NSFW | Excerpt & Branching | Classic Route | Night VI (Patreon)

Classic route is not as linear as Dark Maiden and Fated Mates, and will allow you to lean towards your preference between Serax and Valdricht. This happens across a series of scenes and, importantly, is not strictly tethered to dynamics, but rather hidden variables. Dynamics will define the type of relationship you have with each partner as the story progresses, however your overall closeness to each can also be subtly nudged. My hope is that sharing this excerpt from the upcoming chapter will help you to better understand how that can be orchestrated.

Night VI opens with a pretty significant prelude pivot point for your MC and Serax's relationship. As hinted at, or outright said in previous nights and across other routes, Serax's carnal appetites are much more voracious than Valdricht's and he often wakes craving a quick tryst. Some readers will find this endearing and want to lean into this behavior, which will lead to starting a lot of your chapters with quickies and even some bonus scenes where you can choose to school Serax on your own morning needs. Other players might find this aspect of Serax to be objectionable, but still want to have a close relationship with him. And other players may find this gross and inappropriate, and wish to set a firm boundary with Serax that the events of Night V were a one-time-thing.

Note, there is no option to fully excise Serax in Classic, rather this is how you define which type of storyline you want with him. If you adore Serax and want to lean into his lusts, you can do that. If you enjoy a push and pull relationship with him, you can have that. If you'd rather make him work to earn a spot in your heart and between your legs, that's also an option. These choices will color the events of the main story, while adding additional bonus scenes along the way.

And yes, Valdricht has his own chokepoints where you'll either lean in or develop a character who is more wary and guarded when it comes to him.

Putting this together was a bit more complicated than I initially anticipated, so I hope it's clear and not too clunky to read on Patreon. I've done my best to make reading the branches intuitive. We're going to start with our Accept Branch, which begins at the beginning of the chapter.

Notes: This excerpt contains NSFW. $name is the variable for your character's name, so when you see it, you can imagine your name being in its place. Whenever you see text [ Like this ] that's a choice you're seeing. If there are two choices, the one that isn't being chosen is stricken. Lastly, I've done a couple read-throughs of this but this is the first draft, meaning it still needs to go through editing and proofreading. The Wyransith is mostly correct, but should be considered provisional until I check it against my notes.

Context: Immediately following Night V where MC slept with Serax for the first time. MC just dreamed of being in the gardens with Miscilla and Annahera, as well as Shaelis's (dream POV character's canon name) chat with Anja, followed by a dream signifying the conception.

Accept Route

You cling desperately to the dream, but the shadows refuse to relinquish you. You can feel them all over you, pressing against your body, squeezing and grasping at you.

It isn't until one clutches your breast and groans into your ear that your eyes spring open.

A tan hand with black claws is massaging your bare breast, rolling your stiff nipple between calloused fingers.

"Serax," you say, before you've even fully oriented.

His voice has a strange, purr-like rumble to it.

"$name… Lift your leg."

As he speaks, he rolls his hips against you, his erect manhood pushing at the seam of your thighs.

Does he mean to…

[ Lift your leg. ] [ Demand he stops. ]

After so much time spent dreaming, it takes you a few seconds to remember the events of the night before, assuming it is already the moonday. It's hard to be sure. The soreness of your body would certainly indicate that not much time has passed.

You should push him away. The audacity of him to just start grabbing you as if it were his.

And yet, your legs part.

Somewhere in all of that groping, as he arrested you from the lovely dream, he's awakened a need within you. Your body, sore though it may be, is aching all over for his touch.

You arch your chest into his palm as he pushes between your legs. You both draw in hissing breaths as he presses against your opening.

He feels bigger this time, or perhaps you're somehow tighter. He has to rock against you several times before he fully begins to gain entry to your passage.

You feel every part of his thick, stiff length as he buries himself inside of you. He holds his breath until he hits the back of your passage, then all the air leaves him in a deep groan. Warm air clings to the side of your face as he speaks to you, but this time it is a strange, stilted language you feel certain isn't the same one he speaks with Valdricht. It's full of harsh consonants and guttural rasps. It's also… oddly familiar.

But you can't linger on it.

Serax moves in you in rough, uneven thrusts, and you revel in it--in him. There's something so captivating about the way he moves. You never know what to expect, which part of you he'll hit.

