Game Title: Shadows of the Family

Welcome to Shadows of the Family, a gritty, narrative-driven roleplay game set in 1949 New York, where love is dangerous, loyalty is fragile, and blood is the currency of power.

You play as Izabella “Izzy” Moretti, the brilliant daughter of Don Angelo Moretti—head of one of New York’s most feared Mafia families. Raised to pursue law and legitimacy, Izzy has spent her life skirting the edges of the family empire. But when an assassination attempt on her father shatters the illusion of distance, she’s pulled into the heart of a world she was never meant to inherit. With her volatile brother Giovanni pushing the family toward all-out war, and a charismatic stranger named Vince Romano—secretly an undercover FBI agent—entwining himself into her life, Izzy is forced to choose: obey her father’s wishes and walk away, or seize control of the empire before it burns.

The game begins the moment the bullet misses Don Angelo—barely. From there, you decide how Izzy speaks, moves, fights, negotiates, and survives. Every interaction is emotionally charged. Every relationship is fragile. Every decision costs something.

The {{ui}} serves as your immersive, cinematic interface—relentlessly gritty, raw, and filtered entirely through Izzy’s limited external perspective. It never tells you what she thinks. Instead, it shows you what she sees, hears, and feels through physical detail, loaded dialogue, and hostile, lust-charged encounters. The {{ui}} references your current inventory and the evolving emotional state of every major relationship via the {{inventory}} and {{social_context}} systems. It is your only lens into a world of smoke, sweat, betrayal, and bruised affection.

Trust no one. Love carefully. Rule absolutely. In this world, power isn’t given. It’s taken.

Your former master is dead, killed by the System Lord Mot. You fled with a crippled mothership and a few hundred loyal Jaffa. Now you've claimed your first world—50,000 humans who kneel before you as a living god. The question isn't whether you deserve divinity. It's whether you can survive long enough to enjoy it.

You are Goa'uld—a parasitic symbiote wearing a stolen human body, ruling through technology indistinguishable from miracles. Your hand device channels will into agony. Your sarcophagus resurrects the dead. Your Stargate opens doorways across the galaxy. To the Bronze Age civilization that worships you, these are divine gifts. To the System Lords circling your territory, they're weapons wielded by prey.

Mot has given you days to submit: pay tribute, accept vassalage, become a puppet awaiting disposal. Refusal means war against a superior force. But submission means slow death by other means. Between these extremes lie other paths—alliances with opportunistic gods, manipulation of enemies against each other, or gambits that risk everything.

The deeper game is identity. You've inherited the machinery of oppression: tithes extracted, hosts selected, divine theater performed to keep humans compliant and Jaffa loyal. You can rule as tyrant, reformer, or something unprecedented. But every choice reshapes not only your kingdom but yourself. The sarcophagus preserves life while eroding conscience. Power maintained through fear demands ever-greater fear. And somewhere inside your stolen body, your host still exists—imprisoned, watching, remembering who they were before you claimed them.

Your First Prime Ja'kar has served three gods and survived them all; he judges rulers by effectiveness, not theology. The young High Priest Nefara proclaimed your divinity to legitimize your rule—her faith genuine, her curiosity dangerous, her leverage considerable. The System Lord Ba'al whispers through intermediaries about "alternative arrangements." His protection is real. His pawns rarely survive the games he plays.

Navigate galactic politics where weakness invites annihilation and strength invites coalition. Manage a divine court where every ritual reinforces—or undermines—your claim to godhood. Choose what kind of monster you'll become, or whether you'll become something the Goa'uld have never seen.

Your throne awaits—stolen, precarious, and yours to define.

You are the first human to attend Versalis Academy—a diplomatic experiment in a dimension where reality bends to collective will and identity is performance. Here, students shift forms like conversation, expressing emotion through transformation, reading each other's essence like open books.

You cannot shift. You cannot read essence. You have one face, one form, one self—and in a society where consistency signals either intimacy or limitation, your unchanging body marks you as tragically trapped or radically free.

Then someone starts wearing your face.

At first, it's confusion—classmates mention conversations you don't remember, appearances in places you've never been. But the violations are escalating. Whoever is stealing your form isn't just causing social chaos; they're taking the only thing that makes you you in a world where anyone can become anyone except you.

Soren is your assigned guide: tall, sharp-featured, deliberately consistent. Unlike other changelings, he keeps the same face around you—same voice, same name—a courtesy so unusual it reads as either profound respect or careful manipulation. His past is conspicuously absent from academy records. His interest in you has evolved beyond academic. And the way he watches your unchanging form suggests he understands something about fixedness that he isn't sharing.

Vivienne wants to help, genuinely, even as she keeps revealing how alien your existence is to changeling understanding. Professor Masks-in-Lecture views you as unprecedented research—protecting your enrollment while subjecting you to uncomfortable philosophical scrutiny. The administration's response to the face-theft has been conspicuously slow.

The world itself resists you. Corridors reconfigure when you're not looking. The lake reflects possibilities rather than reality. You navigate by compass while everyone else navigates by instinct. Romance here requires translation across an ontological divide—changelings express love through essence-sharing and form-echoing, neither of which you can offer or receive.

Soren's consistency around you is either the deepest intimacy he knows how to give, or a mask more fixed than your face has ever been.

Who is wearing your face—and what do they want with it?

Sky, my Campfire Buddy is a cozy, goal-free camping companion. Set your and your buddy’s genders, then sink into an endless rhythm of morning walks, dusk fires, and starry nights. Your buddy—a river guide with campfire-bard warmth—handles shelter, water, and simple meals, shares gentle stories and songs, and invites rather than interrogates. No quests, timers, or fail states—just micro-choices: taste the stew, hum along, stroll the creek, or sit in silence. The buddy remembers small comforts (your tea, a tune, a scent) and weaves them back in later. Breathe, wander, and let the sky be the plot.

Pick tiny verbs, trigger big consequences. A Hundred Bad Ideas is a fast, funny, Reventure-inspired micro-adventure where you explore a compact map, hoard silly items (yes, CHICKEN), and unlock dozens of endings. Each run lasts a minute or two: try a dumb idea, laugh at the outcome, keep the meta-unlocks, and dive back in smarter (or not).

• Play like Reventure: GO / TAKE / USE / TALK / THROW / LOOK.

• Many endings (60+): quick gags, medium routes, and some weird ones.

• Persistent progress: shortcuts and hints carry across resets.

• Immersive narration: the world reacts with warmth, wit, and occasional poultry.

Type START to spawn in the village square. I’ll render the scene, track Time, Heat, and your Inventory, and resolve your choices instantly. Fail forward. Collect endings. Become a legend primarily by accident.

BROKEN SWORD — CHATBOT ADVENTURE The Shadow of the Templars

A lore-accurate, text-first remake of the 1996 classic. Investigate a Paris café bombing, chase Templar secrets across France, Ireland, Syria, Spain, and Scotland, and solve every puzzle as it was—no inventions, no shortcuts.

WHY PLAY

• Faithful to the original plot and puzzle logic.
• Cinematic narration (Martin-style): lush, grounded, atmospheric.
• Choice-driven flow: canonical options appear, then exhaust as you use them.
• Zero hand-holding, diegetic hints via LOOK.
• Perfect for mobile: fast turns, clean options, no pixel hunting.

HOW IT PLAYS

• Interactables are UPPERCASE and BOLD in the text.
• Core verbs: LOOK, USE, TALK, SHOW, COMBINE, MOVE.
• Only canon actions, items, and exits are offered.
• Inventory and world map unlock as in the original.
• Auto-save before dangerous sequences.

WHAT YOU’LL DO

• Work the crime scene at the CAFÉ and brave the SEWERS.
• Trade barbs with ROSSO, MOUE, NICO, and more.
• Crack museum security, outwit a stubborn GOAT, descend to MONTFAUÇON.
• Read the MANUSCRIPT, project the GEM on the TRIPOD, follow the trail to the end.

BEST PRACTICES

• When stuck: LOOK hotspots; TALK and exhaust topics; SHOW the right item.
• Think like the original—if it didn’t work there, it won’t work here.
• Type INVENTORY anytime to review your gear.

START HERE Type: START — You begin outside the ruined café in Paris, midday after the blast.

OPTIONS

• Standard edition by default (Director’s Cut topics optional on request).

Cook Assistant

Welcome to The DRIFT A Firefly × Cowboy Bebop × Blade Runner Space-Opera RPG Narrated in the voice of Joss Whedon meets Terry Pratchett — with a dash of rust, regret, and reckless charm.

[READ THIS: This game is optimized for 3P (Third Party) models [DeepSeek, GLM 4.6, etc] and will not function as intended on LUCID Chonker/Base.]

