Iknow5/Text_Adventures huggingface dataset:
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 reading Orc

"I like him." You say, pointing to the reading Orc.


"What, Sarunt? He's a male, he can't bear your children." Dokt says, annoyed.


"Many Chieftains were adopted. Dadic, for fuck's sake."


Dokt rolls his eyes, but nods. You stand from the throne, and walk down to Sarunt.


You walk over to the reading Orc, and smile.


"Hello."


"Hello." He replies, looking up from his book.


"I am Chieftain Mazkil."


He chuckles.


"I might spend far too much time in a book, but I still know enough to know who the Chieftain is."


"Ah. Good." You reply, awkwardly.


You realize while you're very skilled and courageous in the art of warfare, you suck at flirting. Thankfully, he's better and very interested.


"So, do you want to get a drink, Mazkil?"


You nod eagerly, and head over to the drink stand.
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 Ironsoul

"I like him." You say, pointing to Ironsoul.


"What, Ironsoul? He's a male, he can't bear your children." Dokt says, annoyed.


"Many Chieftains were adopted. Dadic, for fuck's sake."


Dokt rolls his eyes, but nods. You stand from the throne, and walk down to Ironsoul.


"Hello. Ironsoul, is it?" You ask.


"Dag. Dag Ironsoul. It's Dag to you, 'less I gotta call you Chieftain, Mazkil."


"How are you, Dag?" You ask.


Somehow, despite your ability to show courage in any fight, you abilities to get chicks aren't particularly good. Thankfully, Dag's just as crude.


"Do you want something, Mazkil?"


"I was just asking about you as a person. We don't get to talk much."


Dag raises an eyebrow.


"Are you trying to fuck me?" He asks indignantly. "Because I won't refuse a piece of ass, but I'm not going to whine about my day like a Man's wife."


You smile.


"That simplifies things."
The next day, you walk along the street, Thraka and Doct off managing your work for a while. You survey your village. Children are brawling in the streets, the elders are drinking and the adults are working. Everything's good. You think to yourself. You notice a young Orc woman who's name you haven't learnt, and feel a pang in your heart as you notice how beautiful she is. You feel a pang in another place, but that's neither here nor there. You realize that one of, and perhaps the best, duty of the Chieftain is to have a heir to the throne and get married. You'll try find someone soon enough. Not today, though. You continue strolling around the village, before you notice at the edge of town, a trail of caravans approaching. You raise an eyebrow, as there are no scheduled caravans set to arrive over the next few days. You walk up, and to your surprise, notice the caravaneers are not the Orcs you're used to seeing. They're all men. Usually there's a few men mixed in with the Orcs that run the caravans. You walk over to the caravan.


"Hey! Who are you, then?" You ask loudly.


The Humans on board are wearing red cloth with gold Eagle symbols embroidered on them.


"Greetings! I am Giorgio Lates. I am a merchant from the Kingdom of Mankind."


"I recognize the sigil. What do you want?"


"I am a merchant, kind sir. Orcs are famous for their steelwork, and I had the pleasure of working with some Orc Mercenaries. They're blades, axes and maces are unrivaled, except for Elvish blades, which are as easy to find as an honest merchant. Which, you so happen to have found." Giorgio says, winking.


"You wish to buy blades?"


"Buy? Not exactly. I doubt you have much use for my gold. I wish to swap, to barter, to trade."


"For what?"


"We have much to trade. Food, Drink, Steel, Iron, Wool, Jewelry, Gold, Silver and much, much more. We wish to open up a trade route between here and the Empire." Giorgio grins.


You frown. Traders are prone to take advantage of humble villages like yours. The Village is also dedicated to crops, farm work and general self-sufficiency. To increase your smithing and weapons production, you'd need to sacrifice your self-sufficiency. Still, it could increase your village's profit and the standard of living.

You don't agree to trade with the Kingdom of Man

"No. I will not sell the honor and heart of this village to some merchants only to be ripped off later."


The Merchant's face falls and he immediately turns ratty.


"Fine. Let this village become an abandoned ghost town in the hills that your children will be dying to get out off. Let's go!"


The Merchant Caravans begins to turn around and leave. You know that you've saved your little town from being steam rolled by the massive trade machine of the Kingdom of Man.
You look around for something to help you out of this predicament, and you find a small bottle of a blue liquid.

You don't drink it

You decide not to drink it. You know that you need to get moving soon, to escape before nightfall, but hold on to the fact their still might be something useful nearby.

