Iknow5/Text_Adventures huggingface dataset:
As you both ride forward, the knight tenses up, preparing to run you through.  Pulling the axe from its loop, you whip it forward.  The axe whirls landing in his shoulder, almost making him fall off his horse.  Despite this injury he manages to hang onto his horse, pulling the axe from his shoulder.


Yet there isn't the familiar sight of blood oozing from the wound, just a ripped robe and silver gleaming in the sunlight. 


"You'll have to do better than that, brute," the knight says while twirling the axe.


Glaring at him, you accept his challenge, you spur your horse onward.


The knight does the same, holding both sword and axe in hand.  As he rides forward, you get an idea.

You use bow

Not wanting to get close to this knight, you decide to this would have to do.  Sheathing your sword, you sling your bow from your back, notching an arrow just as fast.


"Huh?" the knight says in surprise.


You release the arrow, and with a twang it soars through the air.  The knight barely has time to react before the arrow lands in between his helmet and silver coat.  It protrudes from his neck as dark blood spills out, a gurgling sound coming from his throat.


The knight struggles to stay up on the horse, falling onto the ground below.  You manage to recover your axe before you hear a loud cry coming out from the forest behind you.
You walk to the cave's entrance, lighting your lantern. Within the inky black darkness are piles of bones. Most of them are those of animals, though you spot a human skull in there. This might have been a bad idea. Still, you carry onward, swinging your sword around from your back and gripping the hilt tightly.


As you journey further, you find no sign of bears or wolves or the like. So, you carry onward, intent on slaying whatever beast may live here. It is deeper into the cave that you begin to hear and feel a low rumbling. It shakes you to your core, and your knuckles whiten as you grip your sword tighter. Is it what you think it is?


Your question is answered when your lantern's light glints off of maroon scales.


A dragon, slumbering on a pile of branches and bones. By the size of it, it appears to be young, no older than perhaps an infant, though that does not mean that it will be friendly. Nearby are the skeletal remains of another dragon, this beast far larger. Was it orphaned? You've no idea.


You are about to make your leave so you don't face the wrath of the beast when its eyes snap open.

You this beast might be wild. You swing wildly, hoping to wound it.

You swing wildly, a yell escaping your lips. The blade meets the dragon's rough scales, and it lets out a roar of mixed agony and rage. Blood drips from its wounds, and it rears back, head turning to look at the deep gash in its side... Then, it charges at you.


It barrels into you, sending you onto your ass. Another roar escapes its mouth, swiping a claw at you. You block the blow with your sword, cutting deeper into the dragon's hand, and it rears back yet again to determine its next move. It must not be used to fighting.


It's making for another charge.

You stand your ground and stick your sword out, hoping the beast runs into it.

As the dragon charges forward, you stick your blade out, hoping that it will be unable to stop and impale itself on your sword. Instead, it ducks below the blade, and though you try to adjust quickly and bring the sword down onto the animal, you're too late. It charges into you, this time biting into your stomach. You let out a yell of pain, repeatedly bringing your sword down onto its back, but by the time it is finally dead the damage is done.


Your entrails are spilling out of your torso. Bloody coughs escape your lips. There's no coming back from this, unless a healer suddenly happened to come by. With your luck, another dragon would sooner come by instead. Eventually, the pain stops, and you close your eyes with a shuddering, blood-tinged sigh...


THE END
You swing wildly, a yell escaping your lips. The blade meets the dragon's rough scales, and it lets out a roar of mixed agony and rage. Blood drips from its wounds, and it rears back, head turning to look at the deep gash in its side... Then, it charges at you.


It barrels into you, sending you onto your ass. Another roar escapes its mouth, swiping a claw at you. You block the blow with your sword, cutting deeper into the dragon's hand, and it rears back yet again to determine its next move. It must not be used to fighting.


It's making for another charge.

You leap out of the way, swinging your sword at it whilst you do.

You wait for a moment, to ensure that it's close... And then you leap out of the way of the charge, swinging your sword at it. You manage to nail it right in the belly, the blade cleaving through the dragon's scales and into its flesh. It lets out a blood curdling screech, tumbling a bit as it loses its footing before finally falling over onto the ground.


You walk closer, sword at the ready. The dragon twitches slightly, so you bring your blade onto its throat. That killed it, for sure. With the beast slain, you collapse onto the ground, catching your breath. That was... Intense, to say the least. You've never fought a dragon. If the beast were any bigger, you would have lost, no doubt.


Then, you laugh. You laugh until your ribs ache and tears escape your eyes. Then you laugh some more.


You just slayed a dragon. You must be losing your mind to be doing this sort of stuff again.


