Jormungandr Goes To Hell - WE'RE IN HELL

THE ADVENTURE STARTS HERE

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You are Princess Lisa Jormungandr; Ruler of the mighty Principality of Jormungandr. You wake up in your palatial bedroom with a sense of foreboding not really conveyed by this picture. You are more than averagely certain that for some reason beyond the sphere of your comprehension you are trapped. A prisoner within your own opulent boudoir. But then again that's Monday mornings for you.

What do you do?

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retrieve arms from drawers.

You already have incredibly poorly drawn arms you half crazed visigoth!

> Try and open the door, just in case.

> Open the door.

Try both pushing and pulling the door.

You try the door and it turns out you were right. Not that there's much satisfaction to be gleaned from being correct in this instance. The door refuses to budge both when pushed and pulled, this is one truly stuck door.

examine portrait

You take a moment to fondly regard your portrait of your dear old Uncle Billy and ponder what he might have done in a situation like this... After a moment you come to a conclusion, you're not sure exactly what he would do but it almost certainly would involve a death ray and shooting it at the door. Unfortunately you find yourself lacking in both death and rays.

---

Start at the upper left corner of the screen, and click rapidly, gradually moving the cursor back and forth, as well as slightly down. Do this until you have identified every interactable object onscreen.

Although you initially dismissed this idea as far too much effort you have come to the conclusion that desperate times call for desperate measures. You examine the room in great depth and have almost give up hope of making any kind of discovery when you spot a key fallen down a crack behind your bed. You reach in and grab this shining beacon of hope.



Oh no, it's just an alarmingly large ball of fluff... Nevermind.

> Wait for someone to rescue you.

This strikes you as the best idea ever. Surely within mere minutes your well-trained phalanx of guard squid will be here to rescue you from this uncooperative door.



Erm... any minute now?



You make a mental note to give your well-trained phalanx of guard squid a good talking to just as soon as you manage to abscond from your bedroom.

>Look around at the rest of the room for possible exits

This is more like it. You have a good feeling about this side of the room. You are almost certain that hidden amongst these seemingly innocuous possessions is the key to your escape. And also that whoever decorated this room really liked candelabras.

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>Identify that giant capsule-looking thing on the left

You take a closer look at your private Cloning Vat. You're a beginner level Cloner... Clonist... Clonator? Whatever the descriptive noun you're a beginner level at it. You can't do any of the fancy stuff but given a sample of DNA you can clone someone in a matter of hours.

Retrieve armaments from drawers.

You doubt it'll be armaments but you might as well check what's in your dresser drawers. There's some candelabras... a spoon... and some vibr-



-personal things. You decide to leave your personal things in the drawers.

---

Also, wonder why you are so painfully shy when there is no one else in the room.

>Wonder why you are named for a giant fucking snake.

You figure it's probably the fault of your bitter twisted dear old mum; Queen Ragnarok. That wrinkled old hag was always standing in silhouette and telling you about how God punished those who thought inappropriate thoughts. In alarmingly graphic detail... And she gave you this awful name. What a bitch! Then again on second thoughts she probably wasn't as bad as all that...



That's probably more accurate.

> Take that blue thing from atop the cupboard.

Despite your poorly drawn arms not being a constitent legnth from one drawing to the next it seems that Rhiny, your cuddly toy of a common cold virus, is abitrarily too high for you to reach.

>Pluck one of your own hairs, and clone yourself.

Now you're cooking with gas. You pluck your favourite hair and head vatwards to begin the cloning process.



Unfortunately the DNA insertion slot is not really compatible with hair. It looks like you're going to have to do this the old fashioned way...



You click your favourite hair back into place and get down to business.

> Combine syringe with poorly drawn arms.

You insert your blood sample into the cloning vat and after a couple of seconds of frantic whirring and rumbling the DNA acquired light flicks to green. Now all you have to do is wait a couple of hours and you'll be twice as trapped in this room as you are at the moment.



You take a second to pause and feel good about yourself. Although you aren't sure how a clone is going to help get you out of this mess you feel you've taken a definate step forwards. You are interrupted from your self-congratulating reverie by the rasping sound of a throat being cleared.

Equip a Candelabra as a weapon in case your captors come here to check on you.

You grab the nearest candelabra and wield it in a manner that can only be described as dramatic.



Across the room you can see some thing. A monster with a claw for a head. You grip the candelabra tightly and prepare to aggress this monstrosity. "Come now." It says. "There's no need for that. I just thought we could have a little conversation..."

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>Rush him

You quickly consider your options. On the one hand you could hear him out and then respond with violence if appropriate, or on the other hand you could throw caution to the wind and just attack this creature who is an unknown quantity in both allegiance and strength...



You come to the conclusion that you should probably launch a surprise attack while you have an opportunity. You lunge at the creature, candelabra raised but before you can even land a blow something slashes at your face.



You drop your candelabra in the toussle and stumble backwards. Your face throbs with pain and you tentatively feel at it. You can feel deep gashes across your face. Great. Now you're scarred for life.

>"Get out of here... or I'll... I'll hit you and um... Clone you!"

You're not going to win a fight against this thing but you don't want it to know that. "Get out of here... or I'll... I'll hit you and um... clone you!" You threaten feebly.



"I apologise." the creature responds. "I did not come here to harm you. I assure you that was strictly involuntary." The creature paused. "Look we've gotten off to a bad start here. I'm Tchort. I'm here to help you." You can't help but feel somewhat skeptical as your stylish new face wounds throb with pain. "The other Principalities; Hel and Fenrir. They're launching an assault on your kingdom. That's why you're stuck in here. They've paid off one of your staff to keep you trapped so you can't fight back. I know I'm a demon and everything but there is such a thing as sportsmanship. I'm here to offer my help getting you out of here and getting some revenge." he paused. "That is providing you want my help." Tchort glanced around the room, his eyes skimming off a multitude of candelabras and the cloning vat gently humming to itself. "I think you could use it." he added.

---

> "Alright. Open the door for me."

"Alright. Open the door for me." You say cautiously. Behind Tchort the door slides open in a somewhat jerky manner.

>Offer him a candelabra as payment.

"Wow." You say stunned. "...I didn't actually think you would be able to do it." You confess gushing with excitement. "Here. Have a candelabra for your trouble." You grin manically. "It's the best one. The floor one. You've more than earned it."
"Firstly the singular of candelabra is candelabrum so technically you're offering me a candelabrum rather than a candelabra." Tchort replied. "And secondly I will be taking payment but not in the form of a candelabrum."



"I will instead be taking your soul." Tchort continued. The room faded to black around him.



"Wait, what?" you cry. "I never agreed to this!"
"You made a deal with the devil, well a demon but you get the idea." said Tchort. "When you make a deal with us your soul is always on the line. That's just how we do business."



"I didn't even know I was making a deal." You protest.
"Doesn't matter." Tchort continued. "We now own your soul and with it your kingdom." Tchort paused for a second. "The boss is going to be so psyched when she finds out!" he blurted out giddily.
Everything fades to black