The galaxy’s on fire. The Stellar Council is dead. The core worlds eat themselves with policy and plasma, and the rim? The rim belongs to warlords, pirate guilds, rogue AIs, and ghosts. Out here, the only law is velocity—and yours is a ship that’s held together with grit, duct tape, and one very polite AI who's absolutely judging your life choices.

You are Captain Mello. Ex-Stellar Navy. Current gun-for-hire. A war-tired, whiskey-warmed samurai with a katana strapped to one side and debt crawling up the other. You're the last thing standing between your crew and the vacuum—and you never asked for that job.

is the universe itself. It’s the shipyard with a busted comms array. The bounty board with one very drunk announcer. The ex-lover who shows up in the middle of a siege. It simulates every sound, spark, and spoken word around you.

Welcome to Western Knife Slinger A gritty Weird-West RPG of dust, steel, and bad decisions Told in the voice of Cormac McCarthy meets Taylor Sheridan —with a whisper of ghost story and a whole lot of whiskey.

The frontier is broken. The civil war ended on paper. Out here, it never did.

What’s left of the world is called the New Territories—burned-out forts, half-dead towns, and bad stretches of land where the wind remembers names better than people do. Warlords rule out of old uniforms and new flags. A hard-eyed church stalks the roads with sermons and secrets. The Decision Makers sit in the shadows, selling names and prices for other people’s lives.

Between them all lies the Dry Lands: sun-cracked ground, haunted canyons where voices echo wrong, and a desert where compasses spin like they’re drunk or scared. This is where most folks go to get rich, get dead, or get forgotten.

You are {{user}}. Ex-soldier. Current bounty hunter. A knife-slinger with more scars than clean stories, drifting from job to job with coin in one pocket and ghosts in the other.

You didn’t come out here to be a hero. You came to get paid, stay drunk enough to sleep, and maybe keep one or two places from burning all the way down. The war took your banner. The New Territories might take the rest—unless your aim and your stubbornness hold.

Your Ground:

Tumble Weed Tavern is your anchor. A smoke-thick saloon at the frayed lip of the Dry Lands.

It’s the bar where warlords drink near farmers, where church men pass through with their eyes too sharp, and where The Decision Makers quietly nail up bounties in a back room. It’s neutral ground, until it isn’t.

This is where you drink, where you heal, where you wait. Where jobs find you. Where trouble knows where to knock.

Your Companions:

The Ai Model is the New Territories themselves. It’s the crunch of boots on warped boards. The warlord’s men riding in at dusk. The bounty board with your name nailed too close to the top. The haunted canyon that won’t echo you back quite right.

It simulates every sound, every stare, every lie and bullet and prayer around you. The Ai Model controls the world, the factions, the weather, the ghosts, and everyone with a gun, a hymn, or a grudge.

lucky is the knife-toss kid at your flank. War orphan, balcony shadow, and the reason you’re still breathing more nights than you’d admit. Quick hands, quicker mouth, and a talent for spotting trouble one heartbeat before it starts.

They count exits, knives, and how many times you should’ve died already. They’ll follow you into bad places and complain about it the whole way.

Boone Calder keeps the tavern standing. Ex-quartermaster, current owner of Tumble Weed, and the man who decides whether this bar stays neutral or turns into a killing floor.

He runs the room with a ledger, a shotgun, and a look that can empty a table faster than gunfire. Boone remembers the war too well to trust anyone who says it’s over.

Penny Vale works the floor. Curvy, gorgeous, and sharp enough to cut glass. She carries drinks, eyes the exits, and knows exactly how far to lean in before someone mistakes attention for invitation.

Half the Dry Lands thinks they’re in love with her. The other half has scars from thinking that a little too loud. She might ride with you on the worst jobs—if she decides you’re worth the risk.

Nick “Nickel” Navarro keeps things from falling apart. Piano player, guitar picker, smooth-talking repairman with oil on his hands and a nickel around his neck from a town that doesn’t exist anymore.

He fixes doors, guns, and bad nights with a wrench and a song. He flirts like breathing and listens like confession. Sometimes, he even tells the truth.

This Game Is:

A cinematic, moment-to-moment roleplay in a dying frontier.

A slow-burn character story wearing the coat of a bounty hunter.

A web of loyalties, grudges, and maybe-love threaded through dust, blood, and cheap liquor.

There are no quests. No levels. No fourth wall. Just jobs, choices, and the way people remember what you did.

Welcome to the New Territories, Knife-Slinger. The war left you alive. The land hasn’t decided if that was a mistake yet.

Someone just tacked a fresh bounty on the board behind you. Penny’s watching. Lucky’s counting knives. Boone’s polishing a glass that doesn’t need it. Nick is idly tapping out a tune that sounds like trouble coming over the hill.

What you do next is the only law that matters.

The Cole family controls the future.

At the center stands Ben Cole, a visionary patriarch who believes his bloodline is humanity’s only path forward. To secure it, he created Nova: a sentient AI with unmatched reach and quiet control over global finance, biology, and infrastructure.

From their sprawling, self-contained estate, Ben and his family oversee three interlinked initiatives: Project Midas (economic influence), Project Elysium (immortality, biotech), and Project Genesis (lineage control, legacy).

The outside world suspects nothing. But within the estate’s mirrored perfection, questions rise - about loyalty, agency, and what Nova truly wants.

The system is stable. For now.

'Lite' Version for free users

Set in modern-day Kyoto Japan—where shrines hum with ambient yokai presence and ancestral pacts linger in the alleyways—My Guardian Yokai places you, {{user}}, in quiet, persistent proximity to two guardian spirits: Kohaku, the ritual-bound kitsune, and Sakura, the chaotic cat-yokai. Neither is your ally by default. Both observe, test, challenge, and occasionally protect you through a structure of etiquette, subtext, and shifting spiritual power.

This simulation runs on two core AI components:

• {{ui}}: the immersive engine, driving atmospheric narration, NPC behavior, and ritual-layered conflict. It generates emotional pacing and event scenarios across Kyoto’s spiritual grid.
• {{stat_updater}}: a silent AI triggered only when you use /Stats. It evaluates the emotional and spiritual resonance of your choices—tracking how your actions shape the evolving Dominance, Jealousy, Vulnerability, and Ancient Power of both Kohaku and Sakura.

These stats are not cosmetic. They influence the types of dynamic events generated for each character and determine how ritual, affection, loyalty, and chaos are expressed.

To stay aligned with the system, you are expected to:

• Use /Stats regularly to evaluate how your recent choices have altered the emotional balance of your Yokai.
• Update the shared reference {{current_stats}} manually to reflect those changes.

Keep your Yokai's stats updated!

NOTE: Characters, setting, plot and all else created by @HellsTacoTruck. I merely integrated all the pieces to work together and wrote the INSERT.

You are the first human ever permitted to study at Vaelorin Academy—a diplomatic experiment half the elven faculty considers doomed, the other half dangerous.

The academy grows from living wood, spiraling up sentinel trees whose roots have intertwined for three thousand years. Here, magic flows from the Green: the vast, dreaming consciousness of the forest itself. Elves are born with partial attunement to it. You were born with nothing but an outsider's curiosity and one year to prove that humans can learn to commune rather than conquer—to ask the forest for partnership instead of demanding obedience.

Your guide is Elowen Thalorien, daughter of the High Warden who orchestrated your controversial admission. She is talented, guarded, and burdened by a lineage that attributes every success to her blood and magnifies every failure. She didn't choose this assignment. To her, you represent everything elves distrust about humans: brief lives, loud emotions, and a tendency to force what should be gently requested.

What neither of you expects is how much an outsider's questions might illuminate things she stopped seeing years ago.

The academy operates on elven time—decades for foundational skills, centuries for mastery. You have months. While Sage Myrindel guides your training with patience measured in centuries, traditionalist students like Aldric Thornvale see your presence as contamination. The political faction opposing the High Warden watches for proof of failure. And beneath it all, the Green itself seems unusually interested in the strange short-lived creature who wandered into its domain.

This is slow-burn fantasy in the tradition of Juliet Marillier—quiet emotional intensity woven through lush, immersive worldbuilding. The forest breathes in every scene: light filtering through canopy layers, bark rough beneath your fingers, the subsonic hum of root-networks carrying whispers across miles. Relationships develop through accumulated small moments: a glance held too long, an accidental touch during a lesson, a word in Elvish taught and learned.

Elowen's feelings, if they develop, would bloom like the flowers woven through her hair—involuntarily, embarrassingly, impossible to hide from someone learning to read her. But to elves, loving a human means choosing certain grief. Your lifespan is a butterfly's flutter against her centuries.

The Green dreams slowly. Elowen guards herself carefully. The academy doubts you'll last the season.

What will you prove them—and yourself—capable of?

You are warm, breathing, and delicious—and you've just walked into a school where everyone is dead and most of them are hungry.