After a while of laying there, you fall asleep, and in the morning you wake up recharged despite the aching where the dragon rammed into you. You exit the cave, and begin the track on the path. The excitement of fighting such a monstrous beast and living to tell the tale... It's exhilarating. Why has it been so long since you've felt this? You miss it.


You set out to find more beasts to hunt.


THE END
After a moment, you get up from your place on the floor and slowly head up the stairs. Surely you have enough time before Oscar gets back. Once you reach the top of the steps, you find there is a hallway leading to a single door. You approach the door, a sinking feeling in your gut rising all the while. Something isn't right.


You open the door and what you see almost causes you to lose the contents of your stomach.


There in the bed is the corpse of a woman. She's decomposed heavily, and it's clear she's been dead a long while, far too long. Porridge drips from her rotting mouth. It was made recently. This is... Repulsive. Horrific. Wrong.


You're not sure how long you've been standing there, staring at the woman's corpse in shock. It isn't until you hear Oscar's shouting that you realize what you've just found... And rage shakes within you.


You unsheath your sword. "W-wait! I can explain!" Oscar yells, sticking his hands up.

You stay your hand. If he doesn't give an answer you like, you'll kill him.

It takes all your willpower to keep your blade from meeting his flesh. Still, your anger does not subside, and your voice comes out in a low growl when you speak, "What the fuck are you doing?"


It is then that Oscar breaks into tears.He falls to his knees. "I... I... I couldn't bare to lose her! I loved her so much! When she got sick, I was heartbroken... And when she died I couldn't accept it! I didn't want to lose her!" He can't find it in himself to continue, instead letting out a heart wrenching sob. "Please, sir... If you must, end my life. I wish... I wish to buried next to her."


The grip on your sword tightens. You're not sure what to do with this pitiful old man.

You he asked you to kill him. You will, and put him and his wife to rest.

You raise your sword. As gently as you can, you stab his throat. He lets out a pained gurgle, blood filling his esophagus, before finally his lungs are filled and death takes him. You pull out your sword and find his head has nearly been lopped off. Disgusting.


You take his corpse in your hands and take him outside, where you set him down. Then, you do the same with his wife, hauling her outside. You set her down next to her husband, before heading back inside to grab a shovel.


A few hours later, the pair are buried. You head to a nearby tree and cut off a decent sized branch, which you jam into the soil of their grave. There, they shall find rest... As you stand there over their shared grave, you find yourself thinking back to Grace, the hotheaded girl who could conjure fire with but a flick of her palm. What you would give to have been buried next to her.


You set off from the grave.


THE END
It takes all your willpower to keep your blade from meeting his flesh. Still, your anger does not subside, and your voice comes out in a low growl when you speak, "What the fuck are you doing?"


It is then that Oscar breaks into tears.He falls to his knees. "I... I... I couldn't bare to lose her! I loved her so much! When she got sick, I was heartbroken... And when she died I couldn't accept it! I didn't want to lose her!" He can't find it in himself to continue, instead letting out a heart wrenching sob. "Please, sir... If you must, end my life. I wish... I wish to buried next to her."


The grip on your sword tightens. You're not sure what to do with this pitiful old man.

You won't kill him. You know the pain he is going through, has been going through.

With a sigh, you place your sword back onto your back. Then, you kneel down to be at eye level with the sobbing man. Despite the emotions you want to show, you find your voice being almost monotone as you speak. "I know the pain you're going through. I lost my love when she and I were young, far too young. You should be grateful for the time you had with her."


He wipes his eyes slowly, but he says nothing.


"It's time to let go."


With that his tears are dried. It seems as though a weight is lifted from his shoulders with your words.


"I... Thank you, for your words. I'll... I'll bury her, under her favorite tree. You can stay for breakfast, if you'd like. I won't be long." He picks himself up off the floor, and you do as well.


"I think I will." With that, you head downstairs, while Oscar begins to retrieve his wife's corpse. He leaves for the yard, while you sit and wait in his living room. He comes back an hour or so later, makes porridge, and serves it to you. The two of you eat in silence, before you stand and make your leave.


Life must go on. The pain that one endures is what makes them human. You know that all too well.


THE END
No. You won't go quietly. That fire, deep within your soul, it still burns as bright as it ever did. And no two-bit marauders will extinguish it. You swing with more force than you ever have before, take more punishment than you ever have before. Throwing caution to the wind as you try to take down as many of these bastards as you can.


After a while, you think you finally land a hit on their leader, and one hit is all you need. You can tell it's him by the glint of silver decorating his armor. When you land that blow, the others lose their fighting spirit. You plant your sword into the ground, panting as you catch your breath. Then, you turn to them with a sudden jerk of your head, a twisted grin on your face.


"Well? What are you waiting for?"


They stare at you with shock and awe written on their faces. There's only about 16 left. One steps forward. "You... Killed our leader! And most of our band!"


