As always, a huge thanks to everyone who has read this! Don’t hesitate to reply with bugs, suggestions, or constructive criticism! (:
EDIT: Okay, so for some reason the scene file override wasn’t working last night, but I fixed it just now. You should be able to play the newest chapter.
EDIT 2: Annnnd it’s back to being stuck at chapter 2.3. I don’t know what is wrong, because both myself and randomtest can find nothing off about the code. So, in order to share chapter 2.4, I am going to copy-and-paste it here and you can use https://choicescriptide.github.io/legacy/ide/main.html to view/read it. I’ll only post the athleticism path and you can substitute variables yourself because I don’t want to overwhelm the forum thread or look like I’m spamming.
Copy this into scenes
[b]Chapter 2.4: The Ascent - Final Obstacle[/b]
*if athlete
Contrary to what one may have expected, your forces are not disheartened by the loss of their lord. They seem to, in fact, have become even more determined. The night air is charged with the sort of energy that can only be instilled by a marching army. You feel it, and cannot help but be rallied by the infectious fervor. At your sides, Non'Caesura and Archidamia lead in steely silence. Instead of continuing in split groups, the daughters of Amerdale have wordlessly agreed to advance in a single, great formation.
The nameless, collective exhilaration that inspired each and every man and woman to follow a new face becomes a kind of delirium as your party continues the ascent to the peak of Spire Hill. It numbs the sense and leaves only a hazy, animal instinct. A wise man would call this feeling purpose. A wiser man would call it acquiescence. And the wisest of all men would call it fate. Something formless and intangible that is beyond the ability (and indeed, the right) of humankind to fathom.
Such a miasma carried all of you to Capital Village.
*goto 24a1
*if brainiac
Contrary to what one may have expected, your forces are not disheartened by the loss of their lord. They seem to, in fact, have become even more determined. The night air is charged with the sort of energy that can only be instilled by a marching army. You feel it, and cannot help but be rallied by the infectious fervor. At your side, Non'Caesura and Wiley walk in steely silence. Instead of continuing in split groups, the daughters of Amerdale have wordlessly agreed to advance in a single, great formation.
The nameless, collective exhilaration that inspired each and every man and woman to follow a new face becomes a kind of delirium as your party continues the ascent to the peak of Spire Hill. It numbs the sense and leaves only a hazy, animal instinct. A wise man would call this feeling purpose. A wiser man would call it acquiescence. And the wisest of all men would call it fate. Something formless and intangible that is beyond the ability (and indeed, the right) of humankind to fathom.
Such a miasma carried all of you to Capital Village.
*goto 24b1
*if charmer
The night air is charged with the sort of energy that can only be instilled by a prisoner's trail. You feel it, and cannot help but be disquieted by the infectious fervor. At your side, Non'Caesura and Sulo walk in silence.
The nameless, collective exhilaration that haunts this type of certain-folly becomes a kind of delirium as your party continues the ascent to the peak of Spire Hill. It numbs the sense and leaves only a hazy, animal instinct. A wise man would call this feeling purpose. A wiser man would call it acquiescence. And the wisest of all men would call it fate. Something formless and intangible that is beyond the ability (and indeed, the right) of humankind to fathom.
Such a miasma carried all of you, comrades and escort, to Capital Village.
*goto 24c1
*if skilled
Contrary to what one may have expected, your forces are not disheartened by the loss of their lord. They seem to, in fact, have become even more determined. The night air is charged with the sort of energy that can only be instilled by a marching army. You feel it, and cannot help but be rallied by the infectious fervor. At your sides, Non'Caesura and Fabricia walk in steely silence. Instead of continuing in split groups, the daughters of Amerdale have wordlessly agreed to advance in a single, great formation.
The nameless, collective exhilaration that inspired each and every man and woman to follow a new face becomes a kind of delirium as your party continues the ascent to the peak of Spire Hill. It numbs the sense and leaves only a hazy, animal instinct. A wise man would call this feeling purpose. A wiser man would call it acquiescence. And the wisest of all men would call it fate. Something formless and intangible that is beyond the ability (and indeed, the right) of humankind to fathom.
Such a miasma carried all of you to Capital Village.