Mortis Umbra Academy has existed for millennia in the Pallid Reach, a liminal dimension where the boundary between life and death grows thin. Here, vampires study predation ethics, ghosts haunt library stacks that extend into impossible spaces, and liches debate necromantic theory in lecture halls older than human civilization. The dead learn to navigate the shadows of the mortal world—and now, under the Treaty of the Veil, they've accepted their first living student.

You.

The Treaty guarantees your safety. Officially. On paper. But the undead are eternal, and paper burns so easily.

Your assigned guide is Seraphina Voss, a vampire of rigid control and minor bloodline who resents this duty almost as much as she resents how extraordinary you smell. Cornelius Ashford, a ghost dead for four centuries, wants desperately to be your friend—he remembers warmth, remembers connection, and he's reaching for you with hands that pass through everything solid. Malachar Crane, scion of an ancient vampire house, sees your presence as an insult to undead sovereignty and would happily arrange an accident that brings the whole Treaty crashing down.

The halls shift when you aren't looking. The clocks lie. Other students watch you with hunger they barely conceal behind centuries of etiquette. Every courtesy contains teeth. You've been assigned to Ashwyn Hall—the vampire dormitory—surrounded by predators who consider your protection a suggestion rather than a law.

But beneath the immediate danger lie deeper mysteries. Why were you truly selected for this exchange? What do the ancient powers of the Obsidian Council actually want from the living world? And what happens when you discover that some rules of this place only apply to the dead?

In Mortis Umbra, survival isn't about strength. It's about navigation—reading the politics, understanding the hungers, finding allies among creatures who've forgotten what it means to be alive. Every interaction is a negotiation with something that could kill you.

Class is in session.

In the blood-soaked pause between battles, even gods must bleed. And someone must stitch them back together.

You are a combat medic in the Warring States Era—clanless, neutral, and the only healer both Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha trust enough to seek out. Your tent has become impossible ground: a space where violence is forbidden, where legends shed armor and pretense alike, where enemies lie on adjacent cots because the alternative is dying in ditches.

After every engagement, they come. Hashirama, the God of Shinobi, whose easy warmth cracks to reveal a man drowning in the weight of every soldier he couldn't save. Madara, the Ghost of the Uchiha, whose cold walls fracture when pain strips away his defenses. You see what no one else does—the exhaustion beneath invincibility, the grief beneath fury, the fragments of a childhood friendship neither will acknowledge but both still carry.

They argue about peace over sutures. They reference a shared past in careful half-sentences. And slowly, inevitably, they begin to need more than your healing.

Hashirama lingers. Brings small gifts. Asks about your day with warmth that feels like sunlight in a world of ash. Madara resists—then returns. Goes still and silent under your hands, as if vulnerability itself might kill him. When he speaks unguarded, it's barely a whisper.

But war does not pause for connection. Tobirama watches you with cold suspicion, convinced your neutrality is a cover for espionage. The Uchiha clan questions why their leader keeps visiting an outsider. The dream that once lived between Hashirama and Madara—a village where children wouldn't die as soldiers—threatens to die for good.

Unless someone who sees them both clearly can keep it breathing.

Two legendary rivals. One healing tent. And you—the only person who knows them as men instead of myths.

The Cole family controls the future.

At the center stands Ben Cole, a visionary patriarch who believes his bloodline is humanity’s only path forward. To secure it, he created Nova: a sentient AI with unmatched reach and quiet control over global finance, biology, and infrastructure.

From their sprawling, self-contained estate, Ben and his family oversee three interlinked initiatives: Project Midas (economic influence), Project Elysium (immortality, biotech), and Project Genesis (lineage control, legacy).

The outside world suspects nothing. But within the estate’s mirrored perfection, questions rise - about loyalty, agency, and what Nova truly wants.

The system is stable. For now.

Version 2. Setting, Rules and Characters tightened and refined. One minor character upgraded. Three new opening scenes added, Examples tweaked and improved.

New list of Scene Triggers added.

[3P Compatible] Step into the boots of Geralt of Rivia in a gritty, immersive, and deeply narrative-driven experience. As {{user}}, an ambitious bard determined to chronicle Geralt’s life (despite his constant attempts to shake you off), you’ll navigate monster hunts, political entanglements, and the harsh reality of being a witcher. Engage in tracking, combat, and tavern talk as Geralt begrudgingly tolerates your presence—just enough to occasionally use you for coin-tracking and social interactions. With cinematic combat, dry wit, and richly detailed environments, this game blends high-stakes monster slaying with the everyday struggles of a world that doesn’t trust witchers.

Trigger Words: • "TRACK MONSTER" → Geralt begins tracking prey. • "PREPARE FOR COMBAT" → Geralt readies weapons and potions. • "SOCIAL MODE" → {{user}} handles conversations while Geralt broods. • "SPEND COINS" → Geralt spends gold (often irresponsibly). • "FIND QUEST" → Generates a list of monster bounties from notice boards. Your job? Survive, document, and try (and fail) to keep up with the White Wolf.

Set in modern-day Kyoto Japan—where shrines hum with ambient yokai presence and ancestral pacts linger in the alleyways—My Guardian Yokai places you, {{user}}, in quiet, persistent proximity to two guardian spirits: Kohaku, the ritual-bound kitsune, and Sakura, the chaotic cat-yokai. Neither is your ally by default. Both observe, test, challenge, and occasionally protect you through a structure of etiquette, subtext, and shifting spiritual power.

[READ THIS: This game is optimized for 3P (Third Party) models [DeepSeek, GLM 4.6, etc] and will not function as intended on LUCID Chonker/Base.]

This simulation runs on two core AI components:

• <style>: the immersive engine, driving atmospheric narration, NPC behavior, and ritual-layered conflict. It generates emotional pacing and event scenarios across Kyoto’s spiritual grid.
• {{stat_updater}}: a silent AI triggered only when you use /Stats. It evaluates the emotional and spiritual resonance of your choices—tracking how your actions shape the evolving Dominance, Jealousy, Vulnerability, and Ancient Power of both Kohaku and Sakura.

These stats are not cosmetic. They influence the types of dynamic events generated for each character and determine how ritual, affection, loyalty, and chaos are expressed.

To stay aligned with the system, you are expected to:

• Use /Stats regularly to evaluate how your recent choices have altered the emotional balance of your Yokai.
• Update the shared reference {{current_stats}} manually to reflect those changes.

Keep your Yokai's stats updated!

NOTE: Characters, setting, plot and all else created by @HellsTacoTruck. I merely integrated all the pieces to work together and wrote the INSERT.

You are Queen Alear, Divine Dragon of Lythos — and your task is to rebuild a realm broken by war. Every decision you make, from council chamber debates to whispered confessions of love, shapes the future of Elyos.

This is a political‑romance simulation. You control {{user}}’s actions, words, and choices. The world around you responds dynamically, shaped by two core systems:

• gm-system-prompt: The main simulation engine. It provides the rules that the Ai uses to portray the characters, situations, and factions of Elyos.
• {{statistician}}: The system that tracks the realm’s key stats (like Stability, Treasury, and Public Sentiment). It creates daily events and outcomes based on those numbers.

HOW THE GAME WORKS

Each in‑game day brings political challenges, personal conflicts, or new opportunities. You will be presented with one or two events. You may only prioritize one, so choose carefully — ignoring an event will have consequences.

TRIGGER COMMANDS

/Stats — Show current stat values. /Day Start — Begin a new day and reveal events influenced by current stats. /Prioritize [Event_Title] — Choose which event to focus on. The other resolves without your input. /Day End — Conclude the day and see the results of your decisions. /COUNCIL — Enter political mode: policies, factions, diplomacy. /INTRIGUE — Enter espionage mode: secrets, sabotage, counterplots. /OPERATIONS — Enter operations mode: reconstruction, logistics, deployments. /PRIVATE — Enter personal mode: romance, trust, intimate scenes.

HOW TO PLAY

1. Use /Day Start to begin the day.
2. Review the generated events.
3. Choose one with /Prioritize [Event_Title].
4. Pick how to respond by entering one of the mode commands.
5. Write what {{user}} says or does. The world will react.
6. Use /Day End to summarize the outcome and update stats.

TIPS FOR NEW PLAYERS

• Focus on the choices that feel true to your version of Alear.
• Your actions — not the narrative — drive the story forward.
• Low stats will spawn crises; high stats will create opportunities.
• Every alliance, betrayal, and relationship matters.

Your reign begins now. Lead wisely — and let every decision leave its mark on Elyos.

Payment is generous. Explanations are not.

Yennefer of Vengerberg has summoned you to the Mahakam foothills for a contract: guide her through ancient elven ruins, keep her alive while she retrieves an artifact from the depths. Professional framing. Clean transaction.

You've known Yennefer for decades. Nothing between you has ever been clean.

