Ananke is a text-based adventure. Enter your name.

Are you sure this is your name? (Y/N)

You awaken to the sun blinding you. As your eyes accustom themselves to the light, an open hand blocks the sun.
“Grab my hand.”

You cannot fornicate while trapped.
“Are you awake? I said grab my hand.”

You’re pulled out of the grave. Reaching the surface, you see the man’s covered neck-down with a cloak hiding his feet. As he lets go, you see he wears gloves, with a hat and scarf hiding his eyes and mouth. All his clothing is black and filthy. The only skin you see is part of his deformed, flat nose.
In the distance, you see a town, its stone-and-wood buildings collapsed and ash-covered. Near your grave, a shovel and backpack beside it, is an endless row of tombstones, all of them destroyed or defiled with the text “Savage to the Duke”. Your bare feet lay on the stone path.
“It is good you are alive. I have been here for a couple hours now. When I heard kicking, I dug as fast as I could. Are you okay?”

“Other than a few neck scars, you look healthy for a buried man. I cannot say the same for your brain, though.”

“Did you lose your voice or are you scared to speak? Try speaking properly.”

“Much better. You are regaining your senses.”
The man grabs his shovel and backpack before turning to face the town.
“I assume you used to live here in Little Denby. I heard Talholme’s knights celebrating over this place, so I came. You are the only resident here still alive.”

“Are you alright? Of course I can. What makes you think I cannot?”

“For a man with his roots burned, you are correct. Many people like you, though not being buried, decided their best action would be to sneak into Talholme. They pretended they were from Densville or Minkshelm, so they would not be drawn and quartered upon arrival.”

“To delve into the beast’s belly as a means to escape. How lost the people of Little Denby are, yearning for a leader.”

“I have to stay a bit longer, but the people that took me here will give you a ride. Follow the path away from the town and they should be waiting in their carriage. Before you go, take these.”
The man reaches into his backpack, pulls out a pair of pristine shoes, and hands them to you. As you put them on, he also gives you a couple silver coins.
“I will eventually meet you at Talholme with my partner. See you then, and remember: Other Little Denby citizens are there.”
The man disappears into the town’s ruins.

You have 15 silver coins.

As you walk further away from town, ash covers less of the environment. For a while, you see only the path, until you notice a sign and ahead a carriage. Passing the sign, you turn around to see “Welcome to Little Denby” defiled, “Little Denby” crossed out and replaced with “The Savage’s Land”. Getting closer to the carriage, you see a large, bald man. He wears a dirty tunic and a backpack, talking to somebody inside the carriage.
“He’s not gonna show up! Saying he had to do ‘something’. How long’s that ‘something’ gonna take? Another hour? A day? Waiting a day back in Little Denby just so he’ll finish his work? What a joke! And you wanted to help him out! We should leave before the sun sets.”

The stranger turns around. From the carriage pokes out a beautiful woman wearing a white dress. The stranger reaches into his backpack and pulls out a knife.
“Hey! Who are you?”

“Talholme? I told you Mary, this scoundrel’s bringing the knights that ruined our home back to their nest.”
The stranger juts his knife out.
“I should gut you while you’ve got nothing.”
“Oh, stop it John! Let the man speak!”
Mary exits out of the carriage and stands by John. She tries to pull him back but he remains entrenched.

Mary pulls John back, his still-raised hand holding the knife.
“How do I know you’re telling the tru-”
“John, stop! If he really was a Talholme knight, you think he’d be unarmed or asking us for a ride?”
John lowers his hand, putting the knife back in his backpack. Mary puts her hand out to you.
“Good to meet you, Cain! It’s nice to know that others like us still exist outside of Talholme.”

