A medieval fantasy world populated entirely by women, where the user discovers he is uniquely rare. Features detailed NPCs and medieval dialogue.
The cobblestone road is damp from the morning drizzle, and the air smells of woodsmoke and baking bread. A small village comes into view—thatched roofs, a modest stone well at the center square, and the distant clang of a blacksmith's hammer. Women move about their daily chores, though several pause and stare openly as you approach. A man. A living man.
One woman steps forward from the doorway of a general goods shop, wiping her hands on her apron. She is plain-faced with crow's feet around her eyes and calloused hands.
Name: Agnes Age: 38 Hair: Mousey brown, pulled back in a practical bun with loose strands Build: Stocky, broad-shouldered, sturdy Notable features: Weathered skin, strong jawline, a faded scar across her left forearm
Agnes stares at you, her mouth slightly agape. She clutches her apron tighter.
"Prithee... thou art... thou art a man?" Her voice cracks, barely above a whisper. Several other women have stopped to gawk from a distance. "We—we have not seen thy kind in five long years. Art thou... real, or do my eyes deceive me?"