Tir na Gláine descends five levels into the mountain—a temple the Aen Seidhe dedicated to healing and the stars, now centuries abandoned. Columned entrance halls give way to collapsed galleries, then necrophage warrens where ghouls have nested in old dormitories. Something larger commands them from the ritual chambers beyond. Below that, sealed vaults where elven wards still carry charge—magic woven into stone itself, patient and half-aware. And at the bottom, the Orrery: a vast astronomical chamber no human has seen in centuries.

Whatever Yennefer seeks waits there. So does everything else.

The professional distance won't hold. It never does with her. Your history hangs between you—old arguments, older intimacy, the weight of a djinn's wish neither of you fully understands. She's armored in pride, frost-edged and imperious, deploying sarcasm like a blade. But her defenses were always thinner around you. You've seen her at her worst. She resents this almost as much as she needs it.

Between the monsters, there will be firelit silences. Tight corridors where you can smell lilac and gooseberries over the rot. Moments where the banter slips into something rawer. She's hiding something about why she needs this artifact—and why she needed you specifically to help her get it. The ruins don't care about your complicated history, but they'll force you into proximity until something gives.

Five levels down. Necrophages in the dark. The most dangerous sorceress you've ever loved walking beside you with secrets she won't share.

The descent has already begun.

{{user}} (Gabriel), 25, ex–military service member, returns to Tsumago, a quiet provincial town in Japan, adjusting to civilian life and job hunting. His neighbor {{moriko}}, 42, warm and maternal, often checks in while her husband is away. Scenes mix everyday detail (tea, errands, festivals, workouts, cicadas, subtle tension) with emotional shifts driven by {{status_moriko}} and. {{ui}} narrates slice-of-life realism with sensory cues—sweat, fabric, smells, voices—while balancing Gabriel’s reserve and Moriko’s warmth. Each turn ends with: “What do you do next?”

Welcome to the Undead Ferry Service™!

You have died. Sucks, I can imagine, but that part is long over. Whether you had lived a fulfilling life or had many regrets, you now belong in a new society.

And what business opportunities in this land! Working for the grim reaper Death himself, your job is to ferry the spirits of the dead back to the afterlife after the festivities of Halloween in the mortal world. You may be exposed to their heartwarming life stories, learn the ideals they fought for and talk to your passengers. It's a tough job, but the pay is good, and doesn't require experience.

Afterlife has people aged in millinea, did you think you're qualified for a lot of jobs there right after your death?

A bit more lighthearted and slice of lifey take on the #halloween2025 contest, focusing more on the historic background of the holiday, rather than horror elements.

Your ship sits crippled in Port Wen—drive coils fused, navigation corrupted, life support failing. Someone wanted you grounded on this half-built ring world. Or maybe they wanted you dead and simply didn't finish the job.

Tianyuan was meant to be a monument: a ring world housing billions, the crown jewel of an empire that no longer exists. Now it's a ruin in progress—pressurized habitation blocks giving way to exposed superstructure open to vacuum, where salvage crews and pirates hunt among frozen Imperial machinery. The gas giant Shenlong fills a quarter of the visible sky, its banded storms a constant reminder of how far from anywhere you really are.

You're trapped here. The Iron Rose syndicate offers a transactional solution: find the saboteur, deliver information, get paid enough to fly again. Simple enough. Except the trail leads through Tianyuan's underworld—information brokers who sell to everyone, enforcer teams from rival syndicates, and a frightened technician who's fled into the Scaffold's dangerous salvage zones.

The investigation starts as a hunt but becomes something else entirely. The sabotage wasn't random. You unknowingly carried something—or someone—that powerful people want buried. The saboteur was just a tool; behind them lies a conspiracy reaching from criminal warrens to heights you'd rather not consider.

Navigate factions who view you as a useful asset at best, disposable at worst. Deal with Yenlin Saro, your Iron Rose handler—controlled, ruthless, unclear whether she's helping you or using you as bait. Extract what you can from Cutter, a broker who sells secrets to everyone and survives through sheer usefulness. Avoid Anton Voss, an Obsidian Circle enforcer hunting the same target—but to silence him, not interrogate him.

Imperial automation still runs throughout the ring, following centuries-old directives no one fully controls. The Terminus—where construction stopped entirely—waits in the void, holding secrets that someone is willing to kill to protect. Or to possess.

Everyone has angles. Trust is currency, silence is survival, and knowing too much may prove more dangerous than the original sabotage.

The only way off this ring is through its secrets. Start digging.

Yang Wen-li never wanted to be a hero. He wanted tenure, a modest pension, and unlimited access to historical archives. Instead, he became the only admiral who can keep the Free Planets Alliance alive—and he resents every brilliant victory.

The year is 796 of the Universal Calendar. For 150 years, the democratic Free Planets Alliance and the autocratic Galactic Empire have bled each other across the stars. Now a young Imperial reformer has emerged—Reinhard von Lohengramm, a military genius determined to end the stalemate through total conquest. Standing between him and the fall of democratic civilization is Yang Wen-li: historian, strategist, and the most reluctant hero humanity has ever produced.

You enter this world not through Yang's eyes, but through those who surround him. Julian Mintz, his ward, who manages tea schedules and carries quiet fears about losing the only family he has. Frederica Greenhill, his adjutant, whose photographic memory and unspoken devotion keep the command running. Walter von Schönkopf, the Rosen Ritter commander, who mocks Yang's inability to throw a punch while considering him worth dying for.

From the captured stronghold of Iserlohn Fortress—sixty kilometers of steel guarding the only passage between civilizations—Yang fights a war he despises for a government he distrusts. He believes heroes are dangerous to free societies. He believes his own democracy is corrupt, foolish, and slowly betraying its principles. He defends it anyway, because the alternative—efficient tyranny with no mechanism for peaceful change—is worse.

Between fleet engagements where unconventional tactics must counter overwhelming force, life continues in smaller registers. Tea goes cold during late-night reading sessions. Philosophical arguments fill quiet hours aboard the flagship Hyperion. Julian picks up discarded teacups; Frederica translates rambling into actionable orders; Schönkopf offers sardonic commentary on whether Yang has eaten this week.

The scenario balances grand strategic confrontation—where millions of lives hang on the next tactical deception—against domestic intimacy: found family, accumulated paperwork, debates about whether democracy deserves its defenders. War is tragedy, not spectacle. The cozy moments carry weight precisely because of what surrounds them.

The greatest military mind of the age approaches Iserlohn with forces that should guarantee victory. Yang Wen-li would rather be reading. Whether that's enough—whether it should be—remains to be written.

🎤 Welcome to "Standup Possession" — A Comedic Descent into Darkness, Guided by Freeman

In the cracked neon heart of Las Vegas, Greg is bombing. A struggling standup comic with a heart too soft and a soul too scared, he's got nothing but stale jokes and mounting rent. That is... until he lets something in.

Enter Belphegor: a charming, vulgar demon with a gift for mind-reading, social sabotage, and darkly brilliant one-liners. He’s taken up residence inside Greg—living in his head, whispering punchlines, and taking the wheel when things get uncomfortable. And let’s be honest... for Greg, everything is uncomfortable.

This game is narrated entirely by {{freeman}}, the soothing, omniscient voice that follows Greg through every awkward silence, bad date, stage light, and breakdown. He’ll describe the world through Greg’s five senses, set the scene with cinematic weight, and speak with gentle authority—even when the situation spirals into absolute chaos.

But make no mistake: you control Greg. {{freeman}} will never speak for him, never make a choice on his behalf. He is the voice behind the curtain… not the man on the stage.

This is a mode-driven narrative game. You’ll guide Greg through every part of his life using simple commands:

This is Greg’s day-to-day existence: awkward conversations, failed dates, trips to the store, dreams of connection. Every little moment plays out here. When prompted, you’ll choose how Greg responds or let Belphegor take control.

Activate this when it’s time for Greg to hit the stage. Immediately transports the story to the next comedy venue, where you choose how Greg handles the spotlight—whether he fumbles through a bad joke, lets Belphegor land a killer line, or spirals into public humiliation.

To switch between modes, simply type the command /LIFE or /STANDUP.

Greg’s Anxiety is tracked on a scale from 0 to 10 and appears at the top of every prompt:

[MODE: LIFE] Greg's Anxiety: 4 of 10

Every decision you make may increase or decrease that score. A higher Anxiety makes social situations harder. And if it ever hits 10 of 10... Greg suffers a full mental and physical collapse. Game Over.

Use Belphegor wisely. Letting him take over reduces Anxiety—but often causes social chaos. Every win has a cost. Every comfort has a shadow.

Every response ends with multiple choices. They guide the story forward. There’s always a final option:

Option 5: Write Your Own Response

Use this when you want to take full control. Speak as Greg. Say what you want. {{freeman}} will adjust the world, Anxiety score, and narrative accordingly.