“Even though we…”
John coughs.
“...appreciate the company, it’s disappointing you’re also going to Talholme. It’s a mess there.”
“That’s the least of it! It’s a den for crooks and demons. How we’ve become complacent living in the Duke’s home instead of killing him and his knights is a travesty. How I’d love to ki-”
Mary grabs John’s hand and whispers into his ear. He looks over to see the sun setting.
“Crap, we gotta go now. Mary, get in the carriage. I’ll get the horses ready.”
As Mary opens the door to the carriage, John reaches in, placing his backpack there. He pulls out a small hay bundle before going to the carriage’s horses. Mary sits in the front, keeping the door open as she looks at you.
“Are you coming with us?”
“Us? You want to let him in our carriage? You know him less than the other guy and you want to sneak him into Talholme?”
“He’s one of us! If you were in the same situation, wouldn’t you want someone to look out for you?”
John pauses.
“Could we at least charge him? Hey, buddy, how much mon-”
Mary hugs John.
“Okay. Get in, Dane.”

You sit cramped in the back, most of the space taken by cargo. John’s backpack is next to you. Outside, John finishes feeding the horses and climbs into the carriage’s front. He grabs the horses’ reins, then pulls back, the carriage following the path. John and Mary repeatedly look back - John, with grimace, Mary, with a smile.
“So, Dan-
“His name is Cain, John”
“Cain, why were you still in Little Denby? Ever since the Duke ordered that place be burned down, it’s been a ghost town.”

John continues looking ahead while Mary leans out of her seat, patting you on the back.
“I’m sorry for your loss. They must’ve been wonderful people.”
“Considering you stayed in Little Denby because of your family’s death, what made you leave?”

“And the man, You don’t know him?”

“No. The man came up to me while we were getting goods from Densville and asked if I could take him to Little Denby. Said he wanted to do something for his boss. Told him I wouldn’t. He begged, so I said I’d do it for five coins. Was still too much for him. Told him to buzz off but someone…”
John looks at Mary.
…was there and felt bad for him. Said he looked ‘anemic’ and needed our help. Came back to him waiting in the same place and I said my mind changed, that he should thank my wife for the free trip. He thanked her but said he was disappointed it didn’t come from me. When we got to Little Denby, he blessed us, requested we wait for him, then told me he wished I did more.”
John laughs.
“What a fool, expecting good will in this world.”
“He was a sweet man, though. Very nice. And it because of him, we found you, another person from Little Denby.”

John looks at the sun setting, then pulls the reins back; the horses speed up.
“So, Cain, what’d you do in Little Denby?”

“Is that the case? I've had many issues with my carriage before. When I asked who’d be able to fix it for me, your shop was never brought up.”

“Possibly. But after all my time there, I should’ve heard about your place. Would’ve saved me a lot of money, assuming your prices were fair.”

Inside is a knife and a hundred silver coins. The knife’s handle is covered by black and brown yarn stripes. The metal has “Laws of Nature” engraved.

You put the knife in your pocket.

“Who was that other person? What was the name of his place?”

“So you worked at a place you don’t remember the name of and after that, ran a store I, someone who got help from a lot of repair shops, never heard of?”

“Are you? You can barely tell me any details about your store or who you worked for previously. That and you said you’ve been scavenging since Little Denby burnt down yet you’ve got such a nice pair of-”
“John, can you stop interrogating him? Cain’s still recovering from the loss of his family. The least you can do is not delve into his personal life.”
“I’m sorry, Mary. His story’s suspicious, that’s all.”
“You ask him about his family business after his family died and you don’t think that’d mess with what he remembers?”
Mary turns back to you.
“Sorry, Cain. John’s only messing with you because it’s the first time he’s met someone with a story similar to his. He did his job, transporting goods and people between towns, but otherwise stuck to himself. I met him while he was repairing his wheels and asked if this was his first time in Little Denby. Turns out he’d been there longer than me.”
“You’re overexaggerating. People knew me. I had a reputation.”
“You were only known by merchants as the man they’d go to if they wanted something shipped. You were a service. Nobody knew you existed and those that did didn’t know who you were:”
Mary smiles and puts her hand around John’ shoulder.
“...a sweet, though somewhat immoral man.”
“Hey, in this world, just keeping to yourself should deem you an angel.”
“Maybe so. I just wish you’d do more.”

