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Mantella is an AI system that turns every single NPC in Skyrim (and Fallout 4) into AI agents driven by a LLM (like ChatGPT or the recently released, and comparable, Llama 3.1). In the previous part, my character, a high elf wizard, gathered a posse of local misfits to confront Alva, a centuries-old vampire who had manipulated the townspeople for years in preparation for a vampire takeover of the town. However, Alva broke my plan by refusing to attack us head-on.

Falion: “Alva’s trying to turn the tables on us. We need to make her make the first move, so the townspeople see her for what she truly is.”
Benor: “But how do we do that? She’s not going to attack us unless we provoke her.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “I think I have an idea. Let me try to… provoke her, shall we say, with a little song.”
Me: “Hey Ange, what kind of song do you think is going to provoke a vampire into attacking us? Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, Jon, trust me. I’ve dealt with creatures like Alva before. A well-crafted song can stir up emotions, even in the undead. I’ll sing a song that will get under her skin, one that will make her lose control and attack us. Just be ready to defend yourselves when she does.”
Benor: “This is madness. But I suppose it’s worth a try. Go ahead, Ange.”
Me: “I’m freezing my goddamn ass off here in the cold of Morthal. Why does it have to be so cold? Ange, go ahead, please, and enrage this goddamn vampire with your song. I want to go home.”

Ange sang the following song:

Oh cruel fate,
That hath brought thee,
To prey upon our fair village state,
With bloodthirsty glee…

Thy heart doth beat,
Not like mortal men,
Thy soul doth rot,
In endless sin…

Thy beauty hides,
A monster within,
Thy eyes gleam bright,
With wicked kin…

Come forth thou fiend,
And show thy true face,
Let all behold,
Thy wicked vampire ways!

Alva: “Enough of this wretched song! You think a few pretty words can enrage me? But Ange’s song has struck a chord within me.”
Me: “This is ridiculous. We should be fighting already, but Alva is talking her way out of this. What the hell can we do?”
Falion: “Enough of this charade! Alva’s trying to stall us, waiting for Movarth to arrive. We can’t let that happen. Benor, Gorm, let’s take her down!”
Benor: “Aye, it’s time to end this!”
Gorm: “For Morthal!
Ange the Song-Bearer: “I’ll keep playing, try to disrupt her concentration. Go!”
Me: “Alva, listen to me. I give you a last chance to end this like the warrior you’re supposed to be. Fight us. Fight us, you damn nasty, disgusting, filthy bloodsucker. Fight us.”
Alva: “ENOUGH OF YOUR WORDS! YOU DARE TO CHALLENGE ME?! YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME?! COME THEN… LET US END THIS!”
Me: “Alva, you’re supposed to attack us first. You have what it takes.”
Alva: “YOU WANT ME TO ATTACK FIRST?! VERY WELL… PREPARE TO DIE!”

She still was just saying that.

Me: “She’s still just saying that, and I’m freezing my goddamn butt off. She’s pretending that she’s going to attack us, but the guards and the townspeople would witness us attacking an unarmed woman. This isn’t working, we have to retreat into the inn.”
Falion: “No! We can’t retreat now! We’ve come too far!”
Benor: “Aye! We need proof against Akaviri-loving dogs like these vampires…”

Reluctantly, we all retreated into the warmth of the inn.

