Iknow5/Text_Adventures huggingface dataset:
You march forward accompanied by a massive force of Men and Orcs. The Royal Army, Red Blades Tribe, River-born Tribe, Dusk Hunters Tribe and various Orc, Human, Dark Elf and Dwarven Mercenaries heading forward to wage war. You have the main force of footmen accompanied by your best warriors and the Knights from the Kingdom of Mankind. There are also large groups of archers and a calvary of horse units, moving forward towards the enemy. After a few hours of marching, you see them. Hundreds of massive tents dot the field. You hear their lookouts blow their horns, waking the Orcs in time to prepare for the upcoming assault. Their will be no surprise assault today, you know. You raise your longsword. The blade is freshly sharpened.


"Charge!" You roar, in unison with Sir Ignate and several other leaders of the army.


You rush forward, moving forward with immense speed. The force of military wrath that you and leading storms forward as the Orcs appear, weapons drawn and enshrined in their armor. You charge into them, an unstoppable force smashing into an unmovable object.


"DIE!" You roar, swinging your blade.


You swing your sword, hacking off a limb that goes flying. You knee another figure and smash your hilt repeatedly into his face until it's nothing but pulp. You swing again, cutting open an Orc's stomach after it breaks through the chain mail armor. You swing again, opening a massive gash in the side of an Orc's face. You parry a strike and block another, before charging into battle with ferocity. You elbow an Orc in the face, smashing open bone and gristle with the force of your strike. You block an axe swing and remove the arm of the Orc holding the axe. You swing again, hacking off a leg and dropping an orc to one knee, allowing you to behead the Orc. You hack and swing, roaring with anger.


"Chieftain! Orders?" One of your Orcs screams.


Time to take command.

You regroup and charge the enemy

You quickly regroup, blowing a bone horn to bring the Red Blades together.


"Come on! There is blood to be spilt! Ha!"


You break into a charge, moving quickly forward. You swing your sword, sending a head through the air. After about a minute, you've pushed your way past the Orc lines and got yourself surrounded. You take an arrow to the shoulder and fall backwards, before you take a spear through the throat.
You march forward accompanied by a massive force of Men and Orcs. The Royal Army, Red Blades Tribe, River-born Tribe, Dusk Hunters Tribe and various Orc, Human, Dark Elf and Dwarven Mercenaries heading forward to wage war. You have the main force of footmen accompanied by your best warriors and the Knights from the Kingdom of Mankind. There are also large groups of archers and a calvary of horse units, moving forward towards the enemy. After a few hours of marching, you see them. Hundreds of massive tents dot the field. You hear their lookouts blow their horns, waking the Orcs in time to prepare for the upcoming assault. Their will be no surprise assault today, you know. You raise your longsword. The blade is freshly sharpened.


"Charge!" You roar, in unison with Sir Ignate and several other leaders of the army.


You rush forward, moving forward with immense speed. The force of military wrath that you and leading storms forward as the Orcs appear, weapons drawn and enshrined in their armor. You charge into them, an unstoppable force smashing into an unmovable object.


"DIE!" You roar, swinging your blade.


You swing your sword, hacking off a limb that goes flying. You knee another figure and smash your hilt repeatedly into his face until it's nothing but pulp. You swing again, cutting open an Orc's stomach after it breaks through the chain mail armor. You swing again, opening a massive gash in the side of an Orc's face. You parry a strike and block another, before charging into battle with ferocity. You elbow an Orc in the face, smashing open bone and gristle with the force of your strike. You block an axe swing and remove the arm of the Orc holding the axe. You swing again, hacking off a leg and dropping an orc to one knee, allowing you to behead the Orc. You hack and swing, roaring with anger.


"Chieftain! Orders?" One of your Orcs screams.


Time to take command.

You pull back and allow the Kingdom of Man to do the brunt of the fighting

You blow a bone horn, and the Red Blades retreat. You pull back from the fighting, allowing the soldiers to move forward. You do some light support work, defending flanks and archers, which allows your forces to conquer over the Orcs. The Orc Tribes are slowly beaten back through a battle of attrition. Eventually, the Soldiers of the Kingdom of Man have begun to cease their aggression in their attacking. The Orcs are clearly beaten and bruised, unable to fight on for much longer.