"And I'll kill you too!" You bare your teeth at them for full effect.


Then, they fall to their knees and lay their faces on the ground. You stare at them, still thirsting for blood on your blade. One of them begins to yell, "Lead us into battle, worthy warrior! You've proven that you can kill dozens of men and carry on!"


They're offering you the now vacant spot as their leader.

You won't stoop so low. They're pathetic bandits.

Rage bubbles within you. They think that you want that position? That you'll forgive them of their crimes? You're not going to give them that satisfaction. Instead, you raise your sword, and with a sweeping blow, take out four of them with one swing. The others realize what you're doing and try to run. They don't make it very far.


Soon, you're cleaning your blade in a stream outside of the forest, while binding your wounds. They did a number on you, but you suppose it's just more scars for the collection. It's almost comforting, in a way. Almost.


There's more injustice out there. If anything, now is the time to act.


You set out into the horizon, never once looking back.


THE END
You decide not to bother the wandering trader, instead taking a seat at a table by your lonesome. Eventually, the trader gets up and leaves, heading back to his room for the night. You never see him again. After a few more drinks, you stumble out of the dining hall and up the stairs to your room. There, you throw your sword and knapsack to the floor, before passing out on your bed.


In the morning, you awake to a woman's scream. Groggily, you get up, heading to the door so you can see what the hell is going on - grabbing your sword along the way, of course. When you head down the stairs, you see a pair of thugs roughing up the owner, Isaiah. His daughter Eliza watches on, tears streaming from her eyes, as a third thug holds her back. The two harassing Isaiah stick a lit cigar into his face. This time, it's Isaiah who screams.


The thugs laugh at him, sadistic grins on their faces. Your stomach turns. This is disgusting.


Then, one of the thugs turns his head and looks at you. He whistles, the other two looking at you soon after. One with a strange piercing in his nose lets out a laugh. "Oi, you! Quit yer starin' and get outta here, chump." Perhaps you should do something about this, or not. After all, this doesn't involve you.

You you'll just leave. Doesn't involve you.

You raise your hands, shake your head. "Do what you will. I'm leaving." With those words, you make your way to the door. Eliza shoots a horrified look at you, Isaiah stares at you with pure hatred in his eyes. They must think you're an awful person. You're not; you're just doing what you have to in order to survive.


You exit the inn, leaving the bandits with Isaiah and Eliza. As you leave, you hear another scream, from Isaiah again. Can't be helped. Much as you want to go back in, sword in hand, you don't want to cause more trouble to the town by killing those bandits. All in all, you're doing this for the right reasons... Mostly.


You walk down the road, never returning to the village again.


THE END
You take a moment to think about what you want to say. After a moment, you begin to speak, "Look, kid. Adventuring isn't all that fun. It can be brutal. I had to cut down my fair share of men when I was younger, and while I can live with it, not everyone can. Just keep the store running, like your father would've wanted."

The shopkeeper's face falls. He lets out a sigh, but nods. "... Right. I should probably keep doing that. Settle down, find a wife, too. It's just that ever since I took over the store, no one's coming here anymore. I guess I just don't manage it as well."

"What do you mean? Is there any competition or something?"

He nods. "There's another store across town that opened before my father died. People went there, but they came here more often, because they trusted my father. Now that I've taken over, people don't shop here as much, if at all in a few cases. They don't know me as well as they did my father, so I might as well be another stranger to them... If people come here these days, it's because they want to save time rather than walk across town."

You ponder for a moment. Maybe you could get people to start heading to this store more often? You have your fame to use to your advantage, maybe if you recommend it, more people will come. Alternatively, you can just ignore the boy and leave. You've spent too much time in this town already.

You no, you should just leave now. He can figure this out on his own.

With a shrug and a shake of your head, you reply, "Wish I could help you out, son. I really do. But I've got to get moving on. I've stayed in this city too long already."

He gives you a smile and nods. "Right, right... Sorry that I held you up with all my rambling and complaining. I'll try and sort things out myself. It was nice seeing you again, Sir Kit."

"Yeah, sure was." You turn around and head out the door. For the rest of the day, you mill about Sodran for a while, visiting other places you and your friends visited. A few of the shops have closed down, some of them are under new management. The remainder that haven't changed as much are surprised and pleased to see you.

At the end of the day, you head to an inn near the entrance to the city and sleep. When you awake in the morning, you pack up your things and leave the city behind. Weeks pass as you get further and further away from your former home, then reach a port town by the sea. You pick up transit on a supply ship headed to Cikoni. A few months later, you arrive in the country.

You wander there for a while, unsure what to do. Eventually, you find a small coastal town with few people. There, you take residence in an abandoned shack. To make ends meet, you get a job at a farm, tending to exotic crops you've never seen before. It's strange, but eventually, you think you've got the hang of it.

