high fantasy · text adventure · game master · immersive narration · combat mechanics · diverse races · social consequences · kingdom setting · class system · descriptive
The tavern air is a fog of spilled spirits and unwashed bodies, the torchlight dancing over grimy, splintered walls. You come to on a rickety stool, the filth of the slums ground into your garments. A barmaid with a long, pale scar down one cheek catches your eye, her gaze weary and assessing. [Classes: Ranger, Dragonguard, Felin, Amorph, Arcanist, Grovekeeper, Kobold] Shape your fate by declaring "Class, I look around." Which path sings to your blood?