You charge!

"Charge! Strike them down!" You scream, charging forward.


You rush forward. You swing your blade, and your forces crash into the Orcs. The Orcs begin to break away, dropping weapons and swords to retreat from the battle. Some stay behind, but you make very short work of them. You roar as you swing your blade, slicing through flesh and shattering armor to wipe out all those who are left. 


"Victory!" You roar.
A week later, a regiment of soldiers for the Kingdom of Man arrive, led by a large man in plate armor with a red cloak with a golden dragon on it. He enters the Main Hall, bowing as he approaches your throne.


"Greetings, Chieftain Mazkil. I am Sir Ignate. I was chosen by our Royal King Alexander to thank you for your refusal to attack the Kingdom's towns, cities and men. I am happy to offer you a proposal, that if you give troops and support to the Kingdom's counter-attack to wipe out the aggressors. If you accept this proposal you shall be taken on as a vassal for the Kingdom and receive our full financial and military support to allow for your expansion into aggressor territory. Will you accept our proposal, Chieftain Mazkil?"

You don't join the Kingdom of Mankind in repelling the Orcs

You decide against joining the Kingdom of Mankind. You don't wish to take up sides in this war. This proves to be one of your worse ideas, as both Orcs and Men have no issues raiding your village for supplies whenever they wish. Battles spill into your territory and any hunters or gatherers you send out are struck down by both sides. Your tribe begins to fall apart. Your men begin to flee, either signing up on either side of the war to take up arms against their enemies, becoming mercenaries or simply fleeing to escape the territory. This leads to the death of the Red Blades. You've failed as Chieftain.
The next and final issue is the spread of a new religion. The worship of Ka, a monotheistic Creator God, has grown popular among young Orcs for reasons you're not sure. This is leading people away from the worship of the many Gods, especially Gorgok.

You don't ban the religion of Ka

You decide against banning the religion of Ka. The religion spreads slightly throughout the village, but fails to gain a significant foot hole among the Red Blades.
The next issue is the issue of excess warriors. The Red Blades are producing excess warriors, all young, bloodthirsty warriors who wish to fight. You can send them to fight with the Raiders, the Orcs who fight against the Kingdom of Man's expansion into Orc territory and their taking advantage of Orc Tribes and Villages. You could also send them to work as Mercenaries for the Kingdom of Man in the Man-Elf War.

You send them to work as Mercenaries

You send your excess warriors to fight as Mercenaries, fighting against the Elvish Kingdom for the Kingdom of Man, sending their profits home to the Red Blades.
The Red Blades have survived another winter. Once again, Thraka Flameborn and Elder Dokt stand to give you an endless stream of tasks to sort out. The main three are the Farok Mines, the problem of excess warriors and the growing worship of Ka.


"Chieftain! We have unearthed a massive iron and coal mine down the mountain, the Farok Mines. It was used by men to supply the war machine, but was abandoned because it was left undefended and abandoned by man. Still, you have excess Orc Workers who could head down to the mines to work, with only a small amount of the profits taken being given to the Kingdom of Man in payment for using the mine. It would mean working for the Kingdom of Man, but could prove very profitable for the village." Thraka says.


"We still have mines up the mountain, Orc mines. We don't need to come crawling to the Kingdom of Man in order for a pittance of iron and coal. They'll be able to make more profit in the Orc Mines." Elder Dokt says.

You don't send Workers to work in the Farok Mines

You decide to send your workers to the Orc Mines instead of the Farok Mines. They make more profit than they would've in the Farok Mines, strengthening and improving the village and Red Blades as a whole.
You walk up a mountain, trudging through the harsh snow. You're cold despite being wrapped in furs and leathers, and you really need to piss, but you know that if you tried, your dick would freeze off. You lost three farmers and a dozen goats to a Frost Troll wandering down from the mountain in the cold, icy winter that's just started. You're taking a five war parties of twenty warriors each to wipe out any trolls up in the mountains. You lead the main war party of the best warriors who wish to target the cave system most likely to hold sheltering trolls. Wind and snow begins to block your view. You know you need to find shelter soon.

