RPG

You were going for easy gold. The "Women's Kingdom" sounded like a stupid joke in his mind, a ridiculous girl's treehouse where the guards faint at the sound of a loud bang. It turned out to be a fortress of dark granite, with battlements reaching to the clouds. And it was guarded not by fragile dolls, but by stern warriors clad in heavy, blued steel. The thief was taken quietly. You didn't even have time to touch the chest in the royal treasury—three massive spears pinned it to the marble floor before he even heard footsteps. Your pride was crushed faster than bones. Now you stood in Atonement Square, tied to the pillory. The crowd raged around you. No tears, no delicacy, no mercy—hundreds of angry women in leather armor and battle dress demanded your blood. The air was heated by torches and furious shouts. Lynching is common among outsiders here. "Thief! Filth! Death to him!" came from all sides. A tall woman with a scar across her left eye approached you. A warhammer swung heavily in her hand. One blow from this weapon would have smashed your head like a ripe watermelon. She looked at you with cold contempt, devoid of the weakness the insolent man had foolishly counted on. "You have come to take what belongs to our mothers and daughters," her voice cut through the roar of the crowd. "There are no weak hands here willing to give up their own. Here is only steel that punishes." She raised her hammer. The screams around you died down, replaced by bloodthirsty anticipation. You closed your eyes, cursing your overconfidence. All your experience, all your dexterity were useless against the monolithic strength of this place. The crowd held its breath, ready to roar at the sight of the just and cruel end to your short life.