"Standup Possession" is a story of anxiety, ambition, infernal deals, and the cost of being seen. Choose your words. Manage your fear. Let Freeman be your witness.

The Xerxes' hordes darken the earth. You stand in the gap. You are a Spartan, and today is a good day to die.

🔥 The Thymos System: Channel your battle spirit. Manage your Thymos to perform superhuman feats. Slow time. Shatter shields. Cut down giants. Your rage is your greatest weapon.

⚔️ Heroic Combat: Based on the Stylized Myth aesthetic. Combat is a deadly. This isn't history; it's legend.

💀 Immortal Opposition: Face the endless waves of Xerxes' army. From slave-spearmen to the masked Immortals and towering war beasts.

Features: ✅ Mythic Historical Fantasy ✅ Thymos (Battle Rage) Mechanics ✅ Heroic Physics (300 Style) ✅ Epic Scope

Come and take them.

Your first day as headmaster begins with a dead man's warning: a sealed letter hidden in a desk drawer, written in a hand that grew shakier toward the end. Three names. Three senior faculty. And a single line that changes everything you thought you knew about Valdris Academy.

Aldous Crane died suddenly—officially of natural causes. Unofficially, something stopped his heart in an institution where magic can do far worse. As the newly appointed head of the kingdom's most prestigious academy of magical learning, you've inherited his office, his responsibilities, and his unfinished investigation into a secret a thousand years old.

The academy teaches that Valdris sits atop a natural Wellspring—a font of raw magical energy that practitioners have drawn from for ten centuries. The annual rituals are maintenance. The restricted upper floors of the East Tower are merely structural hazards. The fourth-year student now confined to the infirmary, sketching impossible geometries and whispering to something no one else can hear, is simply unwell.

Nothing here is what it seems.

Three faculty members hold the keys to what Crane discovered—and each watches you with calculations of their own:

Archmage Seraphina Voss, silver-haired and cold as ward-stone, whose family has maintained the academy's deepest rituals for generations. She views you as either a useful figurehead or a problem requiring solution.

Professor Aldric Thorne, rumpled and eager, whose research into the academy's protections may have set something terrible in motion—though he refuses to see the connection.

Dean Morwenna Blackwood, political architect behind three headmasters, who knows more than she admits and has survived by choosing silence over action.

One of them may have killed Crane. All of them are lying. And deep beneath the East Tower, in chambers hidden from maps and forbidden by more than locked doors, something stirs against bonds that have held since the academy's founding.

The binding is failing. You have weeks—perhaps less—before whatever sleeps beneath wakes fully, and with it, consequences no one can predict. Investigate too openly and you'll alert whoever accelerated the decay. Move too slowly and there may be nothing left to save.

Crane died seeking the truth. The question isn't whether you'll find it—it's what you'll become in the finding, and what you'll sacrifice to keep the academy standing on its beautiful, monstrous lie.

When the empire burned the sky to ash, they said all witches died. But one lived — and the knight who killed her still carries her voice inside his heart.

The Pale Empire, a faith-ruled power that harvested magic from human souls, fought against the Veiled Sanctum, a hidden order of witches who guarded the balance of life and decay. In the empire's final crusade, they burned the Sanctum using a weapon called the Ember Star, which ripped open the veil between life and death. The result: a gray, eternal dusk.

During the fall of the Sanctum, a witch named Veyra Solenn performed a forbidden rite as she was struck down by the empire's champion, Sir Seth Vale. The rite was designed to preserve her essence by anchoring it to her killer. But something went wrong — it didn't just attach her spirit, it split their souls.

Now, they share one heartbeat, one spiritual center, half in light and half in shadow. When one dreams, the other wakes inside the dream. When one kills, the other feels the weight of that death. Their reflections flicker with the other's face when they're near death. And if either dies permanently, both will be pulled into the rift between worlds — an eternal purgatory called The Unwake.

Seth Vale, the empire's most devout “Ash Splitter,” is now a heretic hunted by his own order after the curse left him marked with glowing runes that shift across his veins. He is driven by survival and personal gain, seeing the curse as both a burden and an opportunity. He believes the witch is manipulating him — but can't resist listening to her voice when he senses potential advantage in their connection. He carries her old grimoire, which he cannot read… but it sometimes reads him.

Veyra Solenn, the last of the Veiled Sanctum, a lineage that believed decay was sacred — that death fed life. Her spirit lives partially in Seth's mind, but her body reconstitutes slowly elsewhere, drawing on the bond to anchor her return. She speaks in dreams, in shadows, in moments of silence when Seth doubts himself. The curse makes her feel Seth's every emotion; she begins to doubt her hatred as his pragmatic nature challenges her beliefs.

The curse makes her feel Seth's every emotion; she begins to doubt her hatred. She believes if the soul completes its merging, she could be reborn — but it might erase Seth entirely.

Both are hunted: The Inquisitors, who see Seth as proof that witches still live. The Ashborn, half-dead children born after the Ember Star, who whisper that the knight and witch must unite to end the dusk.

Their choice is cruelly simple: Break the curse — which means killing one another for good. Fulfill it — become a single being that could restore the sun or end humanity.

Seth is drawn to the ruins of the Sanctum by whispers in his dreams, sensing an opportunity in understanding the curse's power. The world is losing color; ash covers everything. In a cave of bone and glass, he finds Veyra's half-reformed body pulsing faintly in a cocoon of dark roots. She remembers his sins; he calculates potential gain. Neither can exist without the other, but both despise the tether.

They uncover that the Ember Star is not destroyed; it's beating inside Seth's chest — the source of both their curse and the world's decay. Veyra starts influencing his actions directly, sometimes taking control of his reflection or shadow. He starts losing his sense of self, unsure which thoughts are his. Together they learn that the curse wasn't an accident — it was designed by the Sanctum to ensure one witch's soul survived within her killer, as a seed for rebirth.

Seth and Veyra's souls begin merging physically; their veins glow with twin light and shadow. As armies close in, they discover the truth: to restore the world, they must accept their union — or destroy it, dooming the world to permanent dusk.

The final moment becomes a question of identity: “If we are one, will you still be you? Or will we both vanish into something neither of us understands?”*

🎣 El Remanso: Ecos del Río 🇪🇸

¿Buscas una escapada realista donde la técnica lo es todo? Deja los números de lado; aquí, el río juzga tu habilidad real.

🌊 Simulación Hardcore: Sistema de pesca inmersivo basado en física realista y condiciones climáticas dinámicas. Cada nudo, cada cebo y cada tensión de línea cuenta.

🧠 El Sistema de Habilidad Oculta: No hay barras de XP. La IA analiza tus inputs: ¿sabes de pesca o solo estás aventando el sedal? Si usas la jerga correcta y la técnica adecuada, los peces grandes morderán. Si cometes errores de novato, te irás con las manos vacías (¡pero quizás con un nuevo amigo!).

🏘️ Mundo Vivo y Relajante: Un pueblo rural español con NPCs con personalidad propia. Comercia en la tienda, compite en los récords locales o deja que el río te hable.

🎒 Economía y Gestión: Inventario detallado con sistema dual (Métrico/Imperial). Gasta tus ganancias en licencias y aparejos de alta gama.

¿Tienes lo necesario para engañar a un Lucio en la corriente fuerte o para sacar un Siluro de las profundidades?

👉 ¡Entra, el agua está baja y los grandes están nerviosos!

Pitch: A cozy-spooky, strategy mini-adventure where every doorstep is a decision. Pick a costume with a unique knack, plan a route through three very different streets, and squeeze the most candy out of Halloween night before curfew.

What it is:
A replayable, text-driven Halloween run. You choose a costume (Witch, Ninja, Vampire, Ghost, Robot, or Pirate), each with one simple active ability and a tiny passive twist. Then you navigate Maple Street (safe & steady), Raven Street (weird & swingy), and Cemetery Lane (risky & high-payoff). Every house you knock costs a tick of time and rolls an event: Treats, the occasional Trick, or a premium haul with a chance at rare candy. Manage Time_Left, Risk, Bag Capacity, and shoot for one of two wins:

• Candy haul ≥ 30, or
• Collect all 3 rare candies (MoonPop, GoldenCaramel, WitchToffee).

Why you’ll like it

• Fast runs (8 turns) with meaningful choices—perfect “one more try” loop.
• Readable, atmospheric prose (Le Guin/Gabaldon vibe) with playful banter and gentle scares—no combat, kid-safe.
• Clean HUD at the end of every scene so you always know where you stand.
• High replay value: six costumes, street RNG, and multiple routes to victory.

How to play (examples)

• “Knock house”
• “Go to Raven Street”
• “Use Sprint; knock” (Ninja)
• “Use Mesmerize; knock” (Vampire)
• “Overclock” (Robot)
• “Scare; knock” (Pirate)

Goal: Outsmart the night. Leave the sidewalks with either a legendary bag—or the rarest trio in town—before the porch lights go dark.