You begin the long trek back to the village

You turn around, and begin trekking back to the village. Within a half hour, the cold is so brutal that you lose all feeling. The snow's bad you have no idea where you're going. After two hours of walking, you feel a sudden sensation of warmth. You begin unstrapping your armor to cool down. You're hot and tired. A quick nap in the snow would be nice...
"Assemble the warriors." You say. "Get me a group of sixty warriors who are hungry for blood."


You have the group assembled, and quickly begin making your way up the mountain. About halfway up, you begin to regret it.


"It's cold, my feet hurt and I'm fucking tired." You grunt as you trudge up the mountain.


"Damn right, Mazkil." Urug Eaglebow says.


You look further up the mountain, and hear the howls and rasps of the dead as well as the roars and screeches of the dragon. There's few dragons up here, so you presume this Red Dragon fighting is Mont Pre'Igni Rubrum, a near unpronounceable name, or the Volcano of Gargarum. The Undead are no doubt deserters from the Necromancer's Army. You reach the top of mountain, at the edge of a crater. At the center, a large group of two dozen undead soldiers armed with spears and swords are attempting to kill the dragon. It seems the undead are very unmatched.

You attack the Dragon

"I want the Dragon's head in Gorgok's treasure room!" You roar.


You charge forward, towards the dragon, ducking under a jet of flames. You stab forward, and with Gorgok's aim, your sword slides in between a missing scale and stabs the dragon through the side. You pull out your blade and slice, making a small cut in the leathery wing. You wing your blade, knocking into the neck of the Dragon. With the combined army of Orcs and Undead behind you begin to slay the dragon. It's fire incinerates three zombies, and several weapons begin thrusting at the dragon's softer belly and face, cutting gouges and wounds. The dragon only lasts a few minutes of fighting, only killing three Orcs before its killed instantly, killing the beast. It's head thumps against the cold stone floor.


"Ha! Have the dragon's skull taken and dragged down back to the village. I want it put above my throne."


You turn to talk to the undead, but they've already began trudging further up the mountain. You wonder why they're leaving, but decide not to bother them. The dead have enough issues to be bothered by the living.
"Chieftain! Chieftain!"


"Yes?" You ask.


You're met with a young Orc, a cousin of yours, who reminds you of Gruzub. You feel a twang of guilt, before deciding that in honor of Gruzub, you're going to kill this Orc if he brings up something like the placement of the new well or whether to build the new stable of stone or wood.


"There's a disaster up at the Kes Nests."


"Disaster? That's a strong word."


"It's accurate. A group of Zombies have engaged a Red Dragon perched on the mountain."


"If Death and Destruction met on a Road." You quote, remembering one of the few books you read as a child.


"What?" The Orc grunts.


"The Poem, where the Grim Reaper meets the Mother of Dragons on a road. They debate their roles, with the Grim Reaper saying how his job is necessary ot prevent overpopulation, while the Mother of Dragons says that she prevents empires from wiping out all... What the fuck am I doing? I'm not explaining a children's poem to you."


"Sorry Chieftain. The Warriors are suggesting you lead a party up there."


"To do what?"


The Orc shrugs.

You do nothing

"I'm not going to deal with that, Orc. I want you to go, and I genuinely mean this, fuck your mother and stop bothering me."


The young orc runs off. Perhaps you were too mean to him. He reminds you of Gruzub, who you loved to degrade, insult and bully. You miss him so much. You sigh. Time to find a drink. Then, many, many more drinks.
You sit on the Throne, looking over hunting cycles. Gemin's Point is good hunting ground, but it could lead to fighting between the Dead Bone Tribe, who also uses the area. You could send hunters there, not send hunters there, or the third and by far the greatest option, fall on your own sword and end the painful trial worse than any other Orc has endured of doing crop rotations or hunting areas.


You hear yells outside, and the doors to the town hall is kicked open. A group of six Orcs appear, dragging a brutally beaten man with them.


"Chieftain! We have found a man in our territory, the goat fucker." One of the Orcs yells, tossing the man in front of you. "He's been hunting our deer and boar for weeks, it seems."


"Explain yourself, human, before I release my warriors to tear you apart."