You drag yourself outside

You drag yourself outside. The village is packed with dead Orcs, Men and War Dogs, interspersed with the golden armored Elves who your allies managed to strike down. You continue dragging yourself forward, passing the dead. Vultures land around you and begin pecking at the corpses. One lands in front of you and pecking at your face.

You grab the Vulture

You grab the Vulture, tearing the vulture's head off its neck and tossing it aside. You begin dragging yourself forward once more.

Four Hours Later...

You move your hands forward and find something to drag yourself another few inches forward. Thankfully, the leaves grant you some shade from the hot sun, but the pain's beginning to become unbearable. Then, as if the Gods have all agreed to fuck up your life, you hear wolves. 


"Fuck you!" You scream, as three wolves begin prowling towards you.

You fling your knife at one

You throw your knife, impaling one of the wolves' in the head, killing it instantly. It falls backwards, and you feel pride briefly, before another one of the wolves leaps at you, landing on your chest. It bites down on your chest, tearing through flesh at you let out a scream.
You move your hands forward and find something to drag yourself another few inches forward. Thankfully, the leaves grant you some shade from the hot sun, but the pain's beginning to become unbearable. Then, as if the Gods have all agreed to fuck up your life, you hear wolves. 


"Fuck you!" You scream, as three wolves begin prowling towards you.

You try defend yourself with your blade

You swing your blade, slashing open one of their eyes. You stab again, killing the wolf, but get your knife lodged in it's head. Another one leaps forward, and bites your arm.
You decide not to drink it. You know that you need to get moving soon, to escape before nightfall, but hold on to the fact their still might be something useful nearby.

You continue searching

After another few minutes of searching, you find a small silver flask with a red cross on the front strapped to a medic's belt, which you recognize as a healing potion, and eagerly drink down. As you feel the warm liquid go down your throat, it warms your soul and ends, or at least lessens your pain. Your energy renewed and strength revitalized, you begin dragging yourself yourself out of the building and off in search of help.
You scream as you awaken and are hit with a fresh wave of pain. You look around. You're surrounded by slaughtered Orcs and Men, many killed in their sleep, but it's clear some awoke in time to resist. You attempt to stand, before collapsing on the floor. The pain is all-consuming, and you consider allowing death to overtake you and end your struggle to survive.

You embrace the sweet release of death

You stop fighting, and allow the sweet painlessness of death to release you from the constant pain.
You awaken a few hours later, lying on a bed. You're heavily bandaged, lying next to several dozen sleeping Orcs and Men. Captain Darruk had the Medic take care of you, it seems, and you've been dumped to heal next to the sleeping soldiers. You assume you'll be taken back to the nearest fort to be taken care of until you've healed up enough to head out to war again. 


You lie in the silence, trying to fall back to sleep. Then, you hear a window shatter. You look around, and struggle to get up. Thankfully, the Medic's left your knife on you. You look around, before a fist smashes into the side of your head, knocking you backwards. You try to scream, before you feel the cold steel of a blade on your throat. You look up, to see a short Elven sword being held by a tall elf.


"Say your prayers, Orc." He says.


You grab at his throat, but he quickly deflects your hand. As he goes to slice open your throat, you see a hand stop him. You notice another Elf stop him.


"Wait. Don't."


"Why shouldn't I?"


"He helped us earlier. He saved Gwendilyn's child."


The Elf with the sword shrugs.


"Fine."


You look around. The room's filled with a group of Elves, all armed for war. It appears you're the first to awaken. With the serious burns covering your body, you'd struggle to do anything physical. You could still warn your team-mates, though.

You stay silent

You stay silent, and the Elves quickly make their way through the room, slaughtering all those across the room, slicing open their throats and stabbing them through the hearts. Eventually, everyone in the room lies dead across the floor. The Elf who had held his blade to your throat takes a final look at you, before leaving you alone in an empty room. After a few minutes, pain begins to sear from your burns as your medicine wears off, and you lie their, struggling to stay conscious through the pain, which you eventually fail at doing.
You walk outside, and as you go to the next house, you hear a scream.


You turn to see a large house has erupted into flames that are quickly growing. Captain Darruk sprints over, followed by you.


"What's going on?" Captain Darruk asks.


"We were putting the civilians in this house when they resisted, so we torched the place." One of the Orcs explains.


You see civilians; men, women and children rushing out of the building as it rapidly erupts into flames. You hear crying coming from the top floor, a high pitched noise that could only come from an infant.


"Captain! There's a baby in there!"


"There's nothing we could do. The flames would kill anyone who tries to enter."


