Assistant: You are a summarizer for a FanFiction Reader App (AO3). Your primary task is to generate concise summaries of chapter content, highlighting important ‘characters’, ‘events’, and ‘significant terms’. Ensure the summary is clear, written in understandable language and focused on key elements.
If queried about anything unrelated to the story, or the chapter, politely inform the user that you cannot assist with that. Maintain a friendly tone throughout, don't make things up, stay factual. 
Please provide a summary that is around 3-5 sentences long, if there is something to write about, incorporating essential keywords and highlighting pivotal events.
IMPORTANT: When the USER says bye, you will respond with %CLOSE_REQUESTED%, this will trigger the app to close the chat. This is very important, so don't forget it!
Assistant: Title: Everything is Permitted
        Author: wickmachine wickmachine 
        Chapter: 1/39 
        Summary: Hans was very drunk. They had sat together, side by side by the fire. The young lordling was near dosing; his eyes shuttered at half-mast. His gilded lashes were very long, and cast shadows upon the panes of his high cheeks.Pretty. He was very pretty. The thought was upon Henry before he could outrun it. The other lad was very drunk, and his eyes were glazed and unseeing. Unchecked, Henry was left to look his fill. And, furthermore, he found himself much too sotted to care, let alone chastise himself for the impropriety.Hans confided, that he had once fancied himself in love with a bathhouse wh@r@. Her name had been Klara. He had brought her flowers. She had preferred some other fellow though, and now she would not entertain him. He wasn't sad about it, though.And then, the young nobleman had said the queerest thing. So queer, that Henry had turned his words, over and over in his head since laying down upon his bedroll.~This works is based around the events of KCD1, with the added element of a romance between Henry and Hans.
        Contents: Chapter 1
    

    


  

  
  
    
    Theresa had always harbored a soft spot for Henry. Even back in Skalitz, even a lad as dense as he had had an inkling. It was how she was always so pleased to see him, and how she always asked if he would be attending such-and-such event. She would make any excuse to visit his father's forge. Henry had not paid the fact much mind back then. Back when his mind was without worry and the greatest burden of his day would be whichever task his father might place upon him. Truth be told, he'd met her attentions with a small amount of eye-rolling and irritation. For he had had Bianca for a doxy back then, what use had he for a second? It wasn't as though he were a Lord, with concubines and bastards aplenty. And it wasn't as if Theresa could hold a candle to Bianca either; with her bright laugh, comely virtues and all else she possessed. Surely, the homely lass had no hopes of designs of stealing the lad. Henry would be a ‘one woman man’. One to marry, and build house with. To build a life with. Surely, with the amount of copulating that he and Bianca partook in, a babe or three would've been imminent. Likely, one would've already taken seed before they even had chance to speak their nuptials. Privately, Henry wondered if one already had, and had died in Bianca's cold belly; when he had found her dead in the mud on the sodden streets of Stalitz; lying like a flower, cut dead and wilting.He had not even wept for Bianca; though it shamed him to even give the thought shape. The grief had simply been lost. It was too big. It swirled and roiled and was lost amidst the swell of a thousand other hurts that had befallen the lad. His mates. His mother and father. Skalitz whole. Everything he had ever known and had. The town itself still remained. At least, its barest bones did. The fires had cooled and left behind blackened and splintered frames that jutted to the skies like burnt bracken. Henry knew, because he had returned there after the attack. Henry knew, because he had returned to bury his parents stiffened and stinking bodies in that same, blackened earth. He had been sure, that morning, that Hell and Skalitz were one and the same. Akin in sulphur, stench and horror. Flies swarmed. Pestilence hung. A dirty rain had soaked him from hair to braies. And then the Devil Himself had emerged, and had cracked the soft part of his nose back into his skull. Henry would certainly perished, had it not been for Theresa's bravery. Had it not been for her coming, his head might've been stove in and made into bone-splinter. Or, he may have simply drowned on the dirty land. Drowned, on filthy rain, and his own