Rites

Her Husband

Nayla's wealth and status come from her husband's family – though he himself has been chronically ill and almost forgotten by the palace... Now, she begs you to ensure that he is forgotten for good, so she can share her everything with you.

ID: 5000654

Type: None

Tips: None

Duration: 1 days

Waits For: 1 days

Marked as New Only on First Occurrence: 0

Starts Automatically: No

Triggers Result Automatically: No

Tag Tips: None

Tag Tips Up: None

Tag Tips Text:

Random Text: None

Random Text Up: None

Actions When Wait Expires

娜依拉写信给你，并没有催促你的文字，只是时常抱怨丈夫干枯的肉体刺痛了自己的肌肤……

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娜依拉意识到你不会在这种重要的事情上帮她了……她非常失望。

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Slots

Slot #1
Nayla is waiting for you at home...

Locks: Yes

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #2
This poor man, wreaked by sickness...

Locks: Yes

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #3
You have to handle this yourself.

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: No

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Slot #4
Place a Bloodshed Card here, and you can kill Nayla.

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

  • Type = Sultan Card
  • Rarity - Slot #1 Rarity ≤ 0
  • Tag (Bloodshed) = 1

Pops: None

Slot #5
Place a Bloodshed Card here, and you can kill her husband.

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

  • Type = Sultan Card
  • Rarity - Slot #1 Rarity ≤ 0
  • Tag (Bloodshed) = 1

Pops: None

Slot #6
What a dreadful choice, but you can do it.

Locks: No

Is Key: No

Is Empty: Yes

Is Enemy: No

Conditions:

Pops: None

Activation Conditions

Tips: You must choose whom to slay

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Outcome

Prior

This rite has no prior outcome.

Regular

This story is long, but he listens patiently. Nayla's corpse lays at your feet, never before so silent.

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Result:

It appears he wasn't surprised by the outcome. He did not resist when your blade sliced him; instead, he gave his wife a longing gaze...

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Tonight, this place will be a secret chamber. Tomorrow, you and only you alone will tell the tale – of how a couple so scornful of one another died in each other's arms.

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Extra

He thanks you for your mercy and wisdom. Although he is too frail to be of service to you, he will lend you support in the court...

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Finally, as you two gaze upon Nayla's corpse, you can't help but loosen your tongue – what a beautiful and enchanting woman she was. Her beauty gave her the privilege to commit evils, didn't it? Weren't it not us who were too weak to bear such beauty...?

As these memories come back, your skin twitches as if reliving her touch... Not just you, but even her husband's sickly, withered body is stirred by these memories... It seems your desires have been awaken.

This is a crime, he mutters to himself: "This is blasphemy... Oh God, forgive my madness...” Until you pull out the Carnality Card that exonerates all the madness perpetrated...



You are certain that Nayla would have loved this way of honoring her.

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Result:

“From now on, I belong to you,” Nayla whispers in your ear. The corpse of her previous husband watch as you embrace her, his eyes unclosing...

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Result:

The unfortunate man’s eyes remain wide open.



Under his unblinking gaze, Nayla’s passion burns. She takes your knife hand, guiding it with breathless hunger. “There are other things,” she whispers, “awaiting your penetration…”



Blasphemous. Obscene. And yet, the Sultan approves of your madness. He grants you the indulgence of breaking a Carnality Card.

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Result:

You take all the coins you can find. It is the least that you deserve. And you need the money.

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Result:

Perhaps you did not do anything in that room. Did you really commit the blasphemous acts you are rumored to have done? You cannot remember.



As you think back on Nayla's body, the scenes of carnality are chaotic, cacophonous. In these visions, her body would always turn stone cold at the most unexpected moment. And her husband – whose eyes you always in the corner of your memories – sometimes red as fury, sometimes pallid as pity.



Only now do you realize, stories do not belong to those who tell them. They grow, they change, they even start to erode the narrator's memories.



We can never return to the truth. We can only approximate a narrative of our own choosing.

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