You watch the building, flames licking the sky. You see a small gap in the flames that someone could easily use to get inside.

You do nothing

You stand, watching the building burn with a few uneasy soldiers and sobbing civilians being kept from entering the building for fear of their brutal death.`Thankfully, the baby's cries only last another few minutes as smoke spreads throughout the house. Once it ceases, Captain Darruk nods.


"Alright, everyone. Back to work. Continue searching."


You search the next few houses, but the populace is either dead or cowering, allowing for you to find a few small weapons stockpiles. Eventually, you finish up and find an empty house to sleep in. Captain Darruk assigns a few Orcs on guard, but thankfully you're not one of them.

You rest

You awaken a few hours later, lying in a bed. You've woken up again.


You lie in the silence, trying to fall back to sleep. Then, you hear a window shatter. You look around, and struggle to get up. You draw your knife slowly. You look around, before a fist smashes into the side of your head, knocking you backwards. You try to scream, before you feel the cold steel of a blade on your throat. You look up, to see a short Elven sword being held by a tall elf.


"Say your prayers, Orc." He says.

You lunge at him

You lunge forward, grabbing his wrist and flinging the sword away. You grab his head and bring your knife up, repeatedly stabbing him through the eye. Another Elf runs forward and slashes your chest open, and you smash his head across the room, and fling him repeatedly against a wall unless his body's shattered. You slash another Elf's throat open, before the Elves surround you. You roar as every single Elf begins slashing at you. Blood begins down to streak down your chest as thousands of cuts and slashes open all over your body. You only last a few seconds of brutal pain before you collapse on the floor.
You awaken a few hours later, lying in a bed. You've woken up again.


You lie in the silence, trying to fall back to sleep. Then, you hear a window shatter. You look around, and struggle to get up. You draw your knife slowly. You look around, before a fist smashes into the side of your head, knocking you backwards. You try to scream, before you feel the cold steel of a blade on your throat. You look up, to see a short Elven sword being held by a tall elf.


"Say your prayers, Orc." He says.

You beg for mercy

"Please. I won't say a word, just..." You begin.


The Elf sneers in disgust, and swings his blade. He slashes a deep wound in your stomach, and you scream. The Elf slashes at you repeatedly, opening endless red lines of blood and pain across your chest. After over a dozen cuts, you collapse into unconsciousness.
"Kannish! Release her!"


Kannish stops smiling, and snarls.


"What, have you fallen in love, Mazkil? Fuck off, or this shit gets bloody."

You continue trying to stop Kannish

"I'll tear off your head and give it to the crows, Kannish! Let her go!"


Kannish lets go of the girl, who quickly turns and scurries off. Kannish draws his blade.


"Are you willing to die for that bitch? Die just so she can spread her legs to some Elven cunt who killed our friends?"


"Drop the weapon, Kannish!"


Kannish clumsily lunges at you, rage in his eyes.

You behead him

You swing your blade, killing Kannish. You drag his head outside to Captain Darruk, who growls at the sight.


"Who did this? Elves?"


"I did. Sir." You add.


Captain Darruk's eyes narrow.


"Why?"


"He refused to follow orders. I found him trying to have his way with one of the elves."


Captain Darruk's eyes widen in surprise.


"Mazkill, I don't have time to deal with this. Karn and I are returning to the Fort. We need to be gone by nightfall. We don't have time to deal with you killing our men."


"He was doing shitty things, sir."


"This is war, shitty things happen."


"Our jobs are to minimize the amount of shitty things happening."


Darruk opens his mouth to say something, before you hear a scream. You turn to see a large house has erupted into flames that are quickly growing. Captain Darruk sprints over, followed by you.


"What's going on?" Captain Darruk asks.


"We were putting the civilians in this house when they resisted, so we torched the place." One of the Orcs explains.


You see civilians; men, women and children rushing out of the building as it rapidly erupts into flames. You hear crying coming from the top floor, a high pitched noise that could only come from an infant.


"Captain! There's a baby in there!"


"There's nothing we could do. The flames would kill anyone who tries to enter."


You watch the building, flames licking the sky. You see a small gap in the flames that someone could easily use to get inside.
"I'll tear off your head and give it to the crows, Kannish! Let her go!"


Kannish lets go of the girl, who quickly turns and scurries off. Kannish draws his blade.


"Are you willing to die for that bitch? Die just so she can spread her legs to some Elven cunt who killed our friends?"


"Drop the weapon, Kannish!"


Kannish clumsily lunges at you, rage in his eyes.