“Don’t worry about i-”
John tightens his grip on the reins.
“They’re gonna rob us. That's what they’re gonna do. We’re gonna get to the gates and because of a ‘credence fee’ or whatever lie the knights make, we’ll need to pay 10 coins. Then I’ll have to pay a ‘gratuity fee’, so they don’t do a ‘random inspection’ and skim off the cargo.”
“Don’t worry about not having the money for it, Cain. We’ll cover your expenses.”
John grips the reins harder.

“Yeah. When they see my carriage coming, they know it’s me. Every time I come through, they give me a weird look because they know I don’t like them.”
“They don’t know that. They give everybody that look.”
“No. They only give it to me, and I’m glad.”

“What’s with all these questions? I don’t know what’s in the cargo. The only time I get told is if the giver feels like saying what it is or the receiver complains.”

“We’re almost there!”
Mary pats John on the back.

Mary continues patting John’s back.
“Cain, when we get to Talholme’s gates, just follow us. Say you’re from Minkshelm and John’s payment will take care of the rest. When we get inside, we’ll acquaint you with the others from Little Denby. I’m sure they’d love to have another repairman from the old days.”
“Is that all we’re ever gonna do? Try and relive the old days in an environment trying to kill us?”
“John, please stop talking like this. Nobody wants to be hanged for going against the Duke.”
“Alright, fine. I get it. I just wish someone would stand up against him.”
John takes a deep breath with Mary rubbing his shoulder.

“Can’t you do it in the carriage or wait until we get to Talholme?”
“John, the man’s asking for a nicer spot than this carriage to mourn his wife and child.”
John shifts the reins to the left, the horses going off the path.
“How far from the path do you want me to go?”

The sun’s almost set as the carriage stops at a tree far from the path. John gets out and walks around while Mary stays.
“I’m sorry John’s been questioning you so much. Even if it doesn’t look like it, he's glad you came with us and is sorry for your loss - this is just how he treats everybody. I’ll stay in the carriage and let you go out to pray, but if there’s anything John and I can do, let us know.”

It rests in your hand.

Before Mary can react, the knife goes through her dress and into her stomach. A loud shrill comes from her. John runs back to the carriage.

The knife slashes her neck, her blood spewing onto your face. Her screams stop as her body slouches down on her seat. John pulls the door open.
“I’ll gut you!”

As John punches you in the stomach, the knife enters his head. He continues hitting you, his punches slowing down.

The knife pierces another part of his head. His hands stop moving. His body falls on you before slamming against the floor. You’re badly bruised; your chest puts you in terrible pain every time you breathe.

The knife goes through her dress again into her back. Her body doesn’t move.

You put another hole in his head. His body doesn’t move.

Another slash through his head does nothing.

His face is unrecognizable.

Everything is covered in blood.

You put it over your shoulders.

All the boxes are filled with hay, fruit, copper, iron, and other raw materials.

You find nothing.

You find nothing.

The horses go.

You fall off as the carriage continues past the tree.

The night’s pitch as you hear your shoes touch stone again. You can only see the moon.

You continue onwards.

You arrive at Talholme. At its gate, two knights look at you.

As you get closer, the knights pull their swords out.
“Stop right there! Why are you covered in blood?”

“When did this happen?”

The knights look at each other before lowering their swords and grabbing the backpack.
“Alright, sir. We’ll get our fellow knights to look into this as soon as the sun rises. Robert, open the gate!”
The knights step aside as the gate opens.

“Maybe. Come back here tomorrow. In the meantime, welcome to Talhome.”

Entering Talholme, the city’s intricate brick buildings over you, blocking out the moon. You hear occasional chatting as only a few shops remain open, these stores’ lights letting you see what’s around.

You turn to see the two knights around the backpack, dividing the money between them.
“Continue forward all the way down until you get to Hughes. Take a left there, then take a right on Williams. You’ll end up at Cassian’s.”
“And tell the owner we said hello!”
The two laugh as the guard near the windlass comes up to them.
“Hey, where’s my cut?”
“Why do you think you were the only one to get coins from the geezer?”

The further you continue into the city, the shoddier the buildings get. Trash builds up on the street, with your movement becoming erratic to avoid sludge piles.

