Growing stronger by the second, you spy the full syringe and gently lower yourself to pick it up. You grope at the orderly's fat neck until you feel a throbbing artery and plunge the needle into it, expelling the drug into his system. Now he will be out for... well, you don't know. For long enough to escape... you hope!
Guided by the Elders, the leaders of your society on D'Karr, your people have gathered and stored in the Wall of Knowledge all that has been learnt about your world and what is simply referred to as "the space beyond". As a Level 2 construct, you have yet to be allowed even limited access to the Wall, being instructed for now to simply gather more crystals for use in information storage. While your fellow constructs are content with their role and alternate between work and hibernation, you are not...
You, like many orcs who fought for Ostragoth, have found your calling as a sellsword to the highest bidder. Sometimes you have been hired to protect caravans or to raid them, to serve wizards or to slay them. Sometimes you have fought alongside your fellow orcs in these endeavours and sometimes against them. It is all the same to you so long as it pays well and gives you an excuse for some bloodshed...
You half-collapse against an elm tree. The arrow head is still lodged deep in your thigh, throbs like the devil. Gritting your teeth, you stagger onwards through the dusky gloom, panting with tremendous effort. You lean against the bough of a sturdy oak, as if hoping to absorb its strength. Finally, too exhausted to go on, you give in to thoughts of a peaceful eternal sleep, away from this cold, brutal, hopeless world of woes...
Fleeing circumstances even more unpleasant than usual, you have come to Bloodstock, Britain's finest heavy metal festival. Your mission is to make it through the whole of Sunday and watch Megadeth; the band who, more than any other, have influenced your life. But beware! There are many factors out there to ruin your pure enjoyment, end your liberty or your very existence!
"Where are you?" He whispered harshly and noticed his son on the floor. The tone that came next was almost welcoming. "Ah, there you are. It is time, so put your toy away and come here." The little boy kissed his teddy, got to his feet so he could place it in the crib, and his father lifted the axe up high over his head...
You are Severian, only son of the master necromancer of this castle. Growing up schooled by Liches, you showed more interest in the weapon practice you received at the withered hands of armour-clad Wights. At last your father good naturedly confesses defeat and tells you to follow your dream. Taking some adventuring supplies and plenty of money, you head off to the most advanced and populous city in the region... Altgarten.
Mheng had built a labyrinth into which he enjoyed throwing unfortunates and watching them struggle against the traps and monsters that dwelt therein. But you beat the odds and survived. You slew the gigantic reptilian Pit Fiend and clambered up its body to escape the labyrinth. You chased Mheng back to his lair, but he fled and locked the doors behind him...
"Greetings adventurer!" says the mage. "I am Mheng, master of these mountains." He titters to himself, and you begin to have misgivings about embarking upon this magic carpet ride...
Frenchman Street had been decked with lanterns last night, and the jazz clubs thronged with revellers, their faces made oddly skull-like by the half-lights. A bottle of Restoration Ale firmly in hand, you accidentally trod on somebody's foot when exiting the Black Cat. The girl was Creole, and young, and startlingly beautiful, but her mouth twisted into a snarl, and she muttered something under her breath...
"I see you begin to understand... I found that I was capable of transferring the human consciousness directly into another form. I needed a subject - I need to know how much you can mentally endure before becoming insane." Seething with rage, you reach for Tey but pause as you see your outstretched arms. Your limbs, and apparently the rest of your body, now seem to be composed of clay...
You are an adventuring forge-priest of Verlang, and have undertaken many perilous quests across Kakhabad at the behest of your god. You have stared down the Apes of Mauristatia. You have braved the Beastmen of Tinpang Valley. You have even infiltrated the Necromancers' Guild of Throben. But how will you fare in this, your most dangerous adventure? Will you survive the Shrine of the Salamander?
You stand at the prow as your ship cuts through the placid sapphire waters, the hot sun overhead making the sea sparkle. The breeze of your passage provides a welcome cool as you gaze ahead, wary for the emerald patches of shallow water, but mostly your eyes seek the dark mass of your destination: Blackfort Island.
How did you get here? The last thing you remember was being forced to drink the foul-smelling blood. That there was some dark magic in it was certain. But what did it do to you? Welcome to the Island of the Soulless! It was a nice place before you came along...
Infected! You have been tainted with a dreadful bane (or three!) while spending the Night of Ancestors festival in the remote Sempuran hamlet of Darrang. Your mood is dark, filled with dread at the encroaching symptoms of your affliction(s). You must reach the Healer of Halos before you succumb...
You descend into the village to find a celebration in full swing. Farmers and their families are dressed up to resemble ghosts and skeletons. Kegs of ale and barrels of wine have been opened, and food - potatoes, pumpkins, and roast chicken - is piled high on wooden platters. Music is provided by a wandering troupe of players, whose numbers swell as they amble about the community. It must be the Night of Ancestors festival!
