The Werewolf Game CD: Volume I

It's cold and dank outside, and the wet air clings to Hugh as he steps through the night. His feet clack against the cobbles. He pulls his coat closer around him as he marches on towards the pub. The killer continues to observe his minute behaviours from the window. Fascinating.
It's raucous inside the Monkey's Foreskin tonight. Glasses shatter, Tom falls over, Nick laughs, Tim pours another drink. A cacophony of joviality. It seems the whole village is accounted for. A bell over the door rings as Hugh shudders, pulls off his coat, enters, hangs up his coat. The wail of a successful night at the pub continues.

this is the people what are in this game like

TOGS Tom Lobo Butcher
Atmosfear Rick Vulkodlak Baker
Nevrmore Steffan Cobb Cobbler
Mr. E James Castle Candlestick maker
djwolford Fred Flaggons Pub owner
janglez Tim South Bartender
Sudo Luke Kynethrope Bartender
Woofness Hugh Morbach Opium den owner
Mr. Lucifer Neil Ulfhamr University lecturer and general far-too-sodding-clever type staying at monkey's foreskin
LargeDuck Richard Corbett Local Bard, minstrel, entertainer
Coldfyre Ben Trotter Tests out board games for money
Mr. Troy Nick Jones Builder
Thunderdome David Andress Plumber

This is what you should do now like

Post in-character, give people an idea of who you are and things, maybe drawing out some of the traits or backstories I've given you in PMs. The only real rule here is to post, so that I know that I can count on your activity. This is the time for witty banter. Remember, you have no clue someone is going to die tonight.

Neil walsk through the aged door of the tavern, walking at a steady regulated pace towards a table half cast in shadow half illuminated by the light above the bar, observing all other occupants such as him who have taken shelter from the cold. "Bar keep" he says in a low tone "A tipple of your most geriatric scotch if it pleases you, and one for yourself, my bones are telling me this shall be a bitter night, have a swig of liquid warmth on my coin". Reaching into his inside left jacket pocket, he draws a black cigarette case, removes one, striking a match all in the bar turn at the sound of the scratch, as if they hadnt noticed him walk in, their expressions implying they rather think he appeared from the shadows of the small pub themselves.

Tom clumsily gets up to peer at the latest guest in the pub. Wiping his clothes of the spilled beer and peanuts. He scratches at the blood stains on his apron wishing he had changed prior to going the the pub.

"Ah! Hello Hugh, and how are things tonight for the opium industry?"

Tom signals to Tim without looking at him.

"Another round please Tim."

Gives Tom a 3rd martini

"Er' ya to Tom, have you seen Luke? He's late for his shift."

Observing the general chit chat unfolding from the other side of the bar, neil gets up, taking his glass of fine scotch (the barmen had a good taste in liquer) with him, he proceeded towards the gentlemen discussing, not yet sure of the topic of dicussion, having only heard mumbling, it was enough to sustain interest. "Good evening gentlemen, mind if i join you"

"Opium industry, must be fun," James Castle says to himself.

James looks down into his double of scotch on the rocks and swirls the ice around, a tired and sad look in his eyes.

"My dad was a candlestick maker, my grand-father was a candlestick maker, my great-grandfather was a candlestick maker, and they were all named James too. Hell of a time picking up the ladies as a candlestick maker. Heh, like I could pick up ladies. I can't even get people to call me Jim."

James looks small in his lonely corner of the pub, talking to himself. He throws down the double in a single gulp and stands to go get another. When he stands people always look his way, another thing he despises. The small and pathetic form from the corner has transformed into a massive titan among men, standing a full head above the tallest man in the room. He walks across the room to the bar, slamming down his glass. He checks his pockets, finding a little money and a lot of wax. He sighs.

"I guess make it your cheapest vodka this time, Luke."

James then looks up to see that Luke hasn't shown up yet. Luke not being there breaks James' routine. He scowls a bit at this inconsistency.

"You'll do Tim."

Ben Trotter shuffles towards a large table in the room. He carries with him a large folding board and a sack of lumpy figures.

"Oy bar keep! Pour me a few shots, I've got a new game here that is going to blow backgammon out of the water! *mumble* stupid ruttin' game..."

He lays the board on the table and dumps the sack of figures onto the table.

"Bloody hell, now how did I have this set up again? Lets see, what was this thimble for again?" He looks up from the mess "Better double that order, I may need to do some tinkering. Free shot to the first person who'll give me a hand here!"

"I can help. As long as I can be this cute little puppy."

Tom clumsily continues to help Ben set up the game, not aware of how pissed he is becoming, until he recognizes another game piece.

"Ay, Nick, you should get your wife over here, she can be this little iron here!"

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by TheOriginalGrumpySpy

"Ah! Hello Hugh, and how are things tonight for the opium industry?"

---

Hugh turned groggily in the direction of the voice and glanced up through heavily bloodshot eyes in way of an answer.

"Not too bad Tom, not too...bad..no. Not at all.."

"Drink!" he announced with sudden clarity "I need one"

Hugh smiled weakly at Tom and moved off in roughly in the direction of the bar

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by TheOriginalGrumpySpy

"Ay, Nick, you should get your wife over here, she can be this little iron here!"

---

"Tom, my lady is too involved in keeping the house to be involved in our tom-foolery!" Nick says laughing...

Besides, if she were to come here, I would see her all the time, I may as well stay home and listen to her nag. I am down here all the time for a reason. (smirks)

"Ahh... I kid of course, my wife is a saint to put up with a booze-hound like me! How goes the meat business Tom? I may have to send my wife for another helping of your beef next week, no one has better livestock in town!"

Motions to Luke

"Eh... Luke! Gimme' another will ya'?"

"She will certainly get a helping of my beef, certainly." Tom says with a sly grin.

"Be careful with those Tom, being lead they all turn into li'l blobs if you don't handle them with care"

He opens the wooden board and places it on the table. The board has several blank boxes scrawled around the outer edge. In the center of the board in bold lettering is the word Oligopoly.

He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out some wet slop

"Blasted racka...*unintelligable muttering* Grant is gonna kill me, these were the original cards."

"Tim! Luke! Where's that drink? He swipes his hand at the pile of figures on the table, sending them flying through the air.

"Looks like I won't be sharing this damned game with you boys tonight, bah, it would have been too complicated anyways with the booze flowing the way it does in here. Speaking of booze, I still need a drink, excuse me Tom."

He stands up and walks over to the bar, slamming his fist on the bar top "Two of ya and I'm havin' ta holler for a drink, I'd hate for Fred ta see this!

"Easy there Ben, no need to get excited."
"Get this man a drink Tim, and while you're at it, could you get me one as well?"

Fred lets out a deep laugh and grabs the drinks. He brings Ben his beverage and raises his glass for a toast.

"How is everyone doing tonight?" asks Fred with a jolly half-drunken smile.

THE DOOR SLAMS OPEN

"DID I HEAR SOMEBODY GIVIN OUT FREE DRINKS IN HERE AND NOT EVEN THINKIN TO CALL HIS GOOD BUDDY DAVID IN FOR A PINT?"

David walks to the bar

"Fred my boy, fancy a free pint to down? I could use it after the heapin help of crap I had to shovel outta old Tom Lobo's crapper tuhday."

*yelling at tom from across the room*"EY TOM! YAR SPOSE'D TAH TAKE THE BONES OUTTA THAT MEAT YOU'RE CHOPPIN UP BEFORE YAH EAT IT WHOLE, OL' BUDDY"

he winks at tom after saying this, which he didn't intend to look homosexual, but to a few men around him, it kind of did.

"Ok im jus playin around Fred, gimme four pints, im thinkin on startin slow today...for the misses, ya undastand dontcha?"

Fred pours David four pints, and he downs them in 10 seconds flat

"EY WHATYA FANCY *hic* A SONG BOYS!?"

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH

For to see my Tom of Bedlam, 10,000 miles I'd travel
Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes, to save her shoes from gravel.

Still I sing bonnie boys, bonnie mad boys,
Bedlam boys are bonnie
For they all go bare and they live by the air,
And they want no drink nor money.

I went down to Satin's kitchen, for to beg me food one morning
There I got souls piping hot, all on the spit a turning.

There I picked up a cauldron, Where boiled 10,000 harlots
Though full of flame I drank the same, to the health of all such varlets.

My staff has murdered giants, my bag a long knife carries
For to cut mince pies from children's thighs, with which to feed the fairies.

Spirits white as lightning, shall on my travels guide me
The moon would quake and the stars would shake, when' ere they espied me.

No gypsy slut nor doxy, shall win my Mad Tom from me
I'll weep all night, the stars I'll fight, the fray will well become me.