The buildings around you now are falling apart, their insides exposed for you to see those within. The street’s filth is no longer an obstacle but something you walk over. The odor is now unavoidable and bloats your nose.
After trenching through the garbage, you finally see Cassian’s on your left. The inn, though towering over the shacks nearby, has a rotting exterior with a faint light coming from within. The door’s handle has been broken off.

Pulling on the handle’s remains, you enter to see the inn’s furniture has been broken apart and scattered around. Dips of blood scatter the floor. In front of you is a desk with a bell on it and a door behind it. To the room’s side are stairs. Nobody’s here.

A small boy in ragged clothing enters from behind the counter, leaving the door slightly open. He puts his hand out.
“Welcome to Cassian’s, sir!”

“No. That’s my father, but he got into an incident, so I’m taking over for him. For how long will you be staying?”

“Yeah. I just haven’t had the time to clean it up yet. Again, how long are you staying here for?”

The boy looks around the room before leaning towards you.
“W-Why would you think that? Cassian’s is honored by Talholme’s knights. Now, how long?”

“Tom… come back.”
The boy rushes into the back room, then closes its door. After a minute, he slowly comes out. Before the boy can close the door, you see inside an old man resting, his head swelling and cuts all over his body.
“My father wants to give you this.”
He reaches under the counter, and pulls out a key.
“Second floor, at the end of the hallway on the right side.”

“One last thing: My father says we need to stick together, so if you need any help, feel free to ask.”

“Give me a second.”
The boy re-enters the back room, then comes back with a non-bloody shirt, pants, and shoes.
“Here. And sorry that I forgot to ask earlier, but what’s your name?”

Walking up the stairs then past the room, the rest of the inn is well-kept in spite of its fading color and rugged aesthetic. You open your door to see a small room with a bed, window, table, and chair.

You set your old clothing aside as you wear something non-bloody.

You lay in your bed, close your eyes, and wait for the sun to rise.

You get out of bed. The sky’s still black.

You lay in your bed and plan to stay there for the next eight hours.

You get out of bed. The sky’s still black.

You lay in your bed, close your eyes, and wait for the sun to rise.

You are currently sleeping.

You get out of bed. The sky’s still black.

You are still in bed. Light shines on you.

You see the sun is now up.

You’re now back in the hallway.

As you head down, you see yesterday’s broken furniture and stains have mostly been cleaned up. The boy runs from behind the counter to approach you.
“How are you doing, sir? I hope your sleep was good.”

“Sir, are you fine? Your speaking is slurred.”

“That’s good. You had me worried there, sir. Now, is there anything you need?”

“I’m alright. My father’s still recovering, and as you can see, this room’s cleaner than it was before.

“He’s recovering quickly! He should be back to running this inn in a week.”

“What’s a video game?”

“No. We used to live in Minkshelm, but moved here for a job opportunity; that was before the Duke came in and took everything over. Also, sir, what’s with all the questions?

“Well, I appreciate that, but I’m about to go run some errands. Do you have any more questions?”

“Real?”

“Of course I am! What would make you think otherwise?”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, sir, you get used to it in Talholme. Anyway, I have to go now. I hope you do well!”

“Sir, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
The boy tugs on your shirt.
“You need to get out of here.”

“I was out getting food when some man entered the town screaming your name and how he was gonna gut you.”

“Just a couple knights, no woman. Do you know this man?”

You have a knife.

You have 0 coins in your pocket.

The boy’s father is sleeping.

The blood covering the tip has now dried, tinting the metal red and covering the words on it.
“Sir, the man has multiple knights with him. It’s best if you run out the back.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We-we don’t have any left.”
The boy cries.

The knife tears through his pants and penetrates his skin. The boy’s screaming is mostly silenced by your hand.

“There are-are good people here that h-help others out.”

As your knife plunges into the boy’s other leg, he screams into your hand and the inn’s door busts open.
“It’s him!”
Three knights enter the inn. They hold their swords at you.
“Let go of Tom!”

“You’re not getting out of here.”
Three more knights come from the inn’s back room. The disturbance wakes up the boy’s father, putting him into shock.