Through him, you learn that there is a difference in your own internal sensitivities. When he thrusts downwards it feels good, so long as he doesn't thrust too hard. That hurts. But also, not in a manner that is wholly objectionable. When he thrusts upwards and just right, he hits a part of you that makes you whimper.

You want to tell him to keep moving just so, but there is also a certain magic in the anticipation of him getting it just right.

When he hits the spot for the fourth time, you say his name in a breathless whine. At once, his hand clamps down on your mouth.

"Be silent," he says, his voice at once gruff and strained. "You're going to…"

Serax trails off as his body goes rigid for several seconds. Then a shudder runs through him. He clenches you to his chest so tightly that you fear he might snap you in two. Coupled with his hand still affixed to your mouth, you're rendered not only powerless, but voiceless as well.

You're contemplating biting the inside of his hand when his grip finally loosens.

Minutes pass without words, only the sound of panting filling the air. Although his hips no longer move, you can still feel his manhood periodically quivering within you. Your own body twitches as well, and you can't help but squirm impatiently as you wait for him to continue.

You're about to implore him when you realize that the vague shadow you've gazed unfocusedly at as Serax has taken you, it has a face.

Valdricht is lying beside you, covered in a black pelt. His head rests on a small pillow, gaze turned upward as if he were watching the stars.

A soft gasp escapes you, but you quickly attempt to recover.

"Good morning," you say haltingly, your face burning.

Was this… allowed?

Are there even rules to what the three of you are engaged in? How had you permitted yourself to be so carried away with Serax that you'd given no thought to Valdricht until now?

Serax nuzzles the side of your face, his own cheek strangely scratchy.

"Don't bother. He can't hear you."

You frown.

You feel certain that you can see the glint of his parted eyes, but the fire is low, compromising your visibility.

[ Is he sleeping? ]

"He's sleeping?" you ask.

"Something like that. Watch." His voice lifts. "Valdricht. Valdricht. $name is ready for you now. I've done you the courtesy of getting her warm and wet."

"Don't say that," you hiss, as you attempt to turn your head into the blankets.

Serax will not permit you to hide. He takes hold of your chin, strong fingers working your jaw as he switches to a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

"I daresay, I'm already well and truly satisfied with Serax's cock, but if you insist, milord."

You jerk your head to wrest free and do your best to sound cross. "Stop… that… you brute."

You are not laughing.

Your mortification passes quickly enough when you realize that Valdricht indeed has not reacted to any of the ridiculous things Serax said. You don't even think you've seen him blink.

You tuck your chin into your chest for fear he'll go grabbing it again, but this time Serax reaches beneath his makeshift pillow and pulls out…

"Is that a dagger?"

As if in answer, Serax flings the leather-handled blade directly at Valdricht's head.

Faster than you can blink, Valdricht's hand shoots up. He catches the dagger by its hilt just before the tip of the blade should have punctured the side of his face. Then he just… holds it there.

"It's surprisingly difficult to hurt him when he's like this," he says with a nonchalance that is at odds with what he just did. "Best you can do is bite him, but then you run the risk of him snapping your neck."

"I don't understand…"

You feel Serax roll his shoulders. "It's something that happens to old darksingers. They sort of fold into their memories sometimes. Physically he's here, but in his head he's probably a few centuries away."

"I see..."

Though in truth, it's difficult to fathom. You wonder if it's akin to how you are when you're lost in dreams that feel terribly real. Something about the way he lies, stock-still with the dagger in hand, unsettles you. As such, you're hardly amenable when Serax once more begins massaging your breast.

"We have a few minutes before he rouses. We can go again."

He flexes his hips for emphasis, but the hard length lodged within you has lost some of its appeal.

"I wasn't aware that we finished the first time," you say. "But it's no matter. I should like to clean myself."

Serax withdraws from you with a huff. You must have offended him, because he says, "Not every time we lay together will be a drawn-out affair, particularly in the mornings. I can't be expected to waste my strength before the day has even begun."

You have no idea what he means by all that. All you know is that there's still a hollow ache within you that has gone unfulfilled. More disappointing, the dream you'd so wished to cling to is already beginning to fade from your mind. You can only hope you'll be able to find it again when next you rest.

