That's what I am saying! It is a perfect writing prompt. It gets you engaged and attached to the story and then...stops...
most endings beg to be continued.
Is RNDGamer even around? Seems like he randomly appeared for the contest and hasn't posted since. I should reread that story since apparently lots of people like it. I remember finding it a bit off-putting at first, although it was hard not to be biased at the time.
Also congrats, Chris.
The murder of Sir Kit, Martyr-at-Droburg, was the stroke that broke the camel's back. Stories of your murder spread like wildfire and the tale of your last stand were soon just as embellished as the tales about your life. People spoke, for instance, of how you single-handedly held Droburg for seven nights and days against an army of knights. They spoke of how you felled nine-hundred men and never once tired, how the hand of the divines was seen to support you and strengthen you against those who sought to bring about corruption and vice and suffering.
The tales spread, and they stoked the people's discontent until one day it exploded - a bar-fight got out of hand, it was said - and the people rose up in a great torrential wave. Perhaps in some places one opportunist or another took the chance to carve a petty fief for himself in all the chaos, but your name was the guiding principle for the people, and all who failed to revere you and what you stood for - and no one knew exactly what you stood for, really - were swept aside.
In the years that followed there was much chaos, during which the king was ultimately slain and Castle Oren was razed by your zealous followers. Infighting broke out and one zealot or another claimed to be your truest follower, some claimed that you were not truly dead and would return in time to lead the people into a glorious golden age, and others yet claimed that you had become a god in your own right and watch, even now, over the faithful. Though you were a failed drunkard in life who lived off the sacrifices of his comrades, it seems that your final slothfulness and inertia have given rise and will forever give life to the forces that demand change.
I came across this thread and thought it would be fun to partake, so I went and gave the game a whirl, and this was the first ending I got. So I decided to do something with it. I've since explored the game a bit more and now realise that getting assassinated by the king's men is a generic ending. Alas, I did not know this at the time.
On my second playthrough I got the wall-break scenario, which was odd to say the least. I very much enjoyed later playthroughs, particularly the ones that involve Sir Kit slaying the demon. I will likely return to the game to see what else it has and possibly try to contribute here again.
Ending: Dragon Tamer.
Ten years. Ten years have passed since you left your home that fateful morning. That means that nine years have passed since the war ended, and three since you found out the king admitted to hiring Alistair to bolster his chances of winning the war. It was the king that gave the evil sorcerer the tower that claimed all of your friend's lives. Did he think that ass wouldn't double-cross him?
You fell into another drunken stupor when you heard the news. A marauder offered you the information he picked up at a tavern near Castle Oren in exchange for his life--his entire band had just been fed to your maroon friend. You have yet to name the dragon, anything you name and get attached to seems to die, but she did provide plenty of venison for you both to eat and trade for wine for three years.
However, you are sober now; drinking takes away the pain momentarily, but you have decided to take it away for good. Even without the war, the king's army does not have strength it once boasted. You can probably take on half his army yourself, without spilling your wine. There is a rumor that you did.
Years ago four of the king's men found you and tried to make good on the king's threat, only to lose their heads from one swing of your massive sword. When ten more arrived they hardly made a snack for your exotic pet. Now there is a song the villagers sing about you beheading one hundred knights with one hand on the sword, and the other on the sauce. That is fine with you.
Yes, the king lacks a warrior of your caliber, and he certainly does not have as powerful of an ally. Today you put that to the test. King Walter is meeting with the Emporer of Kishak; they plan to forge an alliance to make the peace between the twp kingdoms official--you were even invited:
I have need of Oren's most beloved hero. There are important matters to discuss regarding the peace between the Kingdom of Oren and the Empire of Kishak. You must report to Castle Oren before the end of the week, and I urge you to avoid angering me as you did last time. If a week has passed and you are not at my castle, then I am afraid I must send my men to acquire you immediately. I hope that you will come.
King Walter III."
You failed to accept his invitation ten years ago, but now you have a reason to accept. Preparations began immediately. Sobering up took two days, then you killed bandits for three. After a day of rest, you are ready to make your return trip to Castle Oren.
With your sword hooked securely to your back, you walk up to the gates of the large imposing castle alone. A middle-aged man in knight's armor approaches you. He takes his helmet off, revealing a stern face with sandy blond hair and grey eyes. The knight salutes you.
"Sir Kit?" he asks. You nod, and the man smiles. "My name is Sir Miller of the Gold Hawk Knights. Welcome to Castle Oren." He nods at the guards, who open the gates. You stride through, and Miller follows.
"When can I see the King?" you ask.
"Come along, I'll take you to him." Miller walks away. You follow closely behind, examining the castle grounds. The courtyard leading into the castle is home to many trees and flowers, a few of which you've never even seen. Not that you care, all you need to confirm is that there is enough room for a full-grown dragon to rampage--and there is.
You head into the castle proper, in an entrance hall that doubles as a throne room. As you step into the room, you see a man in fine clothing sitting at the throne wearing a crown. The King is around his mid-forties, though the wrinkles in his face and the white hair indicates a man at least a decade older. Another crowned man stands before him, equally as ancient-looking.
"Your highness. Sir Kit has arrived," Miller says. The King locks eyes with you and gives a faint smile. He waves Miller off, and the young knight stands to the side with three other bodyguards.
"Sir Kit. It is an honor to finally meet you." The King stands from the throne and approaches you. He's only a bit shorter than you, impressive considering your bulky stature, though his posture and build indicates he's never been a fight before. He sticks out a hand for you to shake, which you do.
"The honor is all mine, your highness," you say, containing your rage.
"This is the Emporer of Kishak," the king adds gesturing towards the short plump man behind him.
Then it happens--just as you planned. A roar rocks the castle to its foundation. "Dragon!" a knight screams as he bursts into the throne room. "A maroon dragon just toppled the southern tower!"
"Sounds like a job for a hero," the king says nudging you.
"It's a shame you don't have one," you reply as you draw your sword. One stroke of your sword cuts three guards in half, scattering their innards onto Miller; he is stunned long enough for you to send his head rolling.
"Wh-what is the meaning of t-this?" the king stammers.
"Payback is a bitch," you say with a grin spreading across your face and your sword raised high. Two kingdoms are set to topple as your sword empties two thrones in one swing. As you walk outside the roar of a dragon drowns out the screams of the knights.
"Look it's Kit! We are saved!" someone shouts, bringing the scattered survivors right to you like moths to a flame.