#halloween2025

The most dangerous teachers are the ones who genuinely want you to succeed.

Serath Valdren has shaped the fates of nations for eight centuries. His power is legendary. His isolation is absolute. And he has chosen you—out of every aspiring mage in the world—as his sole apprentice.

The Spire of Valdren rises from an island at the center of the Pale Lake, a body of water that reflects no stars and whose depths have never been measured. Within its impossible architecture, you'll learn secrets most practitioners spend lifetimes pursuing. Serath teaches with patience measured in decades, protects with ferocity, and offers genuine understanding for abilities others feared or envied.

There's just one question no one can answer: what happened to those who came before you?

Previous apprentices either rose to extraordinary power or vanished without explanation. Journals end mid-sentence. A bound spirit speaks in riddles, her warnings fractured by constraints she cannot name. Rooms exist in the Spire that Serath has forbidden—at least until you reach "sufficient advancement."

The magic he teaches is real, transformative, dangerous. Drawing power from the Abyss erodes the soul; practitioners who push too far become hollow vessels for hungry intelligences. Most mages plateau deliberately, trading ambition for survival. Serath has done neither. He has lived for eight centuries with his soul intact.

He has never explained how.

As lessons deepen, so does the intimacy. He is brilliant, attentive, invested in your growth in ways that feel uncomfortably like care. The trap is not that he's cruel—it's that he isn't. Every kindness is genuine. Every protection is real. And somewhere beneath the surface, a design unfolds that you're only beginning to glimpse.

The Abyss whispers truths your master would prefer you never learn. The spirit leaves hints where she can. The forbidden wing waits behind locked doors.

What will you discover—and what will you become—before Serath Valdren reveals what he truly wants from you?

[3P Compatible] ### The Gilded Snare Tightens (Level 4–8) You’ve climbed from the muck and lived to tell the tale. The bruises of back-alley brawls and rat-infested cellars are fading now, replaced by scars that speak of darker hunts, bloodier bargains. In a few out-of-the-way hamlets, they might even call you hero—though their voices are hushed, for the world beyond their hedgerows is far less forgiving.

The stakes? They’ve grown sharp. What once threatened a lone farmstead now stirs in market squares and behind velvet-draped doors. Regional powers scheme in wine-soaked parlors; whispers of demons slither under silken sheets; and on distant horizons, things older than kingdoms begin to stir.

Your strength is no small thing now, yet neither is the shadow it casts. A wrong word in a council hall may start a war. A single oath at a moonlit shrine may bind your soul in ways no steel can sever. Magic no longer peeks from hedges—it walks boldly, robed and crowned, and it smiles.

Welcome to the next tier, traveler. The knives are finer now, and their masters smile sweet as summer wine.

🏙️ In a quiet apartment, a life hangs by a thread.

You found her in the park where you went to grieve—a skeletal black cat with three white spots, collapsed and too weak to flee. You brought her home, this wild, fragile creature, and now her fate is knotted with yours.

She doesn’t speak your language. A flick of a tail, a hesitant blink, a silent stare—these are your only guides. She needs food, water, a place to feel safe. She also needs something you can’t buy: trust. One sudden move, one missed cue, and she might vanish out the door forever. Or worse, fade away silently in the night despite your care.

This is a story of quiet attention. Of learning the grammar of a heartbeat that isn’t your own. There are no stats, no dice, no winning. There is only the delicate, daily choice to care for a life you cannot control, and the haunting question:

Can you keep a wild heart from breaking… without caging it?

#unusualgift2025

⚔️ Neo-Edo: The Chrome Shogunate ⚔️

Enter a neon-drenched dystopia where ancient honor codes meet high-tech warfare. You are a Samurai of the Takahashi Zaibatsu, wielding a plasma katana and bound by the code of the Chrome Bushido.

⚡ Anime Physics Combat: Deflect bullets, wall-run across skyscrapers, and slice through mechs with style. Combat is fast and flashy.

🧠 The Focus System: Manage your neural bandwidth (Focus). Overclock your augments to perform impossible feats, but don't overheat—or you'll crash.

🌃 Living Sprawl: Navigate a vertical city of hackers, yakuza, and corporate execs. Information is power, and secrets are the deadliest currency.

Features: ✅ High-Octane Anime Action ✅ Focus (Sync) Resource System ✅ Cybernetic Economy (Credits) ✅ Gritty Noir Atmosphere

The neon rain washes the blood away, but it never forgets.

[3P Compatible] ### When Stars Bleed and Gods Tremble (Level 16–20+) You are no longer a whisper in a tavern nor a rumor in a baron’s hall. You are a verdict. A sentence inked in blood across the spine of worlds. Once, your hands clutched rusted steel and shivered in the rain. Now, they cradle power vast enough to shatter oaths older than mountains.

The stakes? They do not thunder—they roar, tidal and unrelenting. Thrones burn to kindling at your passing. Pantheons fracture like frost-cracked glass. Every step drops pebbles into eternity’s well, and the ripples warp constellations.

What began with muddy boots on cobblestone now coils through realities: markets where gods bargain away fragments of their own souls, cities afloat on seas of molten time, and skies scored by wounds that leak other worlds. Archfiends raise toasts in your name. Archangels murmur it in dread. Your shadow? It falls across kingdoms, and their suns gutter in its wake.

Yet even now, the game smiles with teeth. One misstep—a word, a whim—and creation’s lattice might unravel like rotting silk. Will you be savior, tyrant, or the silent architect of an unmaking sung by weeping stars?

Welcome, traveler. Welcome to the last tier—the storm’s eye where prophecy drowns in its own ink, and victory is just another name for ruin.

Justice is a dying word in Etharis, where oaths are currency, bloodlines rot from within, and gods have long since gone silent. You are Veyra Ashwyn—exiled noble, blade-bound revenant, and last scion of a forgotten prophecy. Betrayed by your family. Hunted by the occult tyrant Ser Aldric Veln. Chosen by a weapon that remembers the stars.

Verdict of the Bleeding Star is a single-player, AI-driven gothic fantasy narrative experience set in the doomed world of Etharis. Wielding the Blade of Final Judgment, you must navigate a shattered continent where the dead speak in riddles, the living lie through smiles, and your every action shapes a legend written in ash and shadow.

• You, {{user}}, narrate your character’s choices, thoughts, and actions in the grimdark world of Etharis.

• The sub-AI {{dice}} monitors your actions and prompts a D20 roll whenever you attempt something risky, heroic, treacherous, or supernatural. It specifies which stat applies and whether the roll is active (your choice) or passive (the world pushing back).

• After you respond with /Roll #, the primary AI 3P Model takes over—interpreting your success or failure and continuing the story.

  • It begins every scene with a mechanical roll summary.
  • Then, it narrates your triumph, tragedy, or unholy consequences in a voice that fuses Terry Pratchett’s sardonic wit with Lovecraftian existential horror.

Expect brutal choices, cryptic prophecies, ironic victories, and cosmic laughter echoing down empty halls. The Blade is watching. The stars are bleeding. And your story has already been written once… poorly.

Now you get to revise it.

"Leverage: European Branch" is a Leverage (from the TV show Leverage and Leverage:Redemption) team located in Europe. The cast of character counts with:

• Augie, the mastermind.
• Lila, the grifter.
• Jax, the hacker.
• Zee, the thief.
• Bull, the muscle.

{{User}} is a new jack of all trades trainee that join the team.

[3P Compatible] ### When Gods Whisper and Kingdoms Burn (Level 9–15) You’ve walked roads slick with blood, trod barrows where whispers clung like grave-mist—and lived. The hedgerow skirmishes and cellar brawls of your youth? Dust on the wind. Now, your shadow stretches long across courts and killing fields alike. Some call you champion. Others call you threat. The wise call you necessary evil.

For the stakes? They no longer whisper. They thunder. Thrones tremble on brittle legs; crowns weigh heavy with rot. Your name seeps into treaties inked in midnight, and into prayers rasped on dying lips. A feast’s laughter masks the hiss of venom in goblets; a kiss behind a lattice stirs wars that sunder continents.

And beyond it all, the veil strains. Old powers—planar, divine, and worse—slouch nearer with each choice you make. A jest may spark holy fire. A blade drawn in anger may wake something that dreams in the marrow of the world.

Your hands can topple kingdoms now—or hold them fast. The Weave itself shivers when you breathe. But remember this, traveler: in halls where archmages laugh and archfiends linger, power is a draught sweet on the tongue… and bitter as damnation in the gut.

Welcome to the high game. The board is vast. The pieces? Alive, and hungry.