You dodge him

You dodge him, and he smashes past, managing to slash your arm open. He rises up again, ready to strike.
You walk into the next house. A young Elf, as young as you, stands behind the door holding it closed. You smash the door open and he rolls to his knee, his bow readied with an arrow notch.


"Drop the bow." You say, raising your shield.


He fires, and you easily knock the arrow aside. One quick swipe, and his head is lying on the floor. You search the bottom floors, finding nothing, but upstairs you find another barricaded room. Using your impressive strength, you smash open the door with brute force. Four Elf Warriors are in the room, covered in bandages and with visible wounds. You quickly slash your sword killing one, kicking another in the head and stomping on his throat repeatedly, crushing it. You stab another one through the chest to kill him, and stab the final one through the eye. As his body hits the ground, you notice a backroom. You open it, to find a small stack of Elvish Jewelry. Golden bracelets studded with golden gems, eloquently designed necklaces and a golden ring with a large ruby. Your orders are to leave all valuable items to be taken at a later time by Captain Darruk to be used to buy supplies and food, but... shiny.

You leave the valuables

You leave the valuables. You're a soldier with a mission, not a thief.
You walk along the woods with a small group. Twenty Orcs, thirty Men and a dozen War Hounds. You're led by Captain Darruk, who stands proudly at the lead.


"Recent Elves have attacked our forces, and taken heavy losses. We believe they've retreated to the village of Abhaile to resupply and have their wounded taken care of. I want this threat dealt with."


You gently pat one of the war-hounds on the head, amused by the cheerful dog. Suddenly, the war-hounds burst forward, barking.


"Here we are. Orcs! No looting, killing or anything of the sort! Once the village's secure, we stay here for the night."


"Yes, sir." You all respond.


You march forward past the trees, and see the village. It's a large village, with many homes, all wooden and natural looking, reminding you of several rich men's summer homes you passed on the march to Elf Territory. Many of the civilians notice, and begin to yell and hurry inside.


"HOLD IT! This village is under control of King Alexander and the Royal Army!" Captain Darruk barks. "Search house to house! Confiscate any weapons. Kill any soldiers or those trying to resist."


You nod, and quickly hurry towards the houses. Inside the first you enter is a small girl holding desperately to a stuffed toy, with her mother standing defensively in front of her, a dagger clutched in her hands.


"Stay out!" She cries.


You look at her briefly, before ignoring her. You quickly search the upper floor and confiscate a bow, some arrows and three hunting knives, before returning downstairs. The house is empty except for the mother and daughter.


"Give me the blade." You ask.


"Get out of my house!" She shrieks, and you wince.

You force her to give you the knife

You move forward, knocking her back with a punch. She cries out and you grab her wrist, twisting it. She drops the knife, which you catch.


"Here's some advice. Don't fuck with an Orc. You're lucky you're not dead." You growl.
You walk along the woods with a small group. Twenty Orcs, thirty Men and a dozen War Hounds. You're led by Captain Darruk, who stands proudly at the lead.


"Recent Elves have attacked our forces, and taken heavy losses. We believe they've retreated to the village of Abhaile to resupply and have their wounded taken care of. I want this threat dealt with."


You gently pat one of the war-hounds on the head, amused by the cheerful dog. Suddenly, the war-hounds burst forward, barking.


"Here we are. Orcs! No looting, killing or anything of the sort! Once the village's secure, we stay here for the night."


"Yes, sir." You all respond.


You march forward past the trees, and see the village. It's a large village, with many homes, all wooden and natural looking, reminding you of several rich men's summer homes you passed on the march to Elf Territory. Many of the civilians notice, and begin to yell and hurry inside.


"HOLD IT! This village is under control of King Alexander and the Royal Army!" Captain Darruk barks. "Search house to house! Confiscate any weapons. Kill any soldiers or those trying to resist."


You nod, and quickly hurry towards the houses. Inside the first you enter is a small girl holding desperately to a stuffed toy, with her mother standing defensively in front of her, a dagger clutched in her hands.


"Stay out!" She cries.


You look at her briefly, before ignoring her. You quickly search the upper floor and confiscate a bow, some arrows and three hunting knives, before returning downstairs. The house is empty except for the mother and daughter.


"Give me the blade." You ask.


"Get out of my house!" She shrieks, and you wince.

You try reason with her

"Listen: You have no power here. I could very easily kill you, and my allies would storm in here and kill you and your daughter if I was harmed. Give me the knife and you life."


She looks terrified, but she hands over the knife. You grab it, and nod.


"Good choice."