What was that! You awaken with a start, but there is nothing there. In fact there is nobody here! All of your fellow mercenaries have disappeared! In their place are a series of messy bloodstains, culminating in a crimson trail of gore that leads up the grassy knoll towards the lone tree at its summit. You begin the ascent, determined to find out what terrible doom has befallen your comrades in the shade of the Pango tree...
"Listen closely," he says, his face contorted by tremendous effort, "You must reach Novgard soon and lead an army to the World-Flame. At first we thought that the death of the Northern World-Flame did not affect ours, but we were wrong. Everywhere the other World-Flames are fading." Your blood chills, the extinction of the World-Flames would plunge the Earth back into the chaos of its formation...
King Ragnar's meddling destroyed the northern World-Flame, and the North began to descend into anarchy. Innshelm's former enemies cared not, struggling instead over the wreckage of its Empire. Only one, the city-state of Talras, sent aid. YOU are the one they sent, a warrior trained in the sword, the bow and the art of magic. It is your mission to travel through the dangers of Innshelm and relight the World-Flame.
You wake up from a dream in which you were being eaten by a ghoul. All you can recall from this nightmare was its teeth biting into your forearm, your blood leaking out on the floor, and your muscles being gnawed on desperately. The sound of the ghoul biting down onto your forearm bone was what woke you up. The crunch... the gurgling... the hissing delight of laughter...
A raging tempest transforms the ocean into seven foot waves. You can barely see anything through the relentless spray, struggle to keep your feet on the turbulent deck - yet somehow keep afloat in this maelstrom. Now, even in this foul night of slashing rain, you can barely make out the familiar shape of a lighthouse. Yet the sheer relief of reaching salvation blinds you to the unnatural eerie glow from its beacon...
You know little of these lands other than that they lie some way off the southern coast of Far Analand. You set sail, the irrepressible lure of adventure in your veins, and the entire archipelago before you. Where are you bound next?
Only a week ago the Globesphere made disconcerting news. Details were sketchy, but New Scientist made an educated speculation surrounding its sonorous name: it had to be a doomsday weapon of some kind. YOU are Sean Calibre, renowned Private Investigator. It is your mission to secure this stolen experiment and return it to Federation custody before terrorists can implement its awful vengeance.
Where the Empire's justice cannot prove guilt or innocence the matter is left in the hands of the gods; or better said: at the claws of a troll. Likewise, those whose guilt is certain are sent, for both may win freedom by venturing into the forsaken lands beyond The Jaw and returning with one token of vindication and absolution: the head of a troll.
In 1757, British victory at Plassey wrought a cataclysm upon the world and mankind came close to extinction. However, even Kali - dark goddess of death - was confounded by such stoic resistance. The year is now 1905. YOU play Captain William Nye of the Warwick garrison - a disgruntled veteran about to embark on his next mission...
With the assistance of the wise wizard Merlin and the dashing Knights of the Round Table, Arthur has ushered in a golden age where all are looked after and causes to complain are few. And now, you have been selected by the wizard himself to undergo a trial; a trial that will decide if you are worthy to join the ranks of the legendary knights!
The Galactic Disposable Cutlery Corporation is not as benevolent as its marketing department would have you believe. It has made you a prisoner by means that are entirely legal but really, really unfair! Can you escape from the clutches of the company that claims to own you? It won't be easy... if only you were a real person...
You are an Astro-Geologist; as such the determination of whether a newly discovered planetary body could hold permanent human settlements is dependent upon your professional opinion. You enjoy the work; it is interesting and stimulating if somewhat lonely. Today, however, will be unlike any other day you've ever experienced...
Even after decades, the dreaded pirate known only as Kurtz still terrorizes travelers on the southern sea. The blood he's spilt could stain the very ocean, and more lives are claimed every month. Even as his death toll rises, many search for Kurtz. Whether for bounty, justice, or fame, these brave souls search for a true demon.
Meeting with friends at some sinister ruins, YOU have stumbled upon a dark, terrifying secret. The evil house of Drumer was destroyed months ago - but now bloodthirsty acolytes are seeking to restore this abhorrent power. YOU have become a clear threat to their dire plans and the forces of hell are bent upon preventing your escape. Your only chance is to outrun this relentless onslaught, seek divine weapons, and end utterly the Curse of Drumer!
Judea groans under the rule of the Roman Empire, its king, Herod Agrippa II, nothing more than a puppet for the Roman governor. Some demand action against the Romans, others believe it a mistake to antagonise their masters. And there is turmoil between the different Jewish sects and with the new religion that has grown recently, spreading throughout the Roman World and threatening the Jewish faith: Christianity.
In the magical land of Generica, a wondrous region ruled by the harsh and not particularly fair King Melchion the Despicable, you are Davor, a humble wizard trying to make his way in life. Usually you spend your time ridding cellars of rats or casting love enchantments for pimply teens. But today you are to be hired by a client with a very different problem indeed.
The ship is now sinking fast. The rest of the crew are on the lifeboats heading to the island. You notice that they haven't left you one. They see you as responsible for causing this disaster and if they catch you on the island they will probably skin you alive. However, the island is the only escape you've got...