This is the end of the accept branch excerpt. A core part of the interpersonal conflict for players choosing a close relationship with Serax is teaching him how to be a more generous lover. It's great for players who want the experience of taming a man who's a bit of a barbarian in the bed furs. Choosing this route gives you a hidden variable which will unlock future morning trysts with Serax, though your player will still have the ability to refuse him if she isn't in the mood.

A note on dynamics, this scene has minor changes if your dynamic with Serax is Kindling oriented. For example, instead of saying "I wasn't aware that we finished the first time" your MC will say, "That's quite all right." Which is a gentler way of expressing her disappointment. Hopefully this helps you see the difference between dynamics and choice-driven narrative beats.

Soft Reject Branch

You cling desperately to the dream, but the shadows refuse to relinquish you. You can feel them all over you, pressing against your body, squeezing and grasping at you.

It isn't until one clutches your breast and groans into your ear that your eyes spring open.

A tan hand with black claws is massaging your bare breast, rolling your stiff nipple between calloused fingers.

"Serax," you say, before you've even fully oriented.

His voice has a strange, purr-like rumble to it.

"$name… Lift your leg."

As he speaks, he rolls his hips against you, his erect manhood pushing at the seam of your thighs.

Does he mean to…

[ Demand he stops. ] [ Lift your leg. ]

He means to put his manhood inside of me. Again…

You stiffen, making certain to clamp your thighs firmly shut before softly hissing, "What are you doing?"

Serax's response comes in a purr as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm cold."

Once more, his member presses against you, this time with more insistence.

Refusing to yield, you tell him, "Perhaps, then, your time would be best served feeding the fire."

He chuckles, as if you just made a joke, and then says in a thick voice, "I'd much rather be feeding you my cock."

His words only serve to further harden your resolve, even as something within you quivers.

Uncertain if it will even work, you whisper, "Please, stop."

To your immense relief, he does indeed go mostly still. Only his hand moves, his thumb drawing a lazy circle in the sensitive skin of your thigh, which is oddly comforting despite the situation.

"Are you in pain?" he asks. "From last night?"

Something about the second part of his question makes you bristle. "Must I justify myself to you?"

You regret the words almost at once. He did as you bade him, so why did you respond as such? Why is your face hot? Why does your body suddenly feel foreign to you, as on the night you first woke?

Serax lets out a long sigh and then rolls onto his back. After a few seconds, likely spent cobbling together his response, he says, "Must I remain in ignorance as to why you gaily accepted me in the night, but behave as if I seek to torture you upon the moonrise? Our arrangement could benefit from some clarity."

Last night was…

[ Confusing. ] [ A mistake. ]

"If you're confused, just imagine how I must feel," you tell him. "Before, when you spoke of the possibility that we might… I thought you were jesting. I never imagined we would actually… And last night, I didn't ask for that. I simply went along with it."

Perhaps you aren't giving yourself quite enough credit, but now that you're no longer swept up in the moment, you must find a way to order the insanity of it in your mind.

"And now you regret it?"

"I don't know."

You let your answer hang in the air for a moment, knowing full well that it is insufficient. Then, you steel yourself and roll over to face him. Serax lies on his back, the top of his bare, muscular chest exposed as he stares at the ceiling of the tent.

"Could you give me some time?" you ask. "A day or two to think. Everything has happened so fast."

His gaze flicks to you, one of his eyes twitching. "You did like it, didn't you?"

For all his cockiness, he sounds genuinely uncertain now, and despite your shame, you can't help but seek to reassure him with a small nod.

It's all the confirmation he seems to need. His face slants with a grin, before he says, "Then I will wait for you to make your peace with it."

"Make my peace with it?"

"With being my woman."

You can't help but snort. "Who said anything about being your woman?"

"You did, last night, when you clung to me, begging for me not to stop."

Your mouth falls open. "I did no such thing, and I am not your woman."

His grin widens. "I've seen what you do for men to whom you don't belong, so now I must endeavor to make you mine."

Your hand is itching to smack him when a muffled voice from behind you says, "Ywen eri'na sairel."