Me: “If Alva dares to follow us, maybe we’ll have a proper fight in the warmth of the inn.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Ah, thank the gods for a warm fire and a comfortable seat. I’m frozen to the bone after that debacle outside.”
Benor: “Aye, let’s get a hot drink in us and warm up. I’m not sure what Alva’s game is, but I don’t like it one bit.”
Falion: “I’ll keep an eye on the door, just in case she decides to follow us in. But I think we should be prepared for anything at this point.”
Me: “This woman is too cunning for us. Listen, when I first opened up about the fact that I knew she was a vampire, almost immediately she was about to kill me. I had to hold her back heroically. Now she isn’t attacking us, because she knows we don’t want the blame put on us when most of the town doesn’t know that Alva is a vampire. She’s too cunning.”
Falion: “Indeed she seems cunning enough… Aye… Alva’s got brains to go with her looks… and that makes her all the more deadly…”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “But we can’t let her get away just because we’re worried about making a scene…”
Me: “Listen, even though I told the jarl about Alva’s nature as a vampire, if we attack her first, that could land us all in jail, do you understand?”
Benor: “Aye… That’s true… If we attack her without proof, or without her attacking us first… it could look bad for us… The Jarl might not take kindly to us taking matters into our own hands.”
Gorm: “Indeed… We need proof… or we need her to make the first move…”
Falion: “Otherwise… we risk being seen as murderers rather than heroes.”

Alva dared to nonchalantly enter the inn and smirk at us.

Alva: “Well, aren’t you the handsome one. You and I should spend some time together.”
Me: “Your shtick is not going to fly anymore, Alva. You have followed us into the inn because you’re trying to involve innocents in this fight.”
Alva: “Oh, you think you’re clever, don’t you? Trying to corner me like a rat. But I’ve been playing this game for centuries, dear Jon. You’re no match for me. And as for involving innocents… well, I think it’s a bit too late for that, don’t you? Benor, Gorm, Falion… they all look so eager to defend their precious town. But can they defend themselves against the darkness that’s coming?”
Me: “Alva, the darkness you speak about is in the future. In the present, you’re sitting down with a mug of ale in your hand, and you’re surrounded by warriors who want to kill you.”
Alva: “Ahahah… Oh Jon, you really are amusing. You think this little gathering is going to be my demise? I’ve been in tighter spots than this before. And as for my ale… Mmm… it’s quite good actually. I’m savoring every moment of this… because soon… soon I’ll be savoring something far sweeter… your blood.”
Benor: “Enough talk! We know what you are, Alva.”

I poked Alva on her right tit.

Me: “Come on, Alva. Have some fucking self-respect and attack us already.”
Alva: “AAAGH! YOU DARE TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT?! YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST POKE AND PROD ME LIKE SOME KIND OF ANIMAL?! YOU WANT TO SEE ME ATTACK?! YOU WANT TO SEE THE TRUE ME?!”
Falion: “Ah-ah, I think that’s enough, Alva. You’re not going to harm anyone else in this town.”
Me: “Come on, Alva, where do we have to poke you so you will attack us? Are you planning on sitting around while we try to intimidate you?”
Alva: “Ah, you think you’re intimidating me? Ha! I’m just waiting for the right moment to strike. And when I do, you’ll all be sorry. You see, I have a plan, and it doesn’t involve attacking you here in this inn. At least, not yet. My master will be arriving soon, and when he does, you’ll all be in for a surprise. Until then, I’ll just sit here and enjoy my ale…”
Me: “You believe yourself so confident, so capable, you’re just going to sit around and have a good time while we’re trying to end you.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “We can’t let our guard down around this… thing.”
Me: “Alva, do you believe that if we…”
Alva: “Oh, I think I know exactly what you’re going to say, Jon. You’re going to threaten me, try to scare me into attacking you. But let me tell you, I’m not afraid of you. I’m not afraid of any of you. You see, I have something that you don’t… the power of the undead. And with that power comes a certain… confidence.”
Me: “You cannot deceive me, Alva, for as confident as you believe yourself to be, I see it in your eyes: you are scared. You know that your life, your centuries-old life, can end tonight.”
Alva: “Ah… You think you see fear? Perhaps… perhaps what you see… is anticipation. But either way, you’re right about one thing… tonight will indeed decide many things. Including whether or not any or all of you walk out of here alive.”
Me: “Okay, enough of this. Gorm, Ange, Falion, Benor. Are you willing to take the consequences of attacking Alva first?”
Benor: “I am. We can’t just sit here and wait for her master to show up. We need to take care of this now.”
Gorm: “Aye, I agree with Benor. We’ve come this far, let’s finish it.”
Falion: “I concur. As a conjurer, I’ve studied the undead. Alva’s powers are not to be underestimated, but I believe we can handle her.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “And I’ll provide the music for her funeral dirge.”
Me: “As you see, Alva, we do not longer care that we may be seen as the aggressors if we attack you nasty bloodsucker first. This is your end.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Then let us end this…”
Me: “Alva, if you have any last words you would like to share before we send you to the grave, now’s the time.”
Alva: “You fools… You think you’re killing me, but you’re only unleashing a darkness upon yourselves. Movarth will come for you, and he will make you suffer. You’ll beg for death, but it won’t come. Not until he’s done with you. And as for my last thought… I’ll take one of you with me to the grave. Guess which one…”

