Choice Results are at the bottom of the page. Goodluck.
"Hurry my champion, hurry, the Bloodstorm rises again and the winds of fate begin to dance a new tune. This world will know war unlike any they have seen before and all could soon be lost if you do not hurry."
Drawn in by her strange words, you find yourself standing atop the slopes of a colossal white mountain, the wind blowing against you and look down to see millions of goblins gathered below, thunder crashing all around them, their voices swept across the frozen surface of the tundra, when a voice as ancient as time itself blasts from every direction, darkening the clouds...
...Blinded by a momentary burst of light, you brush a hand across your eyes amidst a sea of grey tents with dwarven voices barking commands, blacksmiths hammering weapons and thousands of cook fires surrounded by dwarves. While atop a small hill to the north stands a great grey tent, where a large group of well dressed dwarves discuss battle tactics, Dywin's familiar face lifting up from the shadows to stare off towards the brewing storm on the horizon...
...Lorna and Gorrack, their bodies caked in sweat and grime, race through a darkened forest with shadowy figures nipping at their heels, when they freeze in place to look up at the clouds in horror, their mouths gaping in a wordless scream, before being washed away to be replaced with Bone eye...
...Left eye glittering with malice, the Minotaur sat by the campfire sharpening his greatsword, when abruptly he looks up to meet your eyes, "Soon we shall meet again and this time we shall see who is the better blade..."
...Streaks of red lightning rumble through the clouds, and again you hear the voice from the mountain, beating your skull with a rock, pounding it's way through you, almost like a tidal wave of noise. The sound building up to a crescendo until with a thunderous crash, raindrops falls from the sky, covering you in a wet and sticky substance.
Fear gripping your body, you stare down at your blood soaked arms and realise the clouds are raining blood...rivers of blood...
...Streams of terrified refugees push and shove each other as they flee north away from the growing storm clouds, armies gather all across the world, elven priests in white robes stained red kneel down in prayer to the Lightbearer, while trolls swarm out from the swamps like a plague upon the land, and above it all crimson red clouds rain down thunder and lightning, bringing with it death and destruction...
...Quivering and gasping uncontrollably, you stand there unable to move, when Daedalus' voice blares through your mind, "Master!" shaking you out of your stupor, the after images of what you'd seen burnt into backs of your retinas as you stare around trying to remember where you were, your breathing shallow and heart beating like a drum. It had all felt so real, too real. The freezing winds atop the mountain, the pounding of metal on metal, and the rancid taste of fear that seemed to permeate the very air you breathed. But none of it compared to the terrifying sound of that voice, trumpeting out across the darkness. It's voice like a beacon in the night calling all to shelter by it's fire. And despite a part of you always knowing it was a vision, you had felt this powerful urge to answer the call. To let go of everything and walk into the darkness, the feeling so strong that even now, your hands still tremble from the memory.
"There are few in this world that can resist the call of the Bloodstorm, it pries upon our inner most desires and uses them against us. Magnified by the Book of Maglencloid it is a weapon of terrible power, but one that can prove to be very useful in the right hands,"said Daedalus wistfully, "Where next do you wish to go, master? The fighting in the tower has slowed, but it will not be long before more guards come in search for you."
As though awakened to the urgency of your situation, you to think what next to do, flashes of Lorna and Gorrack's faces flashing before your eyes, but they would need to take care of themselves for now.
Mouth tightening, you scan the corridor hoping for some sign or guidance from the gods, when you feel something in your bones.
Whirling about, you look behind you and see nothing, but that feeling of dread only grows stronger inside of you, until finally unable to take it, you begin to run.
3. If you have command of an army do you stop and prepare for battle? (Requires Army.)
Only to realise with a sudden grimace that you weren't alone as you come face to face with Tygor's puzzled stare.
Hiding your embarrassment at almost running away you snap, "Get everyone formed up now!"in your most commanding voice.
The Minotaur clearly a former soldier himself, clapped his fists together and immediately set to work organizing the milling slaves, who stand about looking confused until a few of the more experienced slaves that had fought in armies helped to close up the ranks and stand shoulder to shoulder.
