All your life, you dream of adventure: knights, dragons, magic rings, chests of gold, and all the danger and glory that awaits a professional swordswoman. But every dream has a cost. You are on your way across the desert wastes to compete in the Warrior Games when your caravan is attacked. Orcs and bandits murder your father, capture your companions, and leave you for dead.
Now alone in the world, will you choose to seek glory, vengeance, treasure... or love?
In this licensed adaptation of an original 1980s fantasy gamebook, your choices will lead to one of 22 different endings!
A hot sun beats down on you even as sunset draws close.
You shift in your saddle as your father, General Hamroth, orders, "Halt!"
He motions you to dismount.
The caravaners who have been guiding you across the colored sands and rocky terrain of the wastes are hurrying. They use their robes and banners as tents against the sun.
Their leader, Ranth, salutes you and your father.
Hamroth turns to answer your question before you can even ask, putting an affectionate arm around your shoulders.
You groan, but stop as you see your father's eyebrow rise. You remind yourself that the reason you've come across the wastes is to toughen you on your journey to the Warrior Games.
You dress in light battle gear: ring mail, sword, small bow, with a dagger at your waist, over your dusty riding boots and trousers and full-sleeved blouse.
You lean over to braid your auburn hair so that you may tuck it under the lightweight helmet.
The spot where the blue dragon died became a mighty spring, which spills into a lake and then runs across the desert as the river Ashkaraneth.
Someday, you hope, you will do deeds as glorious as Neron. It's why you're a warrior.
Hamroth shakes his head no.
You finish his thought for him and give him a light kiss.
At least, you think, not until you've had the chance to do exciting things and perhaps win a great fortune!
The only treasure your father has left from his career is a gift from the elves, a cloak of concealment which he carries everywhere with him. It is a wonderful thing to own, but there are many other wonderful things in the world.
Your father sighs.
Suddenly, real screams tear the night.
Your companions run in confusion as terrifying war yelps come from what must be maddened orcs!
Your father jumps to his feet, grabbing his elven cloak of concealment. He throws the cloak about you before drawing his sword.
He runs into the night, his sword readied to protect the fleeing wagoners.
Weapons clash and steel rings, shattering the once peaceful calm of the wasteland. You can hear Ranth giving his tribesmen orders to fight.
You can't see much through the cloak. It wasn't meant to be transparent, but you can hear the noise and the shouts and the cries of pain. Bodies thud to the ground near you.
Your heart beats wildly in fright! But you can't let your father fight alone against so many orcs.
They crash through the camp, gnashing their tusks and chasing the terrified caravaners. They can't see you as you race after your father, but your sword hangs in front of you as though enchanted. They yelp in fear.
You feel a little guilty – it is not a fair battle – but the orcs are swarming everywhere. You must help your father!
Even as you reach his side, he stumbles. His opponent howls in triumph. The orc leader shakes his war club in fury.
Your father doubles over, his sword falling! He has been wounded!
You step in front to protect him from another blow as the orc swings his mighty club.
Great pain and fire flashes through your head, and you sink into darkness.