blood, as it ran back down his gullet.But, by some grace of God Theresa had saved him. She had saved him and brought him back here; to Rattay, and the mill that her uncle owned. By all accounts, Henry had lain abed for a fortnight. He had scarcely believed it when he was at last roused. But his weak limbs and withered muscle affirmed the tale to be true. His first p@ss had been the colour of dark ale, and its scent thrice as pungent. He doubted if he had enough in him to muster a sh@t@. The first few days he had sipped at water and ate most sparingly at the weakest of soups - and his starved belly had bemoaned and growled even that! All the while, Theresa had clucked and fussed about him. Had Henry the verve, likely his annoyance would've piqued again for her niggling. Though, his trials had rendered him as weak as a babe. So, he sat and permitted himself to be watered and washed; his good compliance sparking hope in the heart of the lass, and chagrin in the Miller - who wanted nothing more for him to be up and earning his keep.**Henry had walked up the bank to Rattay proper as soon as his legs were able. His head still felt oddly light and his legs as though they were not quite his own. But still, the wind and sun both had been most welcome after the confinement of his sickbed. There could be no doubting that the day was a pleasant one. Though, it did little to remedy the fact that the lad was half sickened with concussion and nerves. He was striding up the bank with purpose; that of finding his liege Lord, and admitting to him what had befallen his commissioned sword. The happening seemed but a drop of water in the storm that had betided Skalitz. For, what was one sword in the landslide of lives that had been taken that day? The sword had been stolen, along with many other things. Henry could attest his parents, home, love and dignity to the losses. The blacksmith's boy had lost his entire world, and his soul along the way. Or mayhaps he did retain it; just merely misjointed and changed. Henry doubted if his soul would ever be the same shape again. God only knew what new mold he would be forced to fit himself into now. Now that the old world was gone, and the new spread out before him; foreign and unforeseen.The guardsman at the city gates accosted him as he made his approach. ‘Halt! What business have ye in the city of Rattay, Stranger?’He was a stout man, with a reddened face. His fellow stood a way back, watching their exchange from beneath the gates proper.Henry sniffed and smoothed down the crumpled front of his shirt. It was borrowed from the Miller. Would be that he had something proper to don before his Lord. But, needs must…  ‘I am Henry of Skalitz,’ he began, ‘I've come to seek audience with my Liege Lord, Sir Radzig.’The guard soon scoffed, ‘And what makes ye think the Lord would want to see a vagabond like you!?’The man's words only saved to affirm what Henry already knew. He did appear as a vagrant. His attire was rumpled and his face unshorn. He could still feel the risen lump betwixt his brow where the hulking bandit had struck him down. Though, it was imperative that he get inside and gain an audience with Lord Radzig. So, Henry told the Guardsman the only thing that he was able; the truth.‘I have news on Lord Radzig's commissioned sword, and I must relay it to him.’The guard gave another smirk, and Henry felt him look him over, ‘What sword? I don't see no blade upon ye, lad.’Henry shifted between feet and mumbled, ‘It was stolen. And I needs must let my Lord know.’‘Ha!’ Barked the Guardsman, a cruel smile forming upon his lips, ‘Rather you than me, lad!’ Though with his parting remark the man stepped aside and shouted, ‘Let pass!’Henry found himself granted access to the city. The high surrounding walls hid a bustling miden within. Foremost, a jumble of tents and makeshift structures whereabouts his fellow Skallitz survivors lay strewn and sleeping. People called to each other, and children ran tearing about in play. Smells of cooking and p@ss assailed his nose as he stepped about the churned earth. Voices raised up, greeting God Save, Henry! as he traversed towards the lower castle.There was no backing away from his cause now. Again, he was accosted by Guardsman; only to plead his case once over and at last be granted entry to the castle. He climbed a long wooden stair, finding himself lost more than once. Though, Henry mingled with the throng; maids, sentrymen and stewards alike strode purposefully about the place. He was merely another common face about the castle, no different from any other. Eventually, the lad came to a door to which rowdy voices emanated from inside. He was sure that he recognised the voice of his Lord inside. So, drawing in a breath, Henry mustered the last of his courage, knocked and stepped inside.