You tense, but almost immediately calm, recognizing Valdricht's voice. Rolling onto your belly, you prop yourself up onto your elbows in time to see Valdricht push off the black pelt he'd been sleeping under. His hair is unusually unkempt, with strands sticking up in different directions. He blows out a puff of air to dispel a lock of hair stuck to his lips.

"Good morning," you tell him, and you realize you aren't entirely calm. There's a flutter of apprehension in your chest as you wait to see how Valdricht will regard you. When his cool gaze drifts up to meet yours, you fully soften.

"Good morning," he replies.

Serax is quick to interject. He informs you, "You did not wish me a good morning."

You purse your lips. "Nor you, me. I was having a lovely dream before you woke me with your… uncouth behavior."

"We could both be having a better morning if you had acquiesced," Serax counters.

"Ywen nei thyn'sal sairel thy krelethys vel tharran," Valdricht says.

Whatever Valdricht just said, it makes Serax's eyes light up. "Ywen eri'thal sairel eri krelethys vel tharran," he replies, in kind.

Valdricht's eyes narrow, though thankfully not on you. When he turns to address Serax, his tone is sharp. "Talven eri thy'sal korthal gaethir, nei tharyn sairel."

Serax's expression hardens. "Ywen korthal nei sairel." Then, he looks away and lets out a small laugh. "Ywen morven syvrel sairel."

You can't make heads or tails of what they're saying and it's rather frustrating.

This is our soft reject branch, which boils down to your MC not fully rejecting him, but rather expressing that she's conflicted with the nature of their relationship. This is a very reasonable middle ground for players who want a character who is more reluctant to dive headfirst into a menage relationship. It allows her to give pushback, while still keeping a playful energy between the pair. Importantly, Serax will not attempt to initiate morning sex with your MC again unless and until you give him the green light in a future interaction.

Reject Branch

You cling desperately to the dream, but the shadows refuse to relinquish you. You can feel them all over you, pressing against your body, squeezing and grasping at you.

It isn't until one clutches your breast and groans into your ear that your eyes spring open.

A tan hand with black claws is massaging your bare breast, rolling your stiff nipple between calloused fingers.

"Serax," you say, before you've even fully oriented.

His voice has a strange, purr-like rumble to it.

"$name… Lift your leg."

As he speaks, he rolls his hips against you, his erect manhood pushing at the seam of your thighs.

Does he mean to…

[ Demand he stops. ] [ Lift your leg. ]

He means to put his manhood inside of me. Again…

You stiffen, making certain to clamp your thighs firmly shut before softly hissing, "What are you doing?"

Serax's response comes in a purr as he nuzzles the top of your head. "I'm cold."

Once more, his member presses against you, this time with more insistence.

Refusing to yield, you tell him, "Perhaps your time would be best served feeding the fire."

He chuckles, as if you just made a joke, and then says in a thick voice, "I'd much rather be feeding you my cock."

His words only serve to further harden your resolve, even as something within you quivers. Not for the first time, you're aware of how much bigger and stronger Serax is than you. If you want to stop him, words are your only defense, and utterly reliant upon his own charity.

What a dreadful situation you've gotten yourself into, you tell yourself.

Uncertain if it will even work, you whisper, "Please, stop."

To your immense relief, he does indeed go mostly still. Only his hand moves, his thumb drawing a lazy circle in the sensitive skin of your thigh, which is oddly comforting despite the situation.

"Are you in pain?" he asks. "From last night?"

Something about the second part of his question makes you bristle. "Must I justify myself to you?"

You regret the words almost at once. He did as you bade him, so why did you respond as such? Why is your face hot? Why does your body suddenly feel foreign to you, as on the night you first woke?

Serax lets out a long sigh and then rolls onto his back. After a few seconds, likely spent cobbling together his response, he says, "Must I remain in ignorance as to why you gaily accepted me in the night, but behave as if I seek to torture you upon the moonrise? Our arrangement could benefit from some clarity."

Last night was…

[ A mistake. ] [ Confusing. ]

"What happened last night, it was a mistake," you tell him.

You hold your breath waiting for his response, but in the end you must let it out, as Serax takes his time.

Finally, he asks, "What does that mean?"