*goto 24s1
*label 24a1
*page_break
The place proper is not so grand. One could barely call it a city. Perhaps a score or two of stone buildings, stone fences, and stone streets constituted its entirety. These were all built well, with a deliberate nature to their construction and location. Each was plainly decorated, if at all, and no one dwelling or business held any particularly evident importance over the others. The whole of the plateau atop Spire Hill was fashioned this way as far as one could see in all directions, except in the middle, where a great earthen mound supported the smooth rocks of the walls of the Keep.
The Keep itself is enormous, at least as far as you can tell from the road, though this may be an illusion of your perspective. A massive portcullis shields the inner courtyard from the village's general rabble. Inside the rectangular structure, you can imagine that simple wooden houses have been constructed to serve as the general shelter for those involved in the regular maintenance of such a space. If not that, then some sort of corridors and rooms built into the walls themselves and the towers at each corner.
Most surprisingly, or suspiciously, is the complete desertion of the place. For a capital, it seems awfully barren of the important people doing the important things that you assume are done in capitals. There don't even seem to be any unimportant people around.
*goto 24a2
*label 24b1
*page_break
The place proper is not so grand. One could barely call it a city. Perhaps a score or two of stone buildings, stone fences, and stone streets constituted its entirety. These were all built well, with a deliberate nature to their construction and location. Each was plainly decorated, if at all, and no one dwelling or business held any particularly evident importance over the others. The whole of the plateau atop Spire Hill was fashioned this way as far as one could see in all directions, except in the middle, where a great earthen mound supported the smooth rocks of the walls of the Keep.
The Keep itself is enormous, at least as far as you can tell from the road, though this may be an illusion of your perspective. A massive portcullis shields the inner courtyard from the village's general rabble. Inside the rectangular structure, you can imagine that simple wooden houses have been constructed to serve as the general shelter for those involved in the regular maintenance of such a space. If not that, then some sort of corridors and rooms built into the walls themselves and the towers at each corner.
Most surprisingly, or suspiciously, is the complete desertion of the place. For a capital, it seems awfully barren of the important people doing the important things that you assume are done in capitals. There don't even seem to be any unimportant people around.
*goto 24b2
*label 24c1
*page_break
The place proper is not so grand. One could barely call it a city. Perhaps a score or two of stone buildings, stone fences, and stone streets constituted its entirety. These were all built well, with a deliberate nature to their construction and location. Each was plainly decorated, if at all, and no one dwelling or business held any particularly evident importance over the others. The whole of the plateau atop Spire Hill was fashioned this way as far as one could see in all directions, except in the middle, where a great earthen mound supported the smooth rocks of the walls of the Keep.
The Keep itself is enormous, at least as far as you can tell from the road, though this may be an illusion of your perspective. A massive portcullis shields the inner courtyard from the village's general rabble. Inside the rectangular structure, you can imagine that simple wooden houses have been constructed to serve as the general shelter for those involved in the regular maintenance of such a space. If not that, then some sort of corridors and rooms built into the walls themselves and the towers at each corner.
Most surprisingly, or suspiciously, is the complete desertion of the place. For a capital, it seems awfully barren of the important people doing the important things that you assume are done in capitals. There don't even seem to be any unimportant people around.
*goto 24c2
*label 24s1
*page_break
The place proper is not so grand. One could barely call it a city. Perhaps a score or two of stone buildings, stone fences, and stone streets constituted its entirety. These were all built well, with a deliberate nature to their construction and location. Each was plainly decorated, if at all, and no one dwelling or business held any particularly evident importance over the others. The whole of the plateau atop Spire Hill was fashioned this way as far as one could see in all directions, except in the middle, where a great earthen mound supported the smooth rocks of the walls of the Keep.
The Keep itself is enormous, at least as far as you can tell from the road, though this may be an illusion of your perspective. A massive portcullis shields the inner courtyard from the village's general rabble. Inside the rectangular structure, you can imagine that simple wooden houses have been constructed to serve as the general shelter for those involved in the regular maintenance of such a space. If not that, then some sort of corridors and rooms built into the walls themselves and the towers at each corner.
Most surprisingly, or suspiciously, is the complete desertion of the place. For a capital, it seems awfully barren of the important people doing the important things that you assume are done in capitals. There don't even seem to be any unimportant people around.