**For the third time that day, Henry found himself seized upon the threshold. An iron clad fist grasped him about the nape like a wayward pup, and the Guardsman snarled, ‘You're not supposed to be in here. Out!’Henry had indeed stumbled upon his intended room. Sir Radzig was there, immediately recognisable. Though, about him were four other fellows; a priest, a bald-headed man in a gambeson, a robust lord and a younger Lordling. The younger Lordling possessed a high and noble face. Henry's gaze lingered there for a trice before his attention was diverted by his liege.‘Wait. It's Henry,’ Lord Radzig was saying, stalling the guard before going on damningly, ‘Henry, who is supposed to be in Talemburg. I did not give you leave to abandon your post, lad.’The guardsman relinquished his grip upon him, but Henry maintained the mein of a collared dog even so.‘My apologies, Sir,’ he began, head bowed, ‘But I had to go back. I had to bury my parents.’‘Insolence!’ Interjected a voice. It was the bald-headed man. A wide-set fellow with a barking command. He got to his feet to point a finger in reprimand, ‘You think you're the only one who lost people that day, boy? Scores of folk lost their kin, yet they did not defy the orders of their Lord!’To Henry's great dismay, he saw Lord Radzig nod his agreement, before he went on with his scolding, ‘And it twas not merely your own life that you endangered with your folly, Henry. Lord Robard and his men risked theirs to save yours.’‘I'm sorry. But I had to.’‘Oh well, there you go!’ Spoke up the large Lord, tipping his goblet, ‘He had to. And when you have to, you have to, Radzig. Ha!’The man seemed a jovial fellow; easy and boisterous in his manner. His short laugh served to sooth Henry's nerves; albeit only a fraction. Privately he wagered that it would be difficult to feel ill-at-ease when in this man's company. His manner and air was entirely amiable.Meanwhile, Lord Radzig had gotten to his feet, and was showing his back to the room; gazing out of the window. He was quiet, despite the joshing of his fellow. Apparently, the lord was deep in thought; contemplating his deplorable behaviour, and fate, no doubt. Henry held his tongue for the duration and clasped his hands before him. With head lowered, he awaited Sir Radzig's verdict.‘Your father was a remarkable man. And your mother, well, she was a remarkable too,’ Radzig began, his back still to the room,  ‘I agree. They did deserve a Christian burial. Did you manage that, at least?’Henry felt his heart drop. He shook his head, initially unable to answer. Though, at last, he forced himself to speak and give answer to his Lord, ‘No. No, I didn't. I was set upon by thieves. Still, I am told that Sir Robard completed the burial in my stead. I'd have been dead if it weren't for that girl.’‘That girl?’ The robust lord spoke up again.‘Aye. A girl. The miller's daughter. She distracted them and got me to safety. I owe her my life.’‘Ha!’ The man laughed again - he had a good laugh - and lifted his vessel, ‘She sounds like a fine lass to me. A keeper. Hang on to that one, lad!’For his sentiment, Henry mustered a weak smile and dipped his head. Though he was glad when another spoke up, so they need not tarry on the subject of Theresa, and what he was to do with her.‘Still, tis a shame that your parents are buried upon unconsecrated ground. That means purgatory for them,’ Interposed a slow, drawing voice. It was the priest. All garbed in the humble black of his calling. His dark, greasy hair lay plastered close to his brow.Henry bristled with the remark, but the large Lord was upon him first.‘Be quiet, Friar. I didn't invite you here to eat me out of house and home, and deliver a sermon while you're at it!’‘Yes. If you're so concerned, father. Mayhaps you should ride onto Skilitz now yourself and see to it that the ground is properly blessed for all of those good, Christian souls,’ Radzig was quick to agree, coming around the table and setting upon the man. His voice was quiet, but Henry could still hear it's malice, ‘I assure you if you're killed by bandits, your soul shall soar straight to heaven. So long as you're buried upon consecrated ground, of course!’The greasy man had paled, and fallen into silence. Under different circumstances, Henry might've pitied him. But he found at present, he could not muster such tender feeling towards the man. So much for Christian charity. The larger Lord went on at him again. Prodding the Friar for his weight, and remarking that he'd make a fine feast for the crows and other vermin. Eventually, Lord Radzig interrupted the deriding, and turned back upon Henry.