Now it's you who's scrambling for words. "It means… Haven't you ever done something that felt good in the moment, but you knew it was wrong? That's what last night was, for…"

You trail off as an image flashes across your mind. You see words on a page, scrawled in indigo ink, and a depiction of a hulking brute of a man, pinning down a lithe woman with full breasts. You feel a hand, your own, creeping downward to slip beneath your skirts.

Then you blink, and the image is gone, your hands are both in front of you, balled into small fists. Even so, you can still smell the lingering scents of parchment and melting wax in the air.

"What was wrong about it?" Serax asks.

The sudden image was so jarring that you briefly forget what it was you were discussing.

"About what?"

He speaks slowly, a slight edge to his words. "How is it that you know what we did was wrong?"

You lift your shoulders. "I don't know, it's just… Well, it isn't the sort of thing decent folks do, no?"

"And laying with Valdricht out of wedlock? Surely decent women don't do such things."

You squeeze your eyes shut. "Perhaps not."

"And yet, I question whether you would push him away."

You're spared from a response by the wall of dark fur in front of you.

"Clearly you have ascertained by now that it is you that she finds objectionable," comes Valdricht's cool voice. "Now cease bothering her."

He draws back the pelt as he speaks, revealing a pale visage with unusually disheveled hair. Valdricht runs a hand over his face, but it does nothing to dispel his fatigued affect.

"That isn't…" you start, but you aren't sure where to go. What Valdricht said was harsh, but also true, to an extent. At least, you think. It's all so confusing.

"You need not explain yourself," Valdricht says, pausing to yawn and stretch before continuing. "If sharing yourself with him is not to your liking, then there is no obligation. It will not happen again."

Somehow, Valdricht deciding that for you isn't to your liking either, but you don't argue. After all, your agreement was that the two of you would be lovers. Serax was never supposed to be part of that equation. The fact that you laid with him at all is so outlandish that it makes you question your own sanity.

As if that needed further interrogation.

"As you say," Serax mutters. You hear a rustle of the pelts as he moves to sit up.

Valdricht hums an acknowledgement, and then stretches an arm across you before pulling you to himself. You roll as he does so, until your back is against his chest. You then, most unexpectedly, find yourself staring at Serax just as he rises, his stiff manhood jutting out in front of him.

"Go and fetch water," Valdricht says, his voice muffled against your hair. "I wish to bathe."

"As you say," Serax says again, this time with even less sincerity.

You want to hide beneath Valdricht's bed furs, anything to shield you from Serax's gaze, but he never looks your way. Before long, you find yourself openly watching him as he dresses, your eyes taking in the contours of his body. Liquid pools, both in your mouth and between your thighs.

It's impossible not to think about how he touched you last night. How it felt when that thick organ of his was buried within you. It hadn't felt wrong then. But it was a mistake.

You know it was.

So why does it feel as if you've just made another?

This path is for readers whose character isn't yet sold on Serax. If you want Serax to earn your MC's affection and access to her body, this branch will give you that storyline. Serax is a bit petulant here, which may grate against modern sensibilities. It's important to keep in mind that he's feeling a very intense pull towards the MC, both emotionally and physically in this route, and is internally struggling a great deal, especially as he watches the MC repeatedly yield to Valdricht. I don't want to sanitize that too much.

You'll also start seeing shades of this same push and pull with Valdricht, both later in this chapter and in the next, though his will have (slightly) less to do with sex and more to do with control. I hope you like the options available.

Hope this wasn't too difficult to read through, it's just a small piece of Night VI, which will be available for Darksingers and Duskweavers on Monday, September 7th, and then on Itch on Monday, September 14th. I didn't do an alternate POV this week because I opted instead to preemptively code and playtest the first half of Night VI. It has a lot of branches and I didn't want to wait until the end to start untangling them. That said, there will be an alternative POV chapter next week.

P.S., here is almost all the vocab you need to decipher the Wyransith convo ;)

ywen — she

eri'na — my (affectionate)

sairel — is (3rd singular)

nei — not

thyn'sal — yours

thy — you

krelethys — you fuck (2nd singular of kreleth)

vel — like/as

tharran — I want

eri'thal — ours

eri — I

talven — if

korthal — boots

gaethir — to allow/permit

tharyn — yours (formal)

morven — more

syvrel — comely/beautiful

-Mortish