So after five years, you tell your parents that you are leaving to be an adventurer and have a better life. Your mother is distraught, but your father barely bats an eyelid. You tell him that you are going to seek the medallion of his ancestors. At the mention of it, he becomes livid "Listen you worm! If you go looking for that, you'd better never come back, because I swear I will kill you!"
Tomorrow is the 14th of Snow's Cloak, the Midwinter Festival and all Arion is preparing for the festivities. All that is except you - Ethelred Samiar, the Baron Den Snau. You have no time for the present giving and "good will to all men" that this sanctimonious holiday demands. No, you have great plans for tomorrow. The Love of Libra Orphanage has failed to pay back the money you lent them and you're going to have the place closed down tomorrow.
It was supposed to be an uneventful trip back to Amorphonon 12, but of course something had to go wrong. Your ship has crashed on an arid world, amidst the remains of a once-great civilisation. What happened to them? Not that it really matters. The rescue ship will be here in 3 days, so there is no need to explore the ruins. I mean, something might happen to you...
You bellow out for assistance, but your calls are met only by the eternal silence. Such is the way it has been for as long as you have known - there is no reason to expect anything different today.
Your girlfriend is torn from you by legal technicalities. Can you get her back by performing a series of seemingly unrelated tasks to save your former employers, those innocent, yet homicidal, treemaids?
Legend has it that whenever the full moon shines upon the Garden of Bones its gates creak open once more. Though the undead remain trapped inside, it is possible for the living to enter their shadow realm. Many an adventurer has entered the Garden in search of the fabled Scythe of Morbius Kane. None have returned - at least none alive.
Is it a fish? Is it a boat? No! It's... well actually it's kind of a fish and a boat. Anyway, it's really big and dangerous, and you have to do something about it. Can you unravel the mysteries of the Hypertrout, escape with your life, and cover yourself in glory? Actually, just escaping with your life will be enough.
Fresh from battling giant, demi-human spiders from Arachnon, our hero once more finds himself thrust into the bosom of adventure. Can you retrieve the Golden Crate from the evil clutches of the arch villain? Great obstacles stand in your way, such as: Space Pirates, Insane Computers, The Outlawed Concept of Time Travel, and at long last: a Death-bot. Succeed, and you will be able to have a girlfriend! Fail, and a host of interesting fates await you.
From a young age, you have dreamt of an adventurous life but felt too unprepared. You would constantly spy on the training ground from your window, learning then practicing the art of swordplay and combat manoeuvres in the confines of your room. Now, growing into adulthood, you find that your arduous work has built up your strength and confidence. Soon you will be ready to join the world's heroes on a path of adventure.
Thus far, supernatural sightings have been rare enough to the point that those who claim to have encountered these beings are ridiculed and dismissed as charlatans, liars, or insane. You, however, know enough of the truth to carry out your thankless deeds, buoyed by the cold arms of vengeance.
Giving up, you slip into the ship and the hatch closes behind you. Slumping in the large comfortable chair that dominates the interior of the small ship, you feel a deep despair. You have never even been to Earth, growing up as you did on the excitement-packed manufacturing planetoid of G15-275. Even so, you are determined to save it, and the treemaids as well. But how to do it?
You awake, screaming. You look around in a panic. Everything is in order. Everything is in place. You slowly calm down and consider your situation. You are an unnamed beggar of the infamous Port Blacksand. You know nothing of your past except for a vague belief, fuelled by terrible dreams, that you were once someone important, someone powerful.
The lady's journey smells dangerous, but you are curious as well. For many moments you stand as the breeze cools you, turning things over in your mind. At least she will be heading north, away from the arid lands. Wandering up the street in search of an inn, you contemplate the idea of sleeping in, perhaps in the arms of a perfumed lady. Yet adventure is calling...
You squint about and see that the decks are completely abandoned. Examining an electronic noticeboard, you see it filled with a star scape dominated by an uncomfortably large star. Superimposed on top are large flashing red letters that read "STELLAR COLLISION IMMINENT".
'Nail him!' snarls Saul triumphantly. One man is holding a long iron nail and a hammer. You renew your struggle, but your arm is held in a vice-like grip. The nail is placed on your wrist and the hammer is brought down on its head. Your whole body is wracked with pain as the hammer nails your bloody wrist into the wood of the cross.
"Row, wretch!" howled an obese Man-Orc taskmaster, lashing your back with a blow from his spiked whip. Days passed and the welts on your back grew longer, as your slave-ship, the Blood Auk, headed southwards. Captained by a furious red-faced man called Kullion the Crab, the ship was sailing for the Blood Islands, for it was part of the fleet of the Chaos Pirates, who flock to those shores like seabirds to the carcass of a whale.
Poor weather has slowed you considerably and you have only enough food for two more days. You know you are getting close to Grimwoden, but it could take you weeks yet to locate, and your path back to civilisation is even longer still. As the wind howls through the night outside your tent, you reflect grimly that you are almost certainly doomed.