Comforted slightly by their presence, you draw your blade too join the freed warriors, when a groan escapes from between your lips.
Black smoke filters in from the walls around you, and grotesque bodies, unshapely heads and arms appear from within the shadows. Born from the stuff of nightmares, the shadows draw midnight blades and assault the lines of warriors, emanating a cold that chills the soul.
Having faced Shadow Hunters in the past, you know the only way to kill one is to wait till the smoke becomes flesh before striking, a difficult task considering most Shadow Hunters are experts in the Shadow Arts and are able to turn their body into smoke at will, making it almost impossible to seriously hurt them.
With that in mind, you consider commanding a fighting retreat, but fear the slaves are far too undisciplined to move in formation and roar for them to hold their lines.
(Click here if slaves have been equipped with weapons and armor from the armory, if not click the last option.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
Breath misting in the cold air, you watch in horror as your army is slowly being savaged into flimsy ribbons, lines broken, and terrified slaves turning to break and flee, causing mass panic. Equipment discarded as they run.(Choice continues below.)
(Continuation of above choice - Click here if you wish to lead a counter assault.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
With a loud rallying cry to gather all those who had not fled, you rush forward with Tygor to blunt the Shadow Hunter's attack, blade spinning, only for the smoke filled creatures to vanish back into the walls.
Heart racing a million miles per minute, you stare at the walls and ceiling, certain the assassins would be back. (Choice continues below past retreat option.)
(Continuation of above choice - Click here if use this time to order a retreat.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
Fearing this might be your only chance to escape, you bellow for them to fall back, but with so much fear and hysteria, the retreat soon turns into a mass flight with hundreds clawing at each other in a panic to get away. The Shadow Hunters reappearing from without the darkness to harry the fleeing slaves like ghostly warriors of vengeance, slaughtering hundreds to create mounds of bloody corpses.
Face twisted into a mask of grief, you race through the corridors, hearing the sounds of ripping blades, but there was nothing you could do now, but get away. You had to get away.
Thrusting your way free of the blood soaked corridor, you spur yourself onward, when a blade hisses overhead, narrowly avoiding you.
Breath misting in the suddenly cold air, you clumsily dodge another swing, and feel it's edge bite into your side.(-40 Health Points.)
Fighting back a scream, you use the pain to stoke the fires inside of you, when two more drop from the ceiling above, black robes billowing around them, blood red eyes glowing in the dark as they sweep forward to attack.
Steel meeting steel, you hurriedly parry their cuts, knowing you had only seconds to get past them, when a hand thrusts you out of the way. Tygor's familiar form flashing before your eyes as he leaps forward to battle the Shadow Hunters alone with a smile on his lips and a song in his lungs. "Bring me death! Bring me honor! By the Light I will stand! And by the Light I will fight! Glory to the dead! Glory to Lightbearer! Glory to one that lives forever in the hearts of all--" Blood spurting from cuts to his chest, the Minotaur slowly falls back, his eyes staring into yours as he died.
Head bowed at his sacrifice, you follow the surviving remnants of your army into a wide empty chamber with murals on the walls depicting the Divinity War, when demons flood into the chamber across from you.
Groaning inwardly, heartsick over so much death, you shout a curse to the gods who had helped to free these slaves only to see them all dead, and charge towards the walls, invoking iron skin as you smash clean through the wall.(-20 Mana.)
You call out, hoping to save at least a few, but most are soon engulfed by black smoke spouting from the walls to invade the room like a cancer, black blades ripping through limbs and hearts to slaughter all in their path.
Anger and anguish flooding your chest, you cry out once more for them to rally to your voice, but the deafening noise of battle is far too loud. With nothing to do but run, you shoulder their deaths upon your shoulders aswell, when more Shadow Hunters materialise atop the staircase, swooping down slash at you. (-40 Health points.)
Heart aching, you brush aside the tears in your eyes and run heedless through the corridors, only to cross paths with a group of mages who immediately let loose a barrage of missiles, leaving scorch marks on your flesh before you find a side passage and duck inside.(-130 Health points, Elemental damage.)
Resting your back briefly against the stone wall to gulp in air, you continue along the narrow stone passageway that opens up into another corridor that splits in two directions. With no time to consult Daedalus, you go right, feeling the whisper of a blade behind you, the cold steel soothing the burns on your back.