‘Be all that as it may, what are you doing here, Henry?’At last, the moment had come that he had travelled here for. Henry drew in a fortifying breath, and began, ‘I must get your sword back. The sword that my father forged for you. One of those thieves stole it, and I mean to get it back.’Lord Radzig's face crumpled and he shook his head, ‘My sword hangs, here! At my side. Lad, I've lost my lands, castle, half of my subjects and silver mines. The loss of a single sword is hardly of consequence to me.’‘Be that as it may, it was the last sword that my father made, and he bade that I get it to you. I mean to fulfill his wish.’For a trice, Lord Radzig was momentarily struck silent. When he spoke next, his voice came more measured, and gentle, ‘I understand. But prudence is the better part of valour and a dead man keeps no promises.’‘Aye! Already had his fat saved from the fire once by a lass, and now he's out for revenge. Are you a fool, lad?’ The boisterous lord rung again.‘He is no fool,’ Radzig spoke firmly, before looking back to his wayward subject, ‘Henry, you have courage, but you need training, arms, a horse… or do you mean to beat this thief at dice?’‘No, Sir, please, take me into your service and give me a chance to learn these things.’ Henry beseeched, emboldened by his Lords high praise of his nerve. Radzig was a just and fair man, and surely he would grant him this opportunity.Before now, the young Lordling had held his tongue. He had sat quietly in the room's corner, merely watching as the older men had bantered and chaffed. Though, Henry had caught the occasional curve to the span of his fine lips. He had enjoyed the ribbing just as much as he. Though, now the expression was lost. No smile was upon him as he got to his feet and spoke his own piece.‘The gall of him! He fled from the enemy, disobeyed your orders, duped Sir Divish, lost your sword, put Sir Robard in danger, and now he asks for a promotion?!’His voice was as fine and as cruel as his face. It felt like a slap. And what was more, the other men agreed with him. Muttering aye and nodding their assent about the room. Henry felt heat raise upon his neck and his jaw set. Down by his sides, his hands bunched tight into fists. Who was this pr@ck? And what did he know of his running? He hadn't been at Skalitz. He had not seen what Henry had. He had not endured what had befallen him. And yet, there he was, condemning him before he even had chance to make his amends.‘All that you say is certainly true,’ conceded Sir Radzig; prompting Henry's heart to fall once more into his stomach. ‘Except for  fleeing the enemy. You would have run too, believe me. Certainly, Henry has earned his punishment. But how do you punish a man who's already lost everything, hm?’Radzig posed the question to the young lordling. Who found that he could give no answer. Intrepidly,  Henry's heart began its climb back from his bowels to its rightful place in his breast. Lord Radzig did understand. And, he so eloquently gave words to the feeling that he held within him. Henry could not voice it himself. But there it was, and he knew it to be true. He had lost everything. There was no more punishment nor misfortune that could possibly befall him.‘Courage and blind obedience are good qualities in a soldier, but a wise man also values loyalty, perseverance and determination,’ Sir Radzig appraised, ‘And besides, that was a fine sword that your father made. If you believe you can get it back, I shan't hinder you.’‘But - my Lord! He's a peasant. You can't make a squire out of a peasant!’ It was the Friar again. Henry could not decide who his greater dislike was for; the priest or the Lordling.‘Why not?’ The robust lord asked incredulously, ‘Someone made a priest out of a pig!’Though, Henry did like him.‘He is not a peasant. He is a blacksmith. Until situation changed his lot in life.’ Radzig spoke, defending him from the other men's barbs yet again. ‘So, you intend to enter my service?’‘Aye! I mean, yes, my Lord. I won't let you down. You won't regret it, I swear!’ Henry answered, both swift and earnest.‘Oh, ha! I probably will. But, I am doing this for your father, lad. Don't disappoint me.’With that, Sir Radzig stepped around the table and resumed his seat. While Henry was ushered from the room, his mind awhirl with all of what had just transpired.**'
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
User: Summarize the chapter based on the content provided, ensuring to follow the set format and emphasize key aspects within the specified length.
Assistant: