Werewolf Game 1
- Thread starter OgreMkV
- Start date
Charlie stares toward the southeast through the Forests of the Tatras. Beyond this tranquil farmtown, the ground rises to the hulking darkness of Wroclaw, the source of a terrible afflication which is stealing the town's soul. The Wolves of Wroclaw and their unspeakable depredation are coming. To resist them is to risk all, but these are odds Charlie is used to...
Sandle (Had to go all period on ya'll) plods forth from his modest hut. He is the town shoesmith as his name implies and he knows the town members down to the ingrown toenail. A bit of extra hair on the foot or even so much as a pointy nail and he'll scream wolf. He has a family to protect and if it comes down to he and his trusty pitchfork versus an army of lycan scoundrels he knows the Gods will provide. Old pointy, the pitchfork, was forged by his brother-in-law as a wedding gift, cast from silver of Wroclaw it will be a mighty weapon.
johnlarson66
These Pandas Rock
Now I had to ask myself, is this role playing or not?
Even though there is no speaking in third person and it is not italic, it sure looks like role playing.
After much thought and consideration I have concluded that it is close enough for me.
There for, I see no other choice.
I vote to lynch IceH2O
If anyone does not understand, feel free to ask.
Bed time for Sandle. Luckily tonight is not a full moon and I can rest in peace knowing that the Town will sleep quietly.
I also noticed something was fishy about Ice's post. Here's my theory. Ice owns a horse. A horse has hooves. The devil also has hooves. The connection here is undeniable. How did you aquire that horse Ice?? Did you steal it from the stables of a Nobleman while you fed on his innerds?? Have ye the bloodlust?? Burn the witch!!!
johnlarson66
These Pandas Rock
Lil' John wakes before sunrise. As the sun rises he is in his field to tend to his potatos. As he inspects his crops he gets a strange feeling that something does not seem right. With potato in hand, he looks around then looks at his potato and then looks around. "Something is not right", he says aloud, even though no one is there.
He knows there is something wrong, something missing. His potatos are fine, no problem there. After a few minutes, he puts the potato in his bag. He will fine twenty of his best to share with the rest. He is fond of his potatos. "Everyone of them is like a part of me", he has told many of the other villagers on more than one occasion.
He likes sharing his potatos. He likes fixing them in many different ways. It used to bother the villagers, they liked them fresh and uncooked. Now they love his potatos and look forward for how he will cook them next.
"Hmmm, I wonder if I sliced them and put cheese on top and baked them...", he says to the next potato he has in his hand and puts it in his bag.
He knows there is something wrong, something missing. His potatos are fine, no problem there. After a few minutes, he puts the potato in his bag. He will fine twenty of his best to share with the rest. He is fond of his potatos. "Everyone of them is like a part of me", he has told many of the other villagers on more than one occasion.
He likes sharing his potatos. He likes fixing them in many different ways. It used to bother the villagers, they liked them fresh and uncooked. Now they love his potatos and look forward for how he will cook them next.
"Hmmm, I wonder if I sliced them and put cheese on top and baked them...", he says to the next potato he has in his hand and puts it in his bag.