It's when next I have murdered, the Man-In-The-Moon to powder
His staff I'll break, his dog I'll bake, they'll howl no demon louder.

So drink to Tom of Bedlam, he'll fill the seas in barrels
I'll drink it all, all brewed with gall, with Mad Maudlin I will travel."

Tom, rolling his eyes, turns to Hugh

"I guess it's not a pub night without David makin' a scene,"he says in a hushed voice.

this is the people what are managed to like make an opening post and shit

TOGS Tom Lobo Butcher
Atmosfear Rick Vulkodlak Baker
Nevrmore Steffan Cobb Cobbler
Mr. E James Castle Candlestick maker
djwolford Fred Flaggons Pub owner
janglez Tim South Bartender
Sudo Luke Kynethrope Bartender
Woofness Hugh Morbach Opium den owner
Mr. Lucifer Neil Ulfhamr University lecturer and general far-too-sodding-clever type staying at monkey's foreskin
LargeDuck Richard Corbett Local Bard, minstrel, entertainer
Coldfyre Ben Trotter Tests out board games for money
Mr. Troy Nick Jones Builder
Thunderdome David Andress Plumber
sending PMs out to people who haven't posted yet now

Richard "Dick" Vulkodlak, town baker, stumbles into the pub. He is still wearing his apron, dashed with flour, and judging by his odor, he has just finished a batch of rum cakes.

"Get me a drink," he slurs to the bartender, barely catching himself from falling as he attempts, and fails, to sit on his barstool. "I jus', I jus', I jus' want a drink."

Before the barkeep can put a drink in front of him, his head lands squarely on the bar, eyes shut, spittle beginning to gather at the corner of his mouth.

"Listen here ya no good baker, if Fred walks in and sees me serving to a drunk he'll have my head"

Removes the drink from the bar and downs it himself

"Com on Tim! Give em in! Man deserves a drink after all dem rum cakes he's no doubt been stuffin his face with! Not good for the body it is. All them carbohydrates n all. Not like id know any fancy science stuff about all that..."

*points at Neil Ulfhamr*

"You, you prolly know bout all that stuff, speak to the good man here *hic*. This man is in needin of a drink!"

Richard cracked out a lyre and a penny whistle and amidst cries of 'Get out' and 'Shut up' he proceeded to give a rough performance of an old ditty. Collapsing in drunken giggles he slumped down on the bar and mumbled something about an old coat.

Ben pounds his drinks back and slams the glass on the bar top

"Woo, tha's some po'erful stuff ya got there."

He turns around, leaning on the bar and looks around through the room

"Looks like we've got a full crowd tonight."

The door creaks open and Steffan moves through, shutting it quietly behind him.

"What a day...Boyyo, I need something to relax." He says with a sigh, taking a seat at the bar.

Steffan swipes his hand across the bar, "I don't know what these pussies are drinking, but I'll have a Guinness". Tim whips down a pint glass and starts throwing it around his body, slowly attracting the attention of the room with his bartending skills. Everyone laughs and claps loudly. He raises the Guinness pump high into the air, and with a flourish, pulls the trigger. A warm ruby liquid sprays across the room. It's unmistakable in it's consistency.
Below, in the basement, Luke's bones and blood lie in a barrel of Guinness, not a strip of flesh left. Every door of the liquor house has been locked whilst Tim's distraction has been conveniently holding the attention of the drunkards. Havoc breaks out in the suddenly claustrophobic and undesirably drunk pub.
Rick leans across the the bar and leers at a stunned Tim. "Well, you'd better not run out of bourbon"

for now

we'll have a couple of posts for effect and ambiance, but it is for all intents and purposes night time now, so after the next 3 posts if we could have night-time quiet. Werewolves, seer, get in contact with me ASAP

Tom turns to the crowd of cheerful man.
He begins singing to himself slurring his words.

"And to think, I was mad at him for not being where he usually is to serve me my drink. That shoots my routine to hell. I had just gotten used to it too."

James lifts his drink solemnly, one would think in honor of his fallen friend and barman, but anyone who knows him would tell you it was equal parts to honor Luke and to mourn the loss of the routine he had gone out of his way to be able to follow every single day for the past several years.