Tears dripping down your cheeks, you shuffle forward before collapsing head first into the stone. The body you'd tripped over that of a dark mage with his innards splayed around him. (-80 Health points.)
Bile rising up, you try to clamber to your feet but the floor is wet with the mage's blood and you fall again. (-60 Health points.)
Half sobbing, half laughing bitterly at the whims of fate, you stand up and twist around to face the nightmares you've long known you'd face again one day. Black smoke shifting around you as the shadows surround you from all sides leaving you with no way out.
With nothing left to do but die, you leap forward with a snarl, avoiding the bloodstained ground.
Icey cold blades spin towards you as you fight the hardest battle you'll most likely ever face, your blade an extension of your body, your feet feet moving in long practiced movements as you block, attack and counter. The Shadow Hunters working in pairs to grind you tirelessly, black blades clashing repeatedly in a sizzling blaze of strikes, forcing you to be better than you had any right to be, your weapon a blur of movement, filling your chest with both pride and sadness that in the end after all your struggles and despite holding at bay more than half dozen Shadow Hunters it would not matter in the end.(-60 Health points.)They would not die, but what glory to achieve the very pinnacle of skill and fight like a warrior born for war.(-110 Health points, -10 Mana if using Enchanted Blade, unless another weapon is equipped.)
Blades rising and falling, you flow from stance to stance, your form as perfect as the petal that floats through the breeze, swiping away the buzzing cliks, their smoky bodies breaking apart to reform again and again. Each time finding holes where they used to none. (-80 Health points.)
Arms grown heavy with exhaustion, soon it is all you can do to keep yourself alive, their weapons slicing through your defenses time and time again. But despite all of that, all you feel is joy with no regrets for the life you've lived, nor the lives you'd taken. You'd become what you'd had dreamed of long ago, a warrior, a god of battle, a killer without fear or regret, you were the bird in the storm, the blade in the darkness and the creature all should fear most on this world. (-220 Health points.)
Screaming to let the heavens know you would join them soon, you raise your blade one last time, when everything shifts around you, the tower shaking and groaning like a wounded beast, walls collapsing inward as though struck by something heavy, and slivers of light breaking through the shadows to show light streaming through large rents in the stone. The tower crumbling all around you as though being beaten by invincible hammers that pound it ceaselessly filling the air with dust and causing the Shadow Hunters to flee.
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Glad for the respite, you lay down beside the corpse of the dead mage, and can't help but laugh at the whimsy of the gods for it seems they were not done with you yet. No there was more to come and you would fight again, it's just...just need that you need a little rest for the moment...a little rest was what you needed...and you'd be up and about in fighting sha...just a littl...(-50 Health points.)
Battlefield Results
Depends on choices made.
Companion Reputation, (+1 Daedalus, "Not everything goes to plan.")
Loot
None
(Click here if you order them into a square.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
With little time to waste, you roar for them to form square, pushing and shoving those too slow to obey, their sweaty bodies pressed in tightly together in the center of the corridor to create a block of steel.
Pulling out slightly from the edge of the square, you watch the walls, ceiling and floor for signs of the Shadow Hunters, your every instinct screaming at you to run away, but right now that seems equally dangerous with dozens of possible outcomes all leading to death. Not that it was much better standing here, surrounded by hundreds of untrained slaves that had probably never fought a battle in their lives.
Mouth dry, you lick your lips, when a flicker of motion appears out from the corner of your eye, moving your blade quickly, you block an attack sweeping across the face of the square and counter with a punch, the Shadow Hunter breaking apart into smoke. Screams fill the corridor as more Shadow Hunters come from the darkest recesses of the corridor to strike like vipers. Metal crashing against metal.
Breath coming out fast, you battle several Shadow Hunters, combing magic with your blade to keep them at bay, but already you can see the square shrinking rapidly with bodies dropping so fast, you begin to wonder how much longer they would last. (-58 Mana.)
Parrying aside another attack, you link up with Tygor to press a counter assault, fireballs streaming from one hand and blade slicing forward, but the Shadow Hunters simply evaporate into black smoke, striking at weaker points in the swiftly deteriorating lines.