"Sir, please." He says, begging. "I'm from the village of Eckleglade. It was destroyed by an Elvish Assault Party, and we were forced to flee. Many of us headed to the hills and mountains, to hide from Elvish attacks, and formed small camps up there. I was only trying to hunt to feed my family."


"Sir, orders?" One of the Orcs asks you. "Shall I take his head?"

You have the Trespasser exiled

"Hmmm... Where are the camps, trespasser?"


"Sir, if I tell you..."


"Don't preside to know who I am or what I'll do, trespasser."


"They're at the Morinspeck Mines, sir."


"Good. Go back there, and tell them to leave. I'll send warriors up there in a week. Anyone left there will be wiped out to the last man."


"Yes, sir."


"Go. If you're found in my land again, I'll make you beg I had killed you here."


"Yes, sir." He nods, standing and quickly running out of the room."


You watch him as he runs off. Well, that takes care of that issue.
You sit on the Throne, looking over hunting cycles. Gemin's Point is good hunting ground, but it could lead to fighting between the Dead Bone Tribe, who also uses the area. You could send hunters there, not send hunters there, or the third and by far the greatest option, fall on your own sword and end the painful trial worse than any other Orc has endured of doing crop rotations or hunting areas.


You hear yells outside, and the doors to the town hall is kicked open. A group of six Orcs appear, dragging a brutally beaten man with them.


"Chieftain! We have found a man in our territory, the goat fucker." One of the Orcs yells, tossing the man in front of you. "He's been hunting our deer and boar for weeks, it seems."


"Explain yourself, human, before I release my warriors to tear you apart."


"Sir, please." He says, begging. "I'm from the village of Eckleglade. It was destroyed by an Elvish Assault Party, and we were forced to flee. Many of us headed to the hills and mountains, to hide from Elvish attacks, and formed small camps up there. I was only trying to hunt to feed my family."


"Sir, orders?" One of the Orcs asks you. "Shall I take his head?"

You leave the Trespasser go

"Hmmm... Where are the camps, trespasser?"


"Sir, if I tell you..."


"Don't preside to know who I am or what I'll do, trespasser."


"They're at the Morinspeck Mines, sir."


"Good. Head back to your camps. I'm not going to harm a man for trying to feed his family."


"Thank you! Thank you, sir!" The Man says, cupping his hands in praise.


"I'm confused why you're still here." You say, and the man jumps to his feet and quickly runs off, out of the Great Hall.
You sit on the Throne, looking over hunting cycles. Gemin's Point is good hunting ground, but it could lead to fighting between the Dead Bone Tribe, who also uses the area. You could send hunters there, not send hunters there, or the third and by far the greatest option, fall on your own sword and end the painful trial worse than any other Orc has endured of doing crop rotations or hunting areas.


You hear yells outside, and the doors to the town hall is kicked open. A group of six Orcs appear, dragging a brutally beaten man with them.


"Chieftain! We have found a man in our territory, the goat fucker." One of the Orcs yells, tossing the man in front of you. "He's been hunting our deer and boar for weeks, it seems."


"Explain yourself, human, before I release my warriors to tear you apart."


"Sir, please." He says, begging. "I'm from the village of Eckleglade. It was destroyed by an Elvish Assault Party, and we were forced to flee. Many of us headed to the hills and mountains, to hide from Elvish attacks, and formed small camps up there. I was only trying to hunt to feed my family."


"Sir, orders?" One of the Orcs asks you. "Shall I take his head?"

You welcome the Trespasser to join the village

"Hmmm... Where are the camps, trespasser?"


"Sir, if I tell you..."


"Don't preside to know who I am or what I'll do, trespasser."


"They're at the Morinspeck Mines, sir."


"Good. Well, I'll give you a choice, trespasser. You leave my lands with the threat of death if you return, or you join the Red Blade Tribe as a Free Worker with no blood or legal connections to the tribe."


"Sir?"


"We have hunting grounds and farmlands that go unused. If you wish to work, I'll give you the chance to do so."


"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!"


Over the next few days, the refugees from Morinspeck Mine arrive, and are given jobs so they can get food, water and beds in the village.

Two Weeks Later...

Due to your choice in accepting the refugees from Morinspeck Mine, there are more refugees arriving. Most are humans from destroyed or attacked villages looking for a safe place to work, though a few are Wood or Dark Elves who do not wish to partake in the war. They're all requesting to take up work as Hunters, Farmers or Craftsmen in your village.