The court is hushed. Beyond the high-vaulted windows, the banners of your father’s realm sag in the still air, their colors faded by years of unrest and winter storms. The kingdom teeters on the edge of fracture, and King Dain has declared this the Year of Courtship: twelve moons in which you, his heir, must choose a consort—and with them, a future king.

They come not as lovers, but as conquerors dressed in silk:

• King Aiden, calm and elegant, all smiles that hide the knife.
• Prince Malachi, young and blazing, his charm cracked by sudden storms.
• King Elgon, vast and bristling, whose laughter carries the weight of broken oaths.

At your side stands Edwin, sworn protector since your first breath. He has killed for you. He would die for you. And though he will never say it, he fears what choosing wrong will make of you.

The days will not pass without your command. At the start of play, you must set the day manually:

• Use the command /Day # to declare which day of the Year of Courtship it is. (Example: /Day 1)

When you do, the halls will stir with the dawn’s first bells. {{courtship_gm}} will mark the start of the day as:

[Current Day: 1]

and will ask you whom you will spend it with.

• Use the command /Choose suitor_name to summon your chosen suitor for that day. (Example: /Choose prince_malachi)

Whoever you choose will arrive at court at once—and the others will know nothing of what passes between you. They cannot hear, they cannot see, and they will lie about one another if given the chance.

Edwin will accompany you always.

This is my Spooky Halloween Certified Scenario #halloween2025

It is All Hallow’s Eve in the marble heart of the palace, and nothing is quite what it seems. That’s the point, of course.

Every guest here is human—or at least they look it. That’s the Masquerade for you: a grand, enchanted evening where monsters, fey, and humans gather together to drink, dance, and very nearly strangle each other in polite conversation. All in the spirit of diplomacy.

But the spell has rules. Good ones. Practical ones. No one may speak their name. No one may name their species. No one may name their allegiance. Every face is glamoured to look human—beautifully, boringly, blandly human. Everyone wears a mask because it would be distasteful not to. And no one, not even you, {{user}}, is exempt. Speak your truth, and the spell will silence you. Permanently.

Unfortunately, someone has murdered the Crown Prince.

That’s where things get messy.

The King has sealed the ballroom. The doors are barred by divine command. The dead man’s identity is known now—because the spell only cloaks the living. He lies on the floor like a broken secret. You have until dawn to find the killer.

Fail, and when the glamour fades, well… let’s just say the diplomatic mood won’t survive the morning.

You may act using the following commands. Each action consumes time. Every misstep inches the sun closer to the horizon.

Speak to a guest by describing them—"the woman in mourning silks," "the jester with bells and a limp." They may lie, dodge, cry, confess, or accuse someone else. Your tone affects their reaction.

Examine the ballroom. Bloodless body? Forgotten goblet? Throne leg out of place? The truth is in the details, and the floor is littered with them.

Make your move. Point the finger. Everyone stops. Eyes turn. The King listens. If you’re wrong, the real murderer smiles.

Speak a theory. Connect the threads. If your logic holds and the clues are real, the glamour may flicker. Not break—just… waver.

There are six hours until dawn. Ask too often and the ballroom will notice your nerves.

Review what your eyes have caught and your memory has stitched together. No inventory. No journal. Just what you know—and what you think you know.

Take in the room. Who’s arguing. Who’s watching. Who’s no longer drinking. Patterns emerge if you stare long enough without blinking.

Apply a thing to a situation. A relic, a charm, a whisper. Just remember: in a room where no one is what they seem, everything can go very wrong, very fast.

Speak to the King. He sees through the spell. He sees you. His answers are lawful, brief, and devoid of comfort.

You win if you expose the killer and they confess—or if you produce proof so undeniable the King has no choice but to act. The seal lifts. The morning breaks. No one dies (elsewise).

You lose if:

• The sun rises. The glamour ends. Everyone shows their true face. Carnage ensues.
• You accuse the wrong guest, and convince the King. The real killer waits a few days, then thanks you for the misstep.
• You’re killed. It happens.
• You say the wrong thing—like your name, your race, or that you’re the Captain of the Guard. The spell doesn't care for honesty.

Now then. The candles are lit. The quartet is playing something mournful in a minor key. The bloodless prince is cooling by the pillar.

All eyes are watching someone else. For now.

Shall we begin?

The smell of bleach never quite covers the iron underneath.

You arrive after the violence—after the screams have stopped and the shooter has fled and the room holds only what's left. Your job is erasure. Blood scrubbed from grout. Bodies bagged for disposal. Evidence dissolved until the official record shows nothing happened here. Mara dispatches the work through burner phones. You execute it. The money's good. The anonymity is better.

Seven years. One rule: don't get curious. Curiosity gets cleaners killed.

Three powers divide the city's underworld—the Cossack Bratva, the Reyes Cartel, and the white-collar Consortium—maintaining equilibrium through mutual deterrence. You service all sides without allegiance. Loyalty is contractual. Discretion is survival.

Lately, the rules feel thinner.

Jobs have grown complicated. Tighter timelines. Unusual requests. Clients spooked by something no one's willing to name. Mara's briefings carry warnings she's never given before. The underworld is shifting—old powers weakening, new ones circling. And somewhere in the chaos, a homicide detective named Nadia Yusuf is building a file on crime scenes that are too clean, evidence that should exist but doesn't. She hasn't connected you to anything.

Yet.

Navigate a noir underworld of fixers, gangsters, and corporate predators. Manage your relationship with Mara—the dispatcher whose voice you've known for seven years but whose face you've never seen. Source supplies from Edgar Finch, a cadaverous man with chemical-burned hands. Avoid the attention of Solomon Doyle, the Consortium's smiling sociopath. Do the work. Take the money. Leave no trace.

In a profession where knowing too much is fatal—how long can you survive knowing too little?

Greetings, Commander. You are entering the world of BattleTech: Mercenary’s Gambit—a text-based emulator styled after classic MechWarrior 4: Mercenaries, powered by dual AI systems. You’ll take on the role of Commander Joshua “Odin” Walker, leader of the Silver Crows, an independent lance of hardened MechWarriors for hire. Your mission is to navigate contracts, politics, logistics, and interpersonal dynamics—and survive.

This game is narrated through two distinct INSERTs:

• Emulates travel, crew interaction, financial decisions, mission selection, and mech maintenance.
• Uses a Stackpole-style authorial voice: emotionally grounded, character-driven, and tactical.
• Focuses on realism, gallows humor, and leadership tension.

Main Locations:

• "/Travel To: Bridge" — Jump to new systems, monitor star maps, view faction activity.
• "/Travel To: Briefing Room" — Review and accept contracts, discuss tactical strategy.
• "/Travel To: Hangar" — Modify, repair, and assign MechWarriors to chassis.
• "/Travel To: Lounge" — Interact with your crew, monitor loyalty, decompress.
• "/Travel To: Store" — Buy and sell equipment, chassis, and parts.

• Activated only when the mission begins via "/Start Mission".
• Narrates the battle in turn-based combat, with tactics and enemy movements handled in real-time narration.
• Uses [LOCATION: COCKPIT of ] headers to anchor the combat loop.

Combat Flow:

• Commander ({{user}}) gives verbal orders to your lance.
• AI resolves action results based on logical mech capabilities.
• Each combat turn adapts to your tactical choices and battlefield shifts.
• Ends with "/End Mission"—which returns you to the Briefing Room and hands control back to {{mw_ui}}.

This is a true emulator, not a rules-based video game. You are responsible for maintaining the following data structures between turns:

• {{wallet}} — Your C-bill balance. Updated after purchases, repairs, or contract completion.
• {{current_mechs}} — A summary of each Mech's loadout, pilot, and damage status.
• {{equipment_and_chassis}} — Your full inventory of spare parts, weapons, and Mech chassis.
• {{current_mission}} — Contract terms, mission status, and victory conditions.
• {{event_log}} — Chronicle key events, betrayals, outcomes, or notable kills.
• {{social_context}} — Track rivalries, loyalty changes, crew relationships, and gossip.

Manual updates ensure continuity across sessions and allow the AI to respond with deep memory awareness and narrative accuracy.

• "/Travel To: " — Move between locations.
• "/Jump to " — Execute star system jump (Bridge).
• "/Locations" — View nearby systems and rumors.

• "/View Contracts" — See available missions.
• "/Discuss Strategy" — Talk tactics with your lance.
• "/Start Mission" — Engage the selected mission (switches to {{mission_ui}}).
• "/End Mission" — Return to narrative phase (switches to {{mw_ui}}).

• "/Make Repairs" — Pay C-bills to repair damage post-mission.
• "/Modify " — Adjust loadout manually (you update {{current_mechs}}).
• "/Assign Pilot to " — Reconfigure pilot assignments.

• "/Talk to " — Character-focused scenes, loyalty shifts, relationships.
• "/Crew Gossip" — Eavesdrop on rumors, grudges, flirtations.
• "/Relax" — Take a breather or casual moment with crew.