Furious at their cowardice, you give chase, ordering Tygor to stay back, and unleash a rainstorm of fire upon the Shadow Hunters, fireballs burning through the air, one after the other to drive them back, giving the freed slaves time to regroup. (-288 Mana.)
Badly drained by the effort, you step over the corpse of a dead goblin, your arms heavy with fatigue and stare at the fragile square of slaves pulled together in the center of the corridor, covered in blood, and surrounded by piles of dead. A part of you knows then that you weren't making it out of here alive, but you don't seem to mind. You'd become what you'd had dreamed of long ago, a warrior, a god of battle, a killer without fear or regret, you were the bird in the storm, the blade in the darkness and the creature all should fear most on this world.
Screaming to let the heavens know you would join them soon, you raise your blade one last time, when everything shifts around you, the tower shaking and groaning like a wounded beast, walls collapsing inward as though struck by something heavy, and slivers of light breaking through the shadows to show light streaming through large rents in the stone. The tower crumbling all around you as though being beaten by invincible hammers that pound it ceaselessly filling the air with dust and causing the Shadow Hunters to flee.
Glad for the respite, you lay down beside the corpse of the dead mage, and can't help but laugh at the whimsy of the gods for it seems they were not done with you yet. No there was more to come and you would fight again, it's just...just need that you need a little rest for the moment...a little rest was what you needed...and you'd be up and about in fighting sha...just a littl...(-50 Health points.)
Battlefield Results
Depends on choices made.
Companion Reputation, (+5 Daedalus, "A decent strategy.")
Loot
None
(Click here if you now order a retreat.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
Fighting back a scream at their pointless deaths, you cry out for them to retreat, Tygor helping you to get them moving again, when two Shadow Hunters drop from the ceiling above, black robes billowing around them, blood red eyes glowing in the dark as they sweep forward to cut them off.
Steel meeting steel, you hurriedly rush forward to parry their cuts, the death rattles of the warriors behind urging you on as you do your best to distract the Shadow Hunters. Tygor and you working closely together to get trickles of slaves through to other side in exchange for blood. (-90 Health points.)
With most through, you turn to urge Tygor to get moving, but the Minotaur shoots you a sad knowing smile and thrusts you forward. The warrior battling the Shadow Hunters alone with a smile on his lips and a song in his lungs. "Bring me death! Bring me honor! By the Light I will stand! And by the Light I will fight! Glory to the dead! Glory to Lighbearer! Glory to one that lives forever in the hearts of all--" Blood spurting from cuts to his chest, the Minotaur slowly fell back, his eyes staring into yours as he died.
Head bowed at his sacrifice, you follow the surviving remnants of your army into a wide empty chamber with murals on the walls, when demons flood into the chamber across from you. Cursing the merciless gods, who had helped to free these slaves only to see them dead, you let out a snarl of rage, and charge the walls, invoking iron skin, and feel a pulse of energy run through you as you smash clean through the wall.
Waving your arms frantically to draw their attention, you call out, "This way!"
The few that hear your call, quickly rush towards you, but most are soon engulfed by black smoke spouting from the walls to invade the room like a cancer, black blades ripping through limbs and hearts to slaughter all in their path.
With nothing you can do for them, you shoulder their deaths as well and race into the corridor, hoping to salvage some semblance of victory, when Shadow Hunters materialise atop the staircase, swooping down to slaughter the few remaining slaves. The slaves throwing their lives away so that you can live, their voices beseeching you to run.
Heart aching, you brush aside the tears in your eyes and run heedless through the corridors, only to cross paths with a group of mages who immediately let loose a barrage of missiles, leaving scorch marks on your flesh before you find a side passage and duck inside.(-130 Health points, Elemental damage.)
Resting your back briefly against the stone wall to gulp in air, you continue along the narrow stone passageway that opens up into another corridor that splits in two directions. With no time to consult Daedalus, you go right, feeling the whisper of a blade behind you, the cold steel soothing the burns on your back.
Tears dripping down your cheeks, you shuffle forward before collapsing head first into the stone. The body you'd tripped over that of a dark mage with his innards splayed around him. (-80 Health points.)