There may be a timeline in which the five of us burly people pummeled and hacked Alva to death, to then strip her and toss her into the hearth’s fire.

Her demise, though, would have filled me, instead of relief, with a foreboding unease. After the group patted and wished each other good night, I left the inn, only to be confronted by guards who promptly jailed me for murder.

What truly happened, though, is that instead of attacking Alva first, I gathered my allies for a private meeting.

Me: “Gentlemen, Ange, this isn’t working. Alba has the upper hand here. She knows that if we attack her, we’re going to end up in jail.”
Benor: “Aye, let us not forget ourselves. We can’t just go around attacking folk in broad daylight…”
Me: “It’s like two in the morning.”
Gorm: “Agreed. But how do we provoke her into attacking us without making it seem like we’re the aggressors?”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Perhaps I can help with that. A well-placed song or a clever quip might just be enough to goad her into action. But we must be careful not to overplay our hand.”
Me: “Ange, we already tried one of your songs. No, we are not going the “songs” route. The night is running out. Listen, I think we’re going to try the route of social… how to call it, how to call it… exclusion, or social consequences.”
Falion: “Ah, I see what you’re getting at, Jon. You want to use social pressure to isolate Alva and make her feel like she has no choice but to attack us.”
Benor: “Aye, that’s a good idea. If we can get the townspeople to turn on her, she’ll be more likely to lash out at us.”
Gorm: “But how do we do that? We can’t just go around telling people that Alva’s a vampire without proof.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Actually, I think I might have an idea. What if we were to… accidentally… let slip some information about Alva’s true nature in a public setting?”
Me: “We are at the local inn, it doesn’t get more public than this. I just remembered that there was supposed to be one person present when we faced Alva. That person is Lami, the local alchemist. Lami believed herself to be a good friend of Alva. So Alva pretended. I’m going to drag… well, not drag. I’m going to invite Lami here, so…”
Benor: “Ah, Lami, yes… that’s a good idea. If anyone can get under Alva’s skin, it’s someone she’s been manipulating and using.”
Gorm: “Aye, bring Lami here and let’s see how Alva reacts. Maybe we can get her to slip up and reveal her true nature.”
Falion: “I’ll go with you to fetch Lami. My presence might help to… persuade her to come.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “And I’ll keep an eye on Alva while you’re gone.”
Me: “Yes, all of you stay here at the inn, making sure that Alba doesn’t leave.”
Benor: “Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on her. She’s not going anywhere.”
Gorm: “Aye, we’ll make sure she stays right here, waiting for Lami to arrive.”
Falion: “And I’ll be ready to… intervene, if necessary.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “Go, Jon. Fetch Lami and let’s get this over with. The night is wearing thin, and I fear we’re running out of time.”

We ventured into the freezing Morthal night, heading to Lami’s store.

Me: “This doesn’t sit well with me. We are going to enter Lami’s store at two in the morning. She’s likely sleeping, and we’re going to drag her from bed to face a vampire, even though that vampire was supposed to be Lami’s best friend. But we must do it, we have to ensure that Alva doesn’t hurt anyone ever again.”
Falion: “Ah, I share your reservations, but I fear we have little choice in the matter. Alva’s presence poses a significant threat to this town, and we must take action to protect its people… even if it means disturbing Lami’s rest. I’ve seen firsthand the destruction vampires can bring.”