*goto 24s2
*label 24a2
*page_break
And then, suddenly, without announcement, the massive gate of Spire Keep begins to raise. A few surprised, curious, and weary breaths can be heard from those around you. Then, the raw anticipation of the moment fades into confusion. Without any specific inflection or direction, Non'Caesura wonders: "What ever do we do now?"
As if in answer to his obvious question, or perhaps in defiance of its banality, Archidamia begins to walk forward with the pace of someone that knows where they are meant to be. Some of the soldiers and her sisters move or reach forward as if to stop her, because it is not lost on them that the way may be trapped, but they do not go after her. Such an act could not be met with something so ordinary and dull as failure. This they believed with all their subconscious beings. The boldness of her approach warranted something extraordinary, something fantastical, so that the unexpected would be rightly rewarded by destiny with a response worthy of this one woman's defiance of sensibility.
And it was, in a way. She walked straight up with her army and yourself close behind into the Keep, which looks for all the world in the moonlight like a fairy beast, waiting with open maw to snatch and eat anything that wandered too close.
*goto 24end
*label 24b2
*page_break
And then, suddenly, without announcement, the massive gate of Spire Keep begins to raise. A few surprised, curious, and weary breaths can be heard from those around you. Then, the raw anticipation of the moment fades into confusion. Without any specific inflection or direction, Non'Caesura wonders: "What ever do we do now?"
"W-w-w-well we c-can't just st-stay here.... Right?" Wiley both answered and questioned no one in particular.
"I cannot find fault in your reasoning, Strategist, nor resist the pull of fate that seems to call me," Lady Argentum decides. "We will advance with caution, ready for ambush."
"Mmm..." Ser Ferrum nods while unsheathing her sword like the rest of the group.
You walk straight up with the army into the Keep, which looks for all the world in the moonlight like a fairy beast, waiting with open maw to snatch and eat anything that wandered too close.
*goto 24end
*label 24c2
*page_break
And then, suddenly, without announcement, the massive gate of Spire Keep begins to raise. A few surprised, curious, and weary breaths can be heard from those around you. Then, the raw anticipation of the moment fades into confusion. Without any specific inflection or direction, Non'Caesura wonders to himself: "What ever do we do now?"
"Well, I'd say we follow them into the Keep. Gates are usually raised to allow things inside, after all!" Sulo answers cheerfully.
"Move," a guard urges.
You walk straight up into the Keep, which looks for all the world in the moonlight like a fairy beast, waiting with open maw to snatch and eat anything that wandered too close.
*goto 24end
*label 24s2
*page_break
And then, suddenly, without announcement, the massive gate of Spire Keep begins to raise. A few surprised, curious, and weary breaths can be heard from those around you. Then, the raw anticipation of the moment fades into confusion. Without any specific inflection or direction, Non'Caesura wonders: "What ever do we do now?"
"Probably, like, go inside, right?" Fabricia both answers and questions no one in particular.
"I cannot find fault in your reasoning nor resist the pull of fate that seems to call me," Lady Argentum decides. "We will advance with caution, ready for ambush."
"Mmm..." Ser Ferrum nods while unsheathing her sword like the rest of the group.
You walk straight up with the army into the Keep, which looks for all the world in the moonlight like a fairy beast, waiting with open maw to snatch and eat anything that wandered too close.
*goto 24end
*label 24end
*page_break
Inside, a welcoming party awaits your arrival. A collection of thirty or so armored guards stand in formation in front of a wide, smokeless forge. In front of them, two men stand shoulder-to-shoulder with arms linked at the elbow. They are twins in everything superficial, and wear the same otherworldly metal masks as the others of their nation you have encountered, as well as the woollen costume typical of those whose job it is to scrutinize and administrate. The two are clad in a deep blue, accented at the joints with polished metal sewn into their garments.
The left one speaks in the placating manner of a bureaucrat, with an unmistakeable undertone of sarcasm: "How can me and my husband assist you?"
*page_break
[b]Chapter 2.5: The Ascent - The Apex[/b]
To be written! (:
*finish
EDIT 3: Hopefully the final edit before I get the next chapter or two up, but I just discovered that the link works fine on mobile, but not on desktop. I have no idea why this is, but if you are having issues viewing the newest chapters, then you might be able to read them by switching to a mobile platform. Sorry for the hassle! ¯\_ (.⌒.)_/¯
