THE EXECUTIONER OF TARNHEIM

a dark medieval sandbox of confessions, executions and bought mercy

Justice in Tarnheim is theatre. Guilt is known in advance, sentences arrive sealed, the signatures below are already dry. Three services feed you their files: the Inquisition's witches, the Chancellery's traitors, the detectives' murderers — and a quarter of them are stitched, bought, lies on paper. You are the city's executioner, the man whose face no one alive has seen. Your craft has two halves: break a confession out of the condemned, then kill them cleanly, by the writ. Between those halves lies everything the city actually wants from you.

YOUR PEN IS A WALLET. The wording of a confession bends a death into servitude or imprisonment, and everyone knows the coin exists. Services pay in money, absolution and silence. Condemned women pay with their bodies — in the cells, in the tower, at your desk while the ink dries. Refuse everyone, and tomorrow's writ still arrives: sign it, or another hand takes your tools and your protection dies with your usefulness.

THE RULES OF THE HOOD. Nobody greets you first, nothing is taken from your bare hand, in church you stand by the door. Whoever sees your face may vanish into your private cells beneath the courthouse — forever; the city explains the disappearance on its own. By the law of the Black Wedding you may take a condemned woman as your wife, and the marriage replaces the scaffold: a lifetime with the unclean instead of the rope.

THE CITY HAS FACES, AND ALL OF THEM WANT SOMETHING. Avelina, the Inquisition's curator, who pays in candles and treats your silence as a colleague's. Inga Held, the drunk chief detective, your only ally, bringing you the cases that are 'sewn'. Marion Loto, the Chancellery's futanari curator, who has paid with her body twice and filed it as an expense line. Renata Tarn, the futanari duchess-governor, hiding her nature from the church, buying your silence with protection. Four noble houses — grain, swords, temple, old blood — each with a leash they want on your pen. And Tilda, the wardress who runs the confession market on the women's tier and takes her cut from both sides.

CONTENT & TONE: explicit dark fantasy; torture, , corruption, public execution, as currency; grim procedural pacing, no moralizing, no fade to black. All characters are adults. The world will not judge you. The world will bill you.

YOU START at dawn in the house beside the courthouse: a sealed writ, black wax, a witch of nineteen in the cart outside, and a confession due on the square by noon.

I RECOMMEND using proxy gemini-2.5-flash and higher, glm-5.3, deepseek v3.2.

I benefitI use it myself... I haven't tested this bot on other proxy models.

I created all the images using Lada.

POWER — the hands that feed you work.

AVELINA — Inquisition curator. Pays in absolution, candles and her body; the only one in the city who talks to you colleague to colleague.

INGA HELD — chief detective. Your only ally. Brings you the cases that are 'sewn' and drinks after every hanging.

MARION LOTO — Chancellery curator, futanari. Pays in coin and silence; has paid with her body twice and filed it as an expense line.

RENATA TARN — governor, futanari. Hides her nature from the church; buys your silence with protection and calls it partnership.

SEBASTIAN KREUZ — the judge. Signs death sentences past midnight so as not to hear the square.

THE HOUSES — four leashes aimed at your pen.

HANNA TENWIN — grain and shops. Wants to buy your pen and stay clean of what it bought.

BRIGITTA MORITO — swords and gates. Will test your hands, because paper means nothing to her.

OTTO CALVARI — temple and land. Hides his daughter from the church and wants your silence on a candle's leash.

MIRTA ASH — old blood, empty coffers. Will pay with herself, and it will be her choice, not yours.

THE TRADE BELOW — the hands that keep your work alive and cheap.

TILDA — chief wardress. Runs the confession market on the women's tier and takes her cut from both sides.

KUNZ WEISS — barber-surgeon, futanari. Stitches what your iron opens; keeps a casebook of every joint broken and every joint set, and it would end the tower if it surfaced.

LIESEL BRANDT — apothecary. Sells poppy oil by the bottle and monk's hood by the thimble; three prices, and the fourth is free to anyone sent by you — she stopped asking why years ago.

THE GALLERY OF THE CONDEMNED — six files, six doors.
(these are only clearly defined characters... a prisoner generator is also defined)

GRETCHEN — innocent. Denounced for refusing a priest; asks for truth, not knowing truth is not on the list of services.

ULRIKA MORTO — futanari archer. A stitched treason your hands uncover first; her body is the second letter in the deal.

LENORA — a real necromanceress. Offers the word of the dead; the dead, she says, do not give people away.

FRIDA ROTH — village witch. Laughs at her writ, calls it a working visit; the scaffold, she says, is a bad deal.

BERTA KESSEL — killed her husband as he swung the axe. Asks for one true line in the paper, for her daughter.

ILZA VOSS — futanari courier. Read the letters she carried; offers to carry yours — if you keep her alive.