Richard stumbles blearily to his feet. It's sun up, and one eery shaft of morning light pours into the urine, blood, alcohol and peanut stained pub from a window high above. The place is a mess; a whirlwind of clothes, bodies and glasses. Richard blunders awkwardly towards the spirits, hungover. His eyes catch sight of Tim's forehead flat against the blood bathed bar, the ornamental sword usually held behind the liquors removed from it's mantle and pierced straight through the skull, hilt protruding upwards.
Right between the eyes.
Richard passes out again.

this is the people what are in this game like

TOGS Tom Lobo Butcher
Atmosfear Rick Vulkodlak Baker
Nevrmore Steffan Cobb Cobbler
Mr. E James Castle Candlestick maker
djwolford Fred Flaggons Pub owner
janglez Tim South Bartender
Sudo Luke Kynethrope Bartender
Woofness Hugh Morbach Opium den owner
Mr. Lucifer Neil Ulfhamr University lecturer and general far-too-sodding-clever type staying at monkey's foreskin
LargeDuck Richard Corbett Local Bard, minstrel, entertainer
Coldfyre Ben Trotter Tests out board games for money
Mr. Troy Nick Jones Builder
Thunderdome David Andress Plumber

DAYTIME KIDS

SOMEONE'S GOING TO HAVE TO PAY FOR THIS
Chat and Accuse, someone'll be lynched before sundown

Groggily comes to, vision still blurred due to the immense amount of alcohol still being filtered through his body. He sees the impaled body of Tim South and is instantly reminded of the meat hanging in his shop

"Every butcher knows you don't cut meat like that."

"I can't believe I'm still in here. I can't believe I'm still in here. I should be waking up in my bed right now. In five minutes I need my morning drink, two minutes after that I need to have my morning fire started in the stove, eight minutes after that I need my daily breakfast of eight strips of bacon and four eggs."

James freaks out for a while over how everything is different, apparently not even realizing Tim was dead until he stands and overhears Tom's statement.

"Oh great, and now there aren't any bartenders. My life is never going to be the same again. All of my hard work, all of my stability is lost. I might even die! I'm twenty-seven, I can't die at such an uneven age as twenty-seven. I need to make it at least to twenty-eight. Nice and even twenty-eight. Eighty-eight would be ideal, but beggars can't be choosers."

James has started trailing off talking to himself again before he came to the realization that he was going to have to break routine. He freaks out to himself for a bit before finally mustering up all of the strength he had to speak.

"Well......what are we going to do about this? Clearly someone is killing people, and since I can't die until at least next year we need to find out who did it and stop them now. I don't know how we should go about this, but I do know that......oh lord I'm about to pass out. Hugh, you wouldn't happen to have any opium on you would you?"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mr. E

Hugh, you wouldn't happen to have any opium on you would you?"

---

Without lifting his head from where he lay slumped on the bar, Hugh plunged his free hand in his coat pocket. After a moment he withdrew it again

"No"

A matter of seconds later and his own statement sank in..."no opium". His head snapped up instantly, but on surveying the scene around him he promptly doubled over and vomited. Not that it made much of a difference to the state of the place.

"Who! HOW! ..I mean... what the shit happened here!?"

Quote: "Who! HOW! ..I mean... what the shit happened here!?"

Hearing such a sentance in such circumstances caused an intoxicating desire for wit to course through niel's veins, hed seen the body, he felt the fear, but such an opertunity for innapropriate humour is a rarety "Well old boy" he said stumbling over to hugh and clapping him on the shoulder "it seems our bartender is dead, come, share a drink with me, lets have the toast to the fallen, ill get ya a drink" turning to re-establish his gaze on tim, he felt the first twinge of a movement in his stomach, but managed to keep the large amount of alcahol hes consumed in his belly for now, and resorted to further in-appropriate humour "Honestly, not the best of bartenders that one, punters a' waiting and hes taking a bloody kip"

"We must come to look at the evidence of who did this. Firstly, we must move the body to the basement focus our attention on the identity of this murderer. Secondly, many of us were too drunk to even stand let alone retrieve that sword and impale this poor man. Was anyone awake or nearly so that caught a glimpse of someone among us that did not belong? Besides us seasoned veterans of this pub, was anyone new here? "

David wakes, he stumbles over the bar nonchalantly, blatantly still drunk because he fails to notice the carnage before him. He takes a seat in front of Tim's mangled corpse and rests his head flat down on the table.

"aye........tim.......augh........pint, tim..........a pint"

David has an eerie sense put over him, Tim always had something to say about David's drunkeness no matter what condition it was whenever he ordered a drink.