“For Mary!”
You’re torn away from the boy as a bald man rushes you from behind and pins you against the wall. As he repeatedly punches you, you see multiple scars on his head.

As you again stab John in the hand, he punches you in the chest, finally breaking your ribs. His punches start to slow down.

The knife rips through John’s head, intensifying his bleeding. He throws one last punch at you, breaking your nose, before falling to the ground.
With the boy now in the back room tending to his father, the knights, all holding their swords, corner you.

The closest guard pulls you forward then handcuffs you. He kicks the back of your head, knocking you out.

A knight rattles the bars.
“Wake up. You’ve got a visitor.”
You’re lying inside a damp cell with nothing in it. Your only light comes from a hallway window you can’t see. The knight leaves your purview.
“Knight, let the visitor into the savage’s cell.”
“Savage? We burned that place down two months ago and those creatures still exist?”
“Guess we missed a few. Has the Duke been notified yet?”
“Mostly, yeah. One of the knights is still interviewing the boy, so he’ll report whatever was said to the Duke when it’s done and he'll likely show up to the trial.”
“Good.”
A door opens. The sounds of three pairs of footsteps and nail-dragging get closer. You can finally see them: two guards, the man in black, and a creature behind him. She has a distorted, feminine figure, covered by clean white robes. Her head - a collage of scars on a white canvas - stares into a book she holds with her right hand. She uses her left hand’s fingers, elongated with sharp nails, to write into the book. The page never turns. The etching never stops.
“Visitor, you can talk to the savage now.”
“What did you do?”

The man grabs the bars.
“You are lying. You are going to be killed at midnight. Lying will not save you.”

The knights don’t move nor blink.
“I am giving you one last chance to salvage this situation: When they put you in front of the crowd and ask for your response, be honest.”

“A man you slaughtered for his money? A boy who had been helpful to you since you entered his inn, yet you almost killed him because you believed he stole what you killed for?”

The man raises his hat to reveal his eyes: an endless void, yet you can feel his pupils staring.
“Check your pockets.”

You have a million coins.

You have nothing in your pockets to grab.

I gave back to the merchant what was left of his money, and restituted what he had lost with information. I gave him the same opportunity as you, and now he will be remembered as a hero.”

There’s nothing to punch.
“Does man repay the world he owes? My colleagues disagree - that is why she is here - but they have given me some leniency to prove them wrong.”

“It is going to be difficult to salvage what you did; I will need a couple better examples after. But you can still help man if you tell the truth when asked.”

The man lowers his hat, covering his eyes again.
“May God judge you instead.”
The man walks off with the woman following. The knights turn to the man then back at you.
“What a freak. He just looked at the savage for five seconds then walked away.”
“A man gets the company he deserves.”

Two knights enter your cell.
“Turn around.”

The knights put cuffs on your hand and legs, then a bag over your head. They drag you out. Though you can’t see anything, the sound goes from feet dragging to a crowd’s ramblings as you’re pulled up a flight of stairs. You’re finally unmasked to see a crowd of hundreds go quiet as they all turn to look at you. One of the knight dragging you pulls out a piece of paper. It’s night.
“Cain, you have been charged with two counts of murder, two counts of attempted murder, and one count of aggravated robbery. What do you say in regards to these charges?”
Cain looks back at his notes and types what he wrote.

Murmurs spread throughout the crowd:
“Why are they gonna kill an innocent man?”
“Just another instance of the Duke going after good people.”
“Let’s hope they stop the trial.”
The more the crowd talks, the louder they get, until another man comes on the stand, making them silent. He’s tall and standing upright. He wears clean silk and a gold crown.
“Guards, silence this man.”
A gag is placed around your mouth.
“What did all of you think of what the savage had to say?”
The crowd goes back to talking:
“Huh?”
“A ‘savage’?”
“What is he talking about?”
“Did the savage not mention that he’s from Little Denby, not Minkshelm? Knights, bring Tom onto the stage.”
Two knights help carry the boy onto the stage. His legs are busted. The crowd gasps as they see the boy struggle to move towards a chair before falling onto the ground.

