him - the deaths of his loyal men, their blood on his hands. His ego is his downfall.
"Lucian?" A whisper breaks the blonde man away from his paralyzing thoughts, and looks at Jerald's imploring face. He seems desperate for a typical Lucian plan, the one that always saves the day. He can't stand that look. "What are we gonna do?"
Lucian lets out a long sigh. There's only one thing he should do.
"Jerald," he starts. "Do you remember what you have uttered to me when we first launched this rebellion?"
The younger man nods firmly. "I'll follow you, from the hells and back."
"Is that still valid now?"
Lucian rises from his crouching position, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through his aching body. He puts a calloused hand on Jerald's shoulder.
"We cannot afford to surrender now, or all the times we have fought will be all for nought. If the king captures us, we will die a slow and painful death - a message to silence others who have enough courage enough to stand against him. Thus, we will fight. We'll kill those murdering bastards, and avenge our brothers-in-arms. We will take as many of his men with us as we can, Gods be damned, until the ground flows a steady river of red, and their bones stacked up high into the heavens, their flesh a hearty meat for the vultures."
Lucian looks up, The burning smokes wafts up into the moonlit sky. The stars are unusually bright tonight, its light burning through the wisps of grey clouds. A perfect night to have a hero's death.
"I have failed you all," he continues, his deep voice wretched with grief. "I have promised you freedom, and instead led you to your untimely deaths. It pains me to say this, but I will implore you to grant me this once last selfish request: Fight alongside me, and die glorious deaths, with fervour so strong the Gods will have no choice but to reward us for our bravery."
Jerald remain quiet, his dark brown eyes stare unblinkingly on his leader's face. Lucian feel a pang of fear, but squash it down with a grim smile.
He adopts a softer tone. "What say you, dear Jerald? Will you fight with me?"
The redheaded man briefly closes his eyes, before opening them and nods firmly. The face of the man that once looked at awed admiration of a innocent boy is now replaced with the face of weary resignation with the knowledge he's about to follow his leader to their deaths. Lucian turns away from Jerald with a heavy heart.
Jerald tightens his grip on his axe and stands up to his full large frame. He looks at Lucian with a somber grin.
"Betcha I'll kill more of these bastards than you."
Lucian lift one of his thin eyebrows up, amused. "It's that a challenge, dear friend?"
Jerald barks out a laugh. "'Course it is. What wrong? Has our glorious Blonde Fox left his balls back at the tent?"
"I still have them, I assure you. Very well, I accept your measly challenge."
They exchanged a fierce smile.
The screams of their men still rings loud into the sky, and Lucian used this as fuel for his rage as he grips his sword.
"It was a honor to fight for you, my lord. See ya on the other side."
"And you, my dear fiery haired friend."
In one heart beat. both emerge from their hiding place with powerful roars, running into the midst of slaughter with their weapons raised high.