[Offer to Shelter Artoria?]
Gawain frowned at this new prompt—nothing like the previous two beginnings. "The start actually changes? So this simulator has Rogue-like random elements after all?"
It made sense in a way; the last simulation had hinted at randomness—like the unpredictable moment when Calamity strikes.
He didn't hesitate and chose Yes.
Of course—his wife had practically shown up at his doorstep. Why would he turn her away?
Artoria sets about looking for suitable work in Salisbury.
She temporarily takes up lodging in your private quarters.
You and Artoria discuss the matter of the Chosen of Prophecy.
Artoria insists she is not the Prophetic Child, but merely an ordinary lower-class faery.
"?" Gawain's brow knitted. Something felt off.
To repay your kindness, Artoria begins attempting to cook for you.
After eating Artoria's cooking, your Health points actually decrease.
You resolve to retain sole authority over the household meals.
Artoria vows to earn her keep to repay your hospitality.
She resumes searching for work around Salisbury to cover her living expenses.
Artoria also begins crafting various curious little items to sell.
You notice these items look suspicious—lock-picks, small explosive packets…
Sales around Salisbury are dismal.
Artoria's Mood drops by 5 points.
Skill "Quick Recovery" activates, restoring 4 Mood points.
She presses on, seeking more lawful ways to earn Morgans.
Artoria takes on bounties to hunt various monsters.
That night, you return from duty to find Artoria absent from your quarters.
Worried for her safety, you go searching.
A colleague posting a bounty tells you Artoria accepted a sewer-Morass contract.
You delve into the sewers but find only hordes of slain Morass remains and battle scars.
A rumor reaches you: a witness saw Artoria leaving the city, heading due west.
You follow the trail out of Salisbury toward the west.
You arrive at a riverbank.
There, you spot Artoria bathing in the river.
You see… something you really shouldn't.
Your Mood skyrockets.
"Tsk." Gawain clicked his tongue, his face flushing scarlet.
"This system is defaming me—how dare it insinuate I'm ogling a lady bathing, let alone enjoying it! And the cheek of not even showing me the image—like I'm craving some censored pixel art! Insult upon injury!"
After berating himself, you decide to turn away.
On your way back, you encounter a river-faery who asks if you lust after the bride-faery's beauty.
Choose:
A. Face your desire: "Yes, I'm a lecher!"
B. Deny it: "Of course not—I'm a gentleman."
Look at this simulator, twisting your noble heart into a petty one! Still, Gawain chose A—what does virtue have to do with acknowledging desire?
The river-faery deems you honest and bestows a blessing.
Yet you feel no different.
You suspect it's some subtle boon you can't sense.
But the faery admits the blessing failed—she detects another faery's magic upon you.
She departs, quipping that Artoria's scent is hard to bear—like she just scrubbed a sewer floor.
"...So that's why she ran off to bathe all the way out here?" Gawain mused.
"Perhaps she didn't want you to see her looking so bedraggled," the faery had replied.
Gawain paused, thoughtful.
You return to your quarters. An hour later, Artoria shows up—flustered—explaining that her bounty hunt led her astray outside the city, hence her tardiness.
That night, you hear her mumble in her sleep, "I've finally saved enough money…"
The next day, Artoria presents you with a gift: a finely tailored cloak of the most exquisite, costly fabric.
You calculate the material cost is nearly the same as her Morass-bounty pay.
You treasure this cloak deeply.
Your Affection for Artoria soars.
Staring at the shimmering cloak she's given him, Gawain notices faint bandages around her fingers. He realizes that advancing the main quest matters less than caring for her.
You grow accustomed to Artoria's daily tidying and cleaning; your living quarters have never been better since she moved in.
Artoria searches for fresh ways to earn coin.
To keep her from taking more dangerous bounties, you help plan her ventures.
You purchase several high-end goods from Gloucester—items wildly popular with Salisbury's faeries.
You bundle these elite goods with Artoria's many crafted trinkets into "mystery pouches" sold by raffle.
The pouches yield a substantial profit, which you split with Artoria.
The next day, she gifts you a gleaming longsword to aid in your duties.
Your Affection for Artoria rises further.
You scour Salisbury for a special hair ornament and finally buy a radiant hairpin said to be the masterpiece of a reclusive blacksmith near Tintagel cliffs.
You commission a renowned Sheffield seamstress to sew a beautiful women's gown—she's already learned your measurements from your time with Artoria.
At Salisbury's annual festival, you present the long-awaited gown to Artoria.
Moved to tears, she in turn gifts you splendid knight's armor.
Her Affection for you skyrockets—and so does yours for her.
Your bond swells so high that you spontaneously confess your love to Artoria.
—Thus, the days of tranquility continue, each one weaving your hearts ever closer together.