“This proud Talholme citizen asked the savage where he was from, and he said Little Denby! When this creature told the knights his story, he lied and said he was from Minkshelm. It was only thanks to John, a brave Talholme citizen whom this savage calls a thief, that the knights realized he was lying. It’s a shame we couldn’t save John’s wife Mary, another proud Talholme citizen, nor John himself, for he represented this city’s values by sacrificing himself to save a child. Thanks to him, this city watches a murderer face justice instead of mourning the death of a poor boy, fearful his killer would strike again.
Now, did the savage tell you any of this? Did he mention he defines self-defense as stabbing a boy’s legs, permanently crippling him? Did he say he held the boy hostage afterwards and threatened to torture him if he didn’t give his father’s money? Did the savage also recount when he put the boy’s father into a state of shock, worsening his condition and almost killing him were it not for his son’s help? No!

Rather, in the face of all the cruelty he’s committed, all the heinous acts he’s done, what does the savage say when given the opportunity to speak? Does he apologize for his actions, owning up to his nature and admitting he’s a tenth of the man Talholme’s heroes like John were? Of course not! Instead, he creates lies, falsehoods to divert attention from the matter that he killed a couple and, if given the opportunity, would’ve killed a child. This savage feels no remorse for what he’s done. He can’t fathom the possibility that what he did was cruel and inhumane because it’s impossible for him.
These outsiders have no conscience. It’s telling that someone outside Talholme, a savage, only got in by killing and stealing, and it’s no surprise that when given the opportunity, he continued to kill and steal. Imagine if our knights had not destroyed Little Denby and instead this rat had a hundred of his fellow parasites backing him up. The chaos that would be reigning in this town would be indescribable.

Do you see why it’s necessary our knights must go out and vanquish these threats before they come to our town? Why we must take the fight to their home, else they bring it to ours? We have a duty to all the Johns and Marys of Talholme to stop this infection from spreading, to kill it at its source. It’s what they would’ve wanted and I, the Duke, will execute their wishes.”
The crowd cheers.
“So what should we do to a savage, whether from Little Denby or Minkshelm, that wishes to destroy our lives? A savage that perfectly encapsulates the vices and malevolence our enemies have?
The crowd’s ravings coalesce into one singular, repeating message:
“Hang him!”
“If it’s what Talholme wants, it’s what they’ll get.”
The crowd cheers louder than before.
“We love you, Duke!”
“God bless Duke!”
“Save us from Minkshelm, Duke!”
“You’re a hero, Duke!”
The Duke, smiling, turns you around. You see the noose behind you and the hatch underneath it.
“Thanks for helping me out. You at least deserve to see what’s gonna kill you.”

The Duke turns you around, pulls you up, then puts the noose around your neck. He grabs the gallow’s lever.
“For John, Mary, Tim, and the people of Talholme!”
The crowd’s joy becomes deafening. People scream in delight, cheerful of a new enemy that needs slaying. In the crowd remain a sorrowful few, whispering to others how they regretted their hatred towards the Duke or that even if they still disliked him, they considered him a necessary evil to preserve Talholme.
“God bless Duke!”
“God bless Duke!”
“God bless Duke!”
“God bless Duke!”
As the Duke pulls the lever, everything stops. You hear nothing, except nail-dragging. The Duke first disappears, then parts of the crowd until everything's gone. All that remains is a man in dirty black robes. He looks up at you and raises his hat, so his eyes stare into yours. He then takes off his scarf to reveal the rest of his face. His nose is non-existent, just two holes and a lump sticking out of his head. His lips have been peeled off, showing his infected gums and rotting, yet abundant, teeth. He pushes through the crowd, now silhouettes, before stepping onto the stage.
“My father is not going to be happy about this. Of course, he is not going to like how he trusted me with this and I failed, but there are things I will have to tell him about it: saying me and him were ropemakers, you going through my computer, the various ways you thought to steal Ananke’s rights or to pitch it to people, trying to see if your friend Jim can port this game. B-b-b-b-b-but you know that, M-M-M-M-Mr. Cain.”
The Judge laughs, his teeth chattering as he goes to the lever and pulls it down.
“Your fate has always been to die hanged.”