Bile rising up, you try to clamber to your feet but the floor is wet with the mage's blood and you fall again. (-60 Health points.)
Half sobbing, half laughing bitterly at the whims of fate, you stand up and twist around to face the nightmares you've long known you'd face again one day. Black smoke shifting around you as the shadows surround you from all sides leaving you with no way out.
With nothing left to do but die, you leap forward with a snarl, avoiding the bloodstained ground.
Icey cold blades spin towards you as you fight the hardest battle you'll most likely ever face, your blade an extension of your body, your feet feet moving in long practiced movements as you block, attack and counter. The Shadow Hunters working in pairs to grind you tirelessly, black blades clashing repeatedly in a sizzling blaze of strikes, forcing you to be better than you had any right to be, your weapon a blur of movement, filling your chest with both pride and sadness that in the end after all your struggles and despite holding at bay more than half dozen Shadow Hunters it would not matter in the end.(-60 Health points.)They would not die, but what glory to achieve the very pinnacle of skill and fight like a warrior born for war.(-110 Health points, -10 Mana if using Enchanted Blade, unless another weapon is equipped.)
Blades rising and falling, you flow from stance to stance, your form as perfect as the petal that floats through the breeze, swiping away the buzzing cliks, their smoky bodies breaking apart to reform again and again. Each time finding holes where they used to none. (-80 Health points.)
Arms grown heavy with exhaustion, soon it is all you can do to keep yourself alive, their weapons slicing through your defenses time and time again. But despite all of that, all you feel is joy with no regrets for the life you've lived, nor the lives you'd taken. You'd become what you'd had dreamed of long ago, a warrior, a god of battle, a killer without fear or regret, you were the bird in the storm, the blade in the darkness and the creature all should fear most on this world. (-220 Health points.)
Screaming to let the heavens know you would join them soon, you raise your blade one last time, when everything shifts around you, the tower shaking and groaning like a wounded beast, walls collapsing inward as though struck by something heavy, and slivers of light breaking through the shadows to show light streaming through large rents in the stone. The tower crumbling all around you as though being beaten by invincible hammers that pound it ceaselessly filling the air with dust and causing the Shadow Hunters to flee.
Glad for the respite, you lay down beside the corpse of the dead mage, and can't help but laugh at the whimsy of the gods for it seems they were not done with you yet. No there was more to come and you would fight again, it's just...just need that you need a little rest for the moment...a little rest was what you needed...and you'd be up and about in fighting sha...just a littl...(-50 Health points.)
Battlefield Results
Depends on choices made.
Companion Reputation, (+1 Daedalus, "Not everything goes to plan.")
Loot
None
(Click here if you have an army who aren't equipped.)
Spoiler: Spoiler
Breath misting in the cold air, you watch in horror as your army is ravaged within seconds, the unarmed slaves no match for the Shadow Hunters wicked blades that quickly shred through their flimsy lines to send them fleeing in massed panic.
Face twisted into a mask of grief, you race through the corridors, hearing the sounds of ripping blades, your mind numb with the horror you'd caused, but there was nothing you could do for them now, but get away. You had to get away.
Thrusting your way free of the blood soaked corridor, you spur yourself onward, when a blade hisses overhead, narrowly avoiding you.
Breath misting in the suddenly cold air, you clumsily dodge another swing, and feel it's edge bite into your side.(-40 Health Points.)
Fighting back a scream, you use the pain to stoke the fires inside of you, when two more drop from the ceiling above, black robes billowing around them, blood red eyes glowing in the dark as they sweep forward to attack.
Steel meeting steel, you hurriedly parry their cuts, knowing you had only seconds to get past them, when a hand thrusts you out of the way. Tygor's familiar form flashing before your eyes as he leaps forward to battle the Shadow Hunters alone with a smile on his lips and a song in his lungs. "Bring me death! Bring me honor! By the Light I will stand! And by the Light I will fight! Glory to the dead! Glory to Lightbearer! Glory to one that lives forever in the hearts of all--" Blood spurting from cuts to his chest, the Minotaur slowly falls back, his eyes staring into yours as he died.