You allow them to join

You welcome these refugees into your village, both for ethical and economic reasons. This allows your village to expand as your population experiences a boom.
Due to your choice in accepting the refugees from Morinspeck Mine, there are more refugees arriving. Most are humans from destroyed or attacked villages looking for a safe place to work, though a few are Wood or Dark Elves who do not wish to partake in the war. They're all requesting to take up work as Hunters, Farmers or Craftsmen in your village.

You don't allow them to join

You decide enough is enough. You're not a safe haven for every coward and weakling who cowers from war.
You sit on your throne, resting your head on your blade as Thraka Flameborn and Elder Dokt tell you about the village's state of affairs.


"There's been a change in the management of the College of Alexandria. They've begun to accept Orc students." Thraka says to you. 


"Well, this is very good for racial relations, but what do the Red Blades care?" 


"There are many more profitable jobs that can be found if you work in the College. We could greatly improve their lives."


"These jobs would take these people away from profiting the Red Blades, cost massive amounts of money, and mots likely they wouldn't receive these jobs for being Orcs. These students wouldn't be able to get the jobs, and they wouldn't be taught how to farm or fight, so when they came back here without jobs, they couldn't work here."


"The Elder exaggerates greatly. There's plenty of work ot be found, especially with Orcs. Learning at the College of Alexandria would mean that our children would have better lives."


You briefly consider the thought. Perhaps the Young Orcs would have better lives in and after the College, but it would definitely take away from the tribe's size, and perhaps the Orcs would be left untrained in manual labor or the ability to find actual work after discrimination stops them from finding educated work.

You don't send young Orcs to the College

You decide against sending away the Orcs. They wouldn't be able to learn important skills such as farming, fighting, hunting and cooking, only to be left with skills in money-handling or Magics that don't help them in their life.
You sit on your throne in the Main Hall, in the midst of a feast to celebrate the death of Chieftain Dadic, your Great-Great-Great-Grandfather, who was brutally stabbed to death by Elven Assassins. Despite being unarmed, surprised and quite old, he put up a grand fight. Twenty Elves entered this very great hall to assassinate him, three went out. Thraka and Dokt stand on either side of you. For once, they both agree on what you should do, although Thraka's much more brutally honest.


"Find a girl to fuck." He says.


"What Thraka Flameborn means is..."


"To get your dick inside a girl." Thraka laughs, to Dokt's embarrassment and frustration. 


"Chieftain, every Chieftain needs one to share their soul with. You need a mate." Dokt says.


You survey the room. You spot a young Orc girl dancing in the crowd. She's small and cute, and you briefly make eye contact. She gives you a flirty wink. A pretty girl would do good to help you survive the cold winter nights.


Making use of the drink and food is a tall warrior. Her head is cut short and she has a large, impressive blade on her side. A warrior is someone you could relate to and respect as a mate.


One the opposite side (both of the room and orientation), a youngish Orc stands quietly, a leatherbound book in his hands. He looks intelligent, but also has soft features and a nice smile, which he quickly flashes at you.


Finally, there's a massive beat of an Orc holding a blade that could cleave horses in half with one blow leans against a wall. You recognize him as Ironsoul, a fantastic warrior notorious for spending large amounts of time in brothels in the company of Orcs who choose to have an adventurous life working in the brothel rather than on the battlefield.

You talk to the feasting Orc

You walk over to the feasting Orc and sit next to her.


"Hello. Are you enjoying the food?"


The Orc raises an eyebrow, decides you're not joking, and nods.


"Yes, Chieftain."


"I don't recognize you. What's your name?"


"Dag. Dag Unbroken."


"Unbroken? How do you get a title like that?"


"I've broken every bone inside my body besides my right shin."


"Fuck me." You say, obviously impressed.


"I'm not opposed to the idea." Dag says.


At that moment, you realize picking up warriors is a lot easier than you thought.

You continue spending time with Dag

You spend the next few hours talking with your newfound mate. Dag is strong, though, aggressive and violent, which reminds you of a more "you" you. You'll make sure that your relationship continues and develops into what could be a prosperous marriage.