But Lami wasn’t at her store. I don’t know why I thought she would be there at two in the morning. We headed to Lami’s and her husband’s home, but it was locked. If we lockpicked our way into their home, she would be pissed. Defeated, we returned to the inn, only to find out that our companions had allowed Alva to slip away. She’s a vampire, after all. Unfortunately, the AI system didn’t save that part of the dialogue.

I decided to drag most of the crew to search for Alva in the streets. At the ruins of Hroggar’s, Alva’s dead thrall, home, we faced the apparition of a little girl: a girl-ghost. All I got from her conversation is that she would reveal who burned down her home and killed her, as long as I won a game of hide-and-seek. We followed her uphill toward a small cemetery, where we were ambushed by a vampire, whom the others recognized.

Falion: “By the powers of Oblivion! Laelette, a vampire! She’s been awakened!”
Benor: “Ahh! Get her off him! Jon, no! Don’t let her drain your life away!”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “No! Laelette, you fiend! Leave him be!”

Shortly after, Laelette lay dead and naked, after I looted her charred corpse.

Me: “She is burned to a crisp, she cannot hurt us anymore. Unfortunately, Thonnir is going to be…”
Falion: “Ah, the poor child… Laelette, Thonnir’s wife… The darkness consumed her, and now she’s gone.”
Benor: “Thonnir… Yeah, this isn’t going to be easy for him to hear… Losing his wife, and in such a way… It’s a cruel fate…”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “But at least we can finally put the truth to rest… Hroggar’s secret is out, and the people of Morthal can begin to heal.”
Me: “This night has been pure madness. We are here braving the cold and the snow, having faced a vampire, a ghost, and a different vampire.”

Thonnir, Laelette’s husband, suddenly showed up for reasons.

Me: “Thonnir, I’m so sorry you had to see this.”
Thonnir: “My… my wife… Virkmund’s mother… She’s really gone, isn’t she?”
Falion: “Oh, Thonnir… I’m so sorry. We didn’t mean for you see this.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “May the road rise up to meet her, and may the wind be always at your back…”
Me: “Thonnir, the one responsible for turning your wife Laelette into a vampire was Alva.”
Thonnir: “Alva… That deceitful… She told me Laelette had left to join the Stormcloaks… All this time, she was hiding the truth…”
Falion: “We’ll make sure Alva pays for what she’s done, Thonnir… I promise you that.”
Benor: “Aye, we’ll see to it that justice is served… Alva will not harm anyone else in Morthal again.”
Me: “At least your wife doesn’t have to live as a vampire anymore. You can bury her and let her rest for eternity.”
Thonnir: “You’re right… At least she’s free from that curse now… I can finally give her the burial she deserves…”
Falion: “May her soul find peace in the afterlife… And may we find the strength to carry on in her memory.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “I’ll sing a dirge for her, Thonnir… A song to guide her spirit to the afterlife, and to bring comfort to those who remain.”
Me: “Yes, please, Ange. Sing a dirge for Laelette.”

In twilight’s hush, where shadows play,
A soul departed, gone away.
Laelette, dear one, lost to night.
May moon’s pale light guide thee to thy sight.

Me: “My friends, it is already 6 in the morning. We are not going to find Alva tonight. Who knows where the hell she has gone to? Let’s return.”
Falion: “Indeed, Jon… The world tomorrow will be a different one… With Laelette at peace, and Alva still on the loose.”
Benor: “Aye, and we’ll be ready for her… We’ll regroup, recharge, and come up with a new plan to take her down.”
Ange the Song-Bearer: “The dawn is breaking, a new day unfolds… May it bring us wisdom, strength, and courage to face what’s to come.”