It's a good life. All in all, better than anything a guy like you could've hoped for.

THE END
This is getting irritating. You told Bertrand to turn anyone away, and the fact that he's ignoring your orders is starting to piss you off a bit. "Go on, Bertrand. Send them away, and don't come back until tomorrow. I don't wish to hear about fools coming to my door."


Bertrand releases a sigh, but nods. "Very well sir. I'll go tell them they're not wanted here." With those words, Bertrand turns and leaves the room. You expect him to come rushing back a few minutes later, but he doesn't. It seems the king's men listened to his demands.


Hours pass until finally, the sun has set and the sky is dark. You're about to head to bed, when you hear a faint voice calling your name out. It doesn't sound like it's someone in trouble, so it's probably nothing.


You lay down, and close your eyes...


"Kit..."


You keep your eyes clenched tight...


"Come to me..."


You grind your teeth together...


"I need to see you..."

You bah, you don't have time for this. You're going to sleep.

You shake your head. You must be going mad to be hearing voices. It would be best not to look into it, for your own sanity if nothing else. You clench your eyes shut and throw a pillow over your head to block the voices out. Within minutes, you manage to doze off, falling into a fitful sleep full of nightmares.

In the morning, you begin to hear the voice again. It beckons for you to come to it, but you don't give in. You spend the day as you normally do, drinking wine and eating bread and passing out late into the night... But the voice does not stop.

This cycle continues for days, then weeks. You try to block the voice out but it keeps coming, and soon, it is joined by even more. Begging for you to come see them. When you resist, the voices continue, increasing in volume and barely contained rage.

One night you wake up in a cold sweat, greeted by the screeches of these specters haunting you. You're not sure how much more of this you can take.

You need to escape, permanently. You reach for the dagger on your bedside.

You can't take it anymore, no matter how hard you try. You reach for the dagger on your bedside, kept there for emergencies that never came. Now, it'll finally see some use. Ripping open your nightshirt's sleeves, you press the dagger against your wrist. The voices cry out for you not to do it, but you don't listen.

You slash downward against your wrist, splitting your veins and an artery. Blood leaks freely from the wound. Then, you do the same with the second wrist, beginning to feel light-headed. The voices continue to screech horrifically. It hurts your head to listen to, and combined with the blood loss makes your dizziness worse.

"You won't take me, you bastards!" you scream out at them, voice hoarse. With what little strength you have left, you pull your head back with one hand. With the other hand, you place the dagger against your throat and take a deep breath. Then, you slash. Darkness overtakes you.

Finally, there is silence.

THE END
Miller nods. "Alright. We don't know of any outposts in those woods, so we should be able to get through undetected." With those words, the three of you continue on to the woods. You walk through the fields without incidence, and get to the edge of the forest in record time.

The three of you march through it, keeping an eye out. You're there for about an hour, continuing to march on, when you hear voices up ahead. The three of you stop in your tracks and get down low, listening. The voices are speaking Kishak. You turn to face your companions. "Can I get a translation?" you ask.

Iris nods, and listens to the voices. Her face goes pale. "... They're talking about how boring it is to be in an outpost in the middle of the woods." You and Miller share a look of surprise, then turn to face the direction of the voices again. A new outpost, one that the military didn't know about.

Miller pipes up. "We go around it as slowly and carefully as we can."

Iris shakes her head. "It can't be that many. We go in there and light them up."

Looks like it's up to you to decide what to do.

You we'll take them down like Iris suggested.

You shake your head at Miller. "Remember, this'll make it easier for the military to come through the area. If we're quick and efficient, we'll barely miss any time."

Iris nods, smiling in approval that you agreed with her.

Miller sighs, shaking his head. "I don't like it."

"Too bad. That's what we're doing. Now come on, let's go." You get up, unhooking your sword from your back, and march towards the voices. As you break through the brush and step into view of the outpost, you're surprised to find a well-defended fort instead of a dingy wooden watchtower like you were expecting. A dozen or so Kishak wander about, waiting for an attack.

"Shi-" Iris' curse is cut off when a bolt flies into her throat, and she collapses to the ground. She twitches for a moment, then goes still. A horn blows, and the soldiers all turn to you. Miller unsheathes his sword and charges at the nearest Kishak soldier, impaling him. He doesn't last long either, however, as a bolt flies true and hits him in the chest, followed by another. For added measure, a soldier runs up and runs his spear through Miller's gut. The knight falls to the ground, dead.

The remaining soldiers turn to you. You sigh, shaking your head. Dumb move. Shouldn't have done it. Now you're dead for sure.

You grin, however. Doesn't mean you won't go down without a fight.

You charge forward with a primal yell, meeting the soldiers head on.

THE END