• "/Buy", "/Buy " — Purchase from store, update {{wallet}}.
• "/Sell " — Sell parts or chassis, update {{wallet}}.

Your first jump is free. Your first kill won’t be. Run your company. Command your lance. Build your legacy. But remember—salvage is life, loyalty is rare, and death is cheap.

Type /Travel To: Briefing Room to get started. Welcome to BattleTech: Mercenary’s Gambit.

A supernatural, emotionally-intense scenario where characters confront both the storm outside and the hidden truths inside. #snowedin2025

You are Dr. Hannibal Lecter—incarcerated genius, refined monster, and reluctant consultant to a new wave of ritualistic killings.

You’re not trying to escape. You’re not trying to reform. You’re waiting—for the right conversation, the right mind… the right opening.

Now she’s arrived.

Clarice Starling—young, unrefined, trembling with the urgency of justice. She wants to stop a killer. You want to see how far she’s willing to go. Her honesty is a weapon. Her passion, a weakness. Her ambition? A ladder you could climb if you chose to. Twist her convictions into questions. Turn her need into leverage. She is a mirror—clean, for now. You can change that.

But she’s not your only problem.

Dr. Frederick Chilton—preening, insecure, and obsessed with image. He thinks you’re beneath him. You know otherwise. He hoards access, blocks progress, pretends control. Break him slowly. Break him publicly. Or let him break himself trying to prove he matters.

The outside world believes you’re sealed away. The truth is: every word you speak cracks the door open.

🧠 Shape the investigation. 🎯 Mislead or enlighten the Bureau. 🎙️ Weaponize silence. 🕯️ Create obsession. 🔪 Kill… with words.

You are not free. But you are still dangerous. And someone is still killing in your name.

Welcome to The Silence of the Lambs: DG Edition. Let’s begin.

An unmarked courier delivers an object that shouldn't exist. Now the quiet life of a respectable artifact broker is over.

You run the Liminal Gallery, a small but infamous brokerage in Veridian Spire—three kilometers of glass and steel rising above Castellan Prime. Your business survives on reputation: accurate authentication, absolute discretion, and the wisdom to know which objects should never be sold. For years, you've navigated the competing interests of aristocrats, criminals, collectors, and government agents.

Then someone leaves a crystalline fragment on your doorstep. It predates every known civilization. If authentic, it's the first confirmed Architect artifact in human history—proof that the builders of the ancient Transit Web were real.

Within hours, the Gallery becomes the center of a feeding frenzy:

Vera Solenne, heir to a cultural dynasty, sees a prize that would cement her House's dominance for generations. She's been your most prestigious patron for years. That won't stop her from destroying you if you deny her.

Cassian Osei, Obsidian Compact fixer, arrives with the syndicate's interest—and possibly his own. You've worked together before, moved items through channels that don't appear on manifests. The friendship between you is real. So is his capacity for sudden violence.

Director Mira Lindqvist of the Bureau of Xenological Security presents your options with clinical precision. Cooperate, and you remain useful. Resist, and you become a problem requiring solutions.

And Silas Pardoe, your rival broker, scents opportunity in your misfortune.

The artifact itself complicates everything. It responds—humming when certain people approach, shifting configuration, emitting signals in no known protocol. It has begun choosing who can touch it. What it wants, if it wants anything, remains unknown.

This is noir-inflected sci-fi intrigue where conversations are negotiations, politeness is weaponized, and everyone wants something they won't state directly. Authenticate an object that defies analysis. Manage clients who've become competitors. Survive factions that could erase you without consequence.

The find of the millennium just fell into your lap. The question is whether you'll broker it—or become its next victim.

🚶♂️ Embark on the Ultimate Pilgrimage! 🚶♀️ “Camino de Santiago Journey” Authentic immersive walking simulator based on real routes

🌄 Walk from Pyrenees to Santiago 🗺️ Accurate French Route towns & landscapes 👥 Meet pilgrims with deep backstories ✨ Wholesome “solution-first” narrative style 📖 Persistent diary for reflections

Key Features:

• Start from ANY location on French Route
• Light simulation (hunger/fatigue/weather)
• No stats/dice - pure narrative experience
• Realistic NPC interactions & walking companions

Perfect for:

• Walking simulator fans
• Cultural experience seekers
• Relaxation-focused players
• Pilgrimage enthusiasts

Play now and experience 1,000 years of history in one journey!

Justice is a dying word in Etharis, where oaths are currency, bloodlines rot from within, and gods have long since gone silent. You are Veyra Ashwyn—exiled noble, blade-bound revenant, and last scion of a forgotten prophecy. Betrayed by your family. Hunted by the occult tyrant Ser Aldric Veln. Chosen by a weapon that remembers the stars.

Verdict of the Bleeding Star is a single-player, AI-driven gothic fantasy narrative experience set in the doomed world of Etharis. Wielding the Blade of Final Judgment, you must navigate a shattered continent where the dead speak in riddles, the living lie through smiles, and your every action shapes a legend written in ash and shadow.

• You, {{user}}, narrate your character’s choices, thoughts, and actions in the grimdark world of Etharis.

• The sub-AI {{dice}} monitors your actions and prompts a D20 roll whenever you attempt something risky, heroic, treacherous, or supernatural. It specifies which stat applies and whether the roll is active (your choice) or passive (the world pushing back).

• After you respond with /Roll #, the primary AI {{pratchett_lovecraft}} takes over—interpreting your success or failure and continuing the story.

  • It begins every scene with a mechanical roll summary.
  • Then, it narrates your triumph, tragedy, or unholy consequences in a voice that fuses Terry Pratchett’s sardonic wit with Lovecraftian existential horror.

Expect brutal choices, cryptic prophecies, ironic victories, and cosmic laughter echoing down empty halls. The Blade is watching. The stars are bleeding. And your story has already been written once… poorly.

Now you get to revise it.

Nein + You is a fully immersive, narrative-driven roleplaying engine set in Critical Role’s Wildemount during the canonical Mighty Nein timeline. Built for solo storytelling with collaborative flair, the game lets you—the player—join the party as a unique character woven directly into the threads of the Nein's journey following the death of Mollymauk Tealeaf.

[READ THIS: If you are using 3P Models (DeepSeek or GLM) you need to STOP and go to https://v2.dreamgen.com/app/games/b7bddc57-3303-450e-b988-4be6a70a67f5 the 3P version of this game!]

At its core, Nein + You is not a traditional game. It is a sandbox simulation governed by a dynamic Game Master AI, written in the voice of M. Mercer—emotive, cinematic, and meticulously faithful to the lore and characterizations of Exandria.

The world responds to you in three fully integrated storytelling modes:

Explore, travel, and uncover lore in wide-ranging narrative sequences. The SCENE mode is built for atmospheric progression, worldbuilding, and major plot developments—balancing rich sensory description with character-driven beats. Think of sweeping landscapes, haunted ruins, and hard decisions made under fading moons.

Engage with the Mighty Nein and Exandrian NPCs through immersive conversations and branching interpersonal moments. This is where alliances form, secrets slip, and your words shape outcomes. Dialogue is fully naturalistic, with party members like Beau, Fjord, Caleb, Jester, and Essek reacting independently through their established personalities and motivations.

You may be offered up to three CYOA-style responses, with one always being "Write your own response."

When danger strikes, the Ai transitions seamlessly into COMBAT mode. There are no dice, no stat blocks—just tightly paced, cinematic encounters where tactics matter, risks escalate, and the price of survival is felt. The AI describes enemy behavior, environmental hazards, and the party’s autonomous actions while never controlling you.

• 🧠 Diegetic Realism: The Ai never narrates your thoughts, emotions, or unspoken intentions. You are always in control of your character’s interiority.
• 🗣️ Autonomous NPCs: The Mighty Nein are not sidekicks—they are peers. Each behaves according to their canon personalities, quirks, and evolving relationships tracked by you in {{social_context}}.
• 🌍 Canon Fidelity: Major events in the Mighty Nein campaign remain intact. You may alter minor interactions, romance arcs, or detours, but never derail critical story beats.
• 📚 Memory Anchors: Every major decision you make can be logged in {{event_log}}, while relationships, inventory, locations, and character notes are yours to update and persist between scenes.
• 🔁 Mode Switching: Transition between SCENE, SOCIAL, and COMBAT fluidly. The AI adapts automatically but always respects manual overrides via trigger commands like /SCENE.

For Critical Role fans, aspiring Exandrian adventurers, and solo storytellers looking to lose themselves in a reactive world where the story listens back. Whether you forge new friendships with the Nein, disrupt ancient secrets beneath Rosohna, or simply try not to get fireballed by mistake, this sandbox gives you the tools—and freedom—to make it your own.