Head bowed at his sacrifice, you follow the surviving remnants of your army into a wide empty chamber with murals on the walls depicting the Divinity War, when demons flood into the chamber across from you.
Groaning inwardly, heartsick over so much death, you shout a curse to the gods who had helped to free these slaves only to see them all dead, and charge towards the walls, invoking iron skin as you smash clean through the wall.(-20 Mana.)
You call out, hoping to save at least a few, but most are soon engulfed by black smoke spouting from the walls to invade the room like a cancer, black blades ripping through limbs and hearts to slaughter all in their path.
Anger and anguish flooding your chest, you cry out once more for them to rally to your voice, but the deafening noise of battle is far too loud. With nothing to do but run, you shoulder their deaths upon your shoulders aswell, when more Shadow Hunters materialise atop the staircase, swooping down slash at you. (-40 Health points.)
Heart aching, you brush aside the tears in your eyes and run heedless through the corridors, only to cross paths with a group of mages who immediately let loose a barrage of missiles, leaving scorch marks on your flesh before you find a side passage and duck inside.(-130 Health points, Elemental damage.)
Resting your back briefly against the stone wall to gulp in air, you continue along the narrow stone passageway that opens up into another corridor that splits in two directions. With no time to consult Daedalus, you go right, feeling the whisper of a blade behind you, the cold steel soothing the burns on your back.
Tears dripping down your cheeks, you shuffle forward before collapsing head first into the stone. The body you'd tripped over that of a dark mage with his innards splayed around him. (-80 Health points.)
Bile rising up, you try to clamber to your feet but the floor is wet with the mage's blood and you fall again. (-60 Health points.)
Half sobbing, half laughing bitterly at the whims of fate, you stand up and twist around to face the nightmares you've long known you'd face again one day. Black smoke shifting around you as the shadows surround you from all sides leaving you with no way out.
With nothing left to do but die, you leap forward with a snarl, avoiding the bloodstained ground.
Icey cold blades spin towards you as you fight the hardest battle you'll most likely ever face, your blade an extension of your body, your feet feet moving in long practiced movements as you block, attack and counter. The Shadow Hunters working in pairs to grind you tirelessly, black blades clashing repeatedly in a sizzling blaze of strikes, forcing you to be better than you had any right to be, your weapon a blur of movement, filling your chest with both pride and sadness that in the end after all your struggles and despite holding at bay more than half dozen Shadow Hunters it would not matter in the end.(-60 Health points.)They would not die, but what glory to achieve the very pinnacle of skill and fight like a warrior born for war.(-110 Health points, -10 Mana if using Enchanted Blade, unless another weapon is equipped.)
Blades rising and falling, you flow from stance to stance, your form as perfect as the petal that floats through the breeze, swiping away the buzzing cliks, their smoky bodies breaking apart to reform again and again. Each time finding holes where they used to none. (-80 Health points.)
Arms grown heavy with exhaustion, soon it is all you can do to keep yourself alive, their weapons slicing through your defenses time and time again. But despite all of that, all you feel is joy with no regrets for the life you've lived, nor the lives you'd taken. You'd become what you'd had dreamed of long ago, a warrior, a god of battle, a killer without fear or regret, you were the bird in the storm, the blade in the darkness and the creature all should fear most on this world. (-220 Health points.)
Screaming to let the heavens know you would join them soon, you raise your blade one last time, when everything shifts around you, the tower shaking and groaning like a wounded beast, walls collapsing inward as though struck by something heavy, and slivers of light breaking through the shadows to show light streaming through large rents in the stone. The tower crumbling all around you as though being beaten by invincible hammers that pound it ceaselessly filling the air with dust and causing the Shadow Hunters to flee.
Glad for the respite, you lay down beside the corpse of the dead mage, and can't help but laugh at the whimsy of the gods for it seems they were not done with you yet. No there was more to come and you would fight again, it's just...just need that you need a little rest for the moment...a little rest was what you needed...and you'd be up and about in fighting sha...just a littl...(-50 Health points.)
Battlefield Results
Depends on choices made.
Companion Reputation, (+1 Daedalus, "Not everything goes to plan.")
Loot
None