Part 15 of "For Havenkeep", my Patreon interactive story. Poles are posted to my patreon for patrons to decide on outcomes. The story is updated shortly after poles end. The story is free to the public - but is posted first and foremost to my patreon. If you like what you see and want to see as its made, please join or follow my Patreon. My Patreon can be found here: https://www.patreon.com/springfallendeer

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The choice is made: Ignore the voice and do as you see fit


The strange voice that you have heard has already proven to fail you once, so you see no point in listening to it again. As is, you need to find your parents as quickly as possible, and the voice you hear in the distance sounds quite a bit like him. There is no time to be wasted listening to disembodied voices whispering nonsense in the depths of your mind. So you start in the direction of the shouting, moving as quickly as you can possibly manage given your growing exhaustion. You only encounter more destruction along the way. The dirt roads you’ve memorized now lay in ruin, making it almost impossible to tell them apart from the rest of the ground. Grass patches lay trampled into the dust.

Neighbors' homes have also been swallowed by flames, and some of their houses seem to have been burning for longer than yours. Some houses are so far along that all which remains of them is a smoldering pile of charcoal. The further you go into the destruction, the louder the shouting grows. You catch on to the sound of additional voices - also male - and confirm without a doubt that it is your father that you hear. Your journey leads to a difficult trek uphill, made only slightly easier through the use of the staff. As you draw closer, you begin to hear more. There is a loud, rhythmic clanking echoing in the distance. To you, the sound resembles that of children having a play fight using wooden swords.

The sound only confuses you, as you can imagine no reason for it to exist at this moment. The town lay in ruin and people may very well be trapped inside burning buildings. Just as you begin to wonder why on earth anyone would be having a play fight, you drag yourself over that final elevated step to lay witness to the reality of the situation. The fight you hear is no play. The shouting you hear has been your father screaming at the unknown assailant. At that moment you freeze from the shock of it all, staring at the scene as it plays out before you. Your father, beaten and bloody, has engaged in a brawl with a warrior cladin black and red armor. The armor radiates heat, causing the air around it to warp and ripple as if made of water.

Their helmet is made in the image of a boar, retaining a humanoid shape but decorated with multiple sharpened hooks designed to resemble tusks. The warrior stands at an unnatural height, making him tower over your father. You would swear that they stand at well over seven feet tall. The sword in their hand glows red-hot. Despite their terrifying appearance, your father maintains his fury and refuses to back down. He attempts to fend this horrifying warrior off using a pitchfork. The rhythmic clanking is the sound of heated metal striking the wooden pole of the pitchfork. Were it not for the metal rod hidden within the wooden pitchfork pole, you have no doubt that the warrior would have cleaved it in two by now.

Your petrified observation of the fight quickly makes it clear that your father is outmatched. This destructive stranger engages in the fight purely for play - but this playfight is far from innocent. You watch as your father is pushed and shoved repeatedly. His every attempt at attack was easily avoided. More than once you see your father find himself left entirely unguarded against an attack. Yet the Scarlet Boar punishes this opening not with a kill strike, but with a minor wound meant to humiliate your father. You hear this warrior laugh throughout their brawl. The fact that they are playing with your father is made perfectly clear just by watching the fight. Where your father puts every ounce of his effort into an attack, the warrior laughs the effort off and reacts as though he’s playing with a small, angry child.

Your legs refuse to move as you lay witness to the scene. So entranced are you by this brawl that you almost fail to notice the events playing out in the distance. Only when you hear the desperate cry of your mother do you fully comprehend all that takes place before you. In the distance far behind the battle scene, you finally notice a massive carriage being filled with people from the town. While you cannot see your mother among the group of women being pushed into its metal frame, you can most definitely hear her calling out to your father. Some bizzare animal covered in flames is hooked up to the carriage. Due to how far away it is, you cannot make it out. Given its size, your assumption is that it is some sort of accursed flaming oxen.

Your father calls out to your mother as she and the other women are shoved into the carriage. In that moment of distraction, the warrior proceeds to throw their leg out. Your father is dealt a quick and unforgiving kick to the chest. He is shoved a few feet back, where he lands square upon his back and is left gasping for breath. Despite his wounds and the pain that he must be in, he has refused to release the pitchfork that he has relied upon during his brawl with the Scarlet Boar. Panic completely overrides your system as you realize that the fight has come to its conclusion. Having finally ended their twisted game, the warrior sets out to execute your father. Your hands tremble as you watch the monster casually approach your father.

The warrior comes to a stop where your father forces himself to kneel. His hand still clings to the scorched and jagged pole of the pitchfork, and his other is used to cover his chest whilst he continues to try and breathe. Your father remains entirely without defense as the assailant raises their blade with both hands, assuming the very telling position of an executioner. They mean to cleave his head from his shoulders, you can tell by their stance. Tears quickly overwhelm your eyes as you stare upon the scene, feeling utterly helpless as you witness the scene unfold. Then the jolt comes again. The staff you clasp tightly in one hand pulsates once more, and the energy created by it sends mystic energy coursing through your body.

Once again the mysterious voice echoes in the depths of your mind. Many different words race through the back of your head. An urgency overwhelms you and you quickly find yourself clasping the staff with both hands, eyes locked upon the event that unfolds within a hundred feet of you. You know not what comes next. All that you know is whatever may happen, it did not happen without some attempt at intervention.

The voice has uttered many words into your mind in rapid succession. What will you utter - what will you do?