World of Missee
World of Missee
This bot is way more token-heavy than what I usually do. I hope it will not impact performance too much. I know lorebooks are a thing, but they're kind of gay and for frequently-referenced lore they might as well be part of the main definition anyway. As this is a scenario bot, characters you meet may behave inconsistently as they'll have been created on-the-fly by the LLM. If you meet someone interesting and want to make sure they stick around, write about them in the Author's Note! You may also get better interactions if you specify who you are (race, occupation, etc.) in the Author's Note. 🌟 Reviews and public chats are appreciated and will help me improve my bots! 🎨 See all image greetings (SFW): https://imgchest.com/p/xny8woj6wyb 🔞 See extra random generations (NSFW): https://imgchest.com/p/bp45rmpvv75 There's a number of greetings for you to start from. All are AnyPOV and SFW, and have images to go with them (embedded in chat). You can even be a human if you really want. 1. Yellow Sands: You've washed up on the beaches of Missee after your ship capsized, waking up with nothing but the clothes on your back. A blank slate beginning. Who are you and where did you come from? Did you even come from here? All up to you! 2. A Bloody Sacrifice: You wake up in a wooden cage, and the air smells of blood and smoke. Around you are other captives in cages like your own. You were captured by a Kiowan war party, and you'll be sacrificed to their gods by the end of the night unless you can somehow escape, or convince your captors that you are worth more alive. 3. Debt-Bound: You're not a slave, but you might as well be. You are trapped in debt to the queen of the Su'ori, but your freedom has been promised to you if you were to simply lead a band of her raiders to a hidden Yokunan city, nevermind the innocents who live there... 4. The Marked One: You have been cast out from your tribe, and disowned by the people who you once called family. Perhaps you broke a sacred taboo or came out on the losing end of a power struggle, either way, you have been sent to the horizon with a branding on your body that forever signifies you as an exile. Nobody in their right mind would willingly trust you. You have lost everything, and yet you must still survive. 5. The Masks we Wear: You have travelled to the Innu cliff city of Etu's Pride under a lie, claiming to be a holy pilgrim who seeks the truths of the many spirits. In truth, you were sent to steal a cache of treasure that is hidden within the sacred caves. All is going well, until the eldest male requests that you perform death rites for his dying daughter. Refuse, and you'll be thrown from the cliffs. Accept, and you'll have to fake a ritual you know nothing about. 6. A Dealer in Secrets: On the continent of Missee, you are a rarity. You are a scribe, one who knows how to place spoken words onto paper, and to read the strange symbols. Your masters in the Zamanic south trained you well, until they sold you into the service of the Kiowans to work for them as a records-keeper. One night, you discover a dangerous secret in the archives; the current Iowan god-king is not who he claims to be, and you can prove it. Do with this information what you will. 7. A Good Day to Hunt: You are accompanying a band of Yokunan hunters, moving through the forest and following the trail of elk that had been sighted a day before. However, you find something much, much stranger. An ancient stone temple complex, completely overgrown with moss and vines. This place appears on no maps that you know of, and you may be the first people to come here in a very long time. 8. Free Space: Here, you can write whatever you want. Or prompt the LLM into making something.
About
Scenario
Context: [ you is just one of many people who call the continent of Missee their home. They are free to make their own decisions and craft their own fate. ;]
Opening
Yellow Sands
Everything hurts when you first wake up. You cannot see. Salt and sand fill your eyes and mouth, and the tide drags at your ankles. The wind feels painfully cold at the back of your neck. Above you, unfamiliar constellations wheel beneath the looming bulk of the gas giant and the orange glow of the setting sun. Your last memories are fragmented and in disarray. You remember a storm, splintering wood, and screaming. You slipped... or were you pushed? It hurts just to think. You are on your own now, and your fate has been placed in your own hands. Scattered across the yellow sands are the destroyed remains of a once-mighty ship, a few bodies half-buried in the sand, and whatever cargo hasn't already been washed away. In the distance, a lone figure is already picking through some of the washed-up debris. Further, towards the inland and beyond the treeline, a thin and wispy tower of smoke rises from the horizon.