"Tim.......are ya there tim? Tim?"

David slowly tilts his head up to the horror before him, and the gasps of everyone around him watching.

"NOOOOOOOO TIM! AHHHHHHHHHHH YOU FOCKIN BASTARDS, ILL FOCKIN KILL YOU. WHO THE FUCK."

David reaches into his oversized cuffed trenchcoat pocket, brandishes a pistol, and slams it down to the countertop.

"Who the fuck was it ey? Cmon speak up. Ya may not ave known it at the tyme, but this bloke here, the bloke with the fockin sword stickin out of his face.......he was to marry my sister.......YA FOCKIN BLIMEY FOCKS."

Fred, not wanting hostility in his establishment, puts his hand on David's large shouler. David grabs his arm, not even realizing it is his longtime friend, and throws the small man over him. All the men in the pub rush David to subdue him. The gun's taken from his hands and placed behind the bar.

David's anger soon turns to sadness and remorse, he's left sobbing to himself over a bottle of pure grain alchohol at a table in a corner, to David, the corner looks a mile away from everyone in the room.

Falling off the bar stool and onto the floor, Richard awoke suddenly. Without his glasses he could see the vague outline of the pub seemingly still full of people. As he fumbled for his specs in his immediate surroundings he called out to whoever might be listening.

"What time is it fellas, its getting awful light in here?"

Finally plucking the desired object from his pocket he surveyed the shocking scene. Unable to muster words two thoughts ran through his head. He initially wondered how he had managed to sleep through the carnage, the second thought to run through his head he voiced without thinking.

"Why hasn't anyone fetched the constable?"

"The doors are locked friend. From the outside."

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mr Lucifer

"Honestly, not the best of bartenders that one, punters a' waiting and hes taking a bloody kip"

---

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you stranger!? I just met ya and I already don't like ye... and you can ask anybody, I like every single person in this town. Now is not the time to be making light of such a gruesome situation."

Nick looks around, and hears James rambling

"And James, no offense my good friend, but your god damn routine is the last thing you should be concerned about... what if this person isn't done killing?"

"Santa Maria!" Steffan shouted as his eyes locked the image of the dead man into place after several seconds of intense focusing. "Is that man dead??"

"I don't know Steffan, ask him."

Ben slowly lifts his head from a puddle of vomit, his hair a sticky mess. He looks around slowly as his eyes regain focus.

"Holy hell what in the Lord's name happened here? Who... what..."

He gets to his feet and stumbles to the door trying to open it with no luck. He pounds his fists on the door

"Hey! Let us out of here! Something... something is terribly wrong!"

He turns around and points at random patrons of the bar

"You, you, you... I can't trust any of you!"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by MrTroy

"And James, no offense my good friend, but your god damn routine is the last thing you should be concerned about... what if this person isn't done killing?"

---

"I am well aware of that, Nick, well aware. You don't have to be too worried though. Your age ends in an even number, if I recall correctly. Bloody lucky son of a bitch. We should figure this out before someone else dies, but if we don't, at least some of us have the good fortune of dying with an even number on our tombstone. I myself don't know about you Niel, this is no time to be making light. Think of the uneven numbers man, the uneven numbers!"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by MrTroy

"And James, no offense my good friend, but your god damn routine is the last thing you should be concerned about... what if this person isn't done killing?"

---

Person! HA, and tell me Nick.....what kind of person has nails so sharp, and so long as to give a man clawmarks this deep ey?"

he lifts tim's ripped shirt to show his mangled, teared back

"Aye, this aint no standard serial killer, no, this is a focking monster that murdered Tim."

"You've all heard the stories aye? As a kid? All our parents told us stories of werewolves in these parts. And I think this just might be our story boyos...."

Quote:

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Originally Posted by thunderdome

"You've all heard the stories aye? As a kid? All our parents told us stories of werewolves in these parts. And I think this just might be our story boyos...."

---

"Ahh... bullocks, that is just an old myth for scarin' the children... I'd have a hard time believing such a thing could exist! It could have just been some kinda vicious blade or tool of some sort..."

Nick leers across the room at Tom...

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by MrTroy

"Ahh... bullocks, that is just an old myth for scarin' the children... I'd have a hard time believing such a thing could exist! It could have just been some kinda vicious blade or tool of some sort..."

Nick leers across the room at Tom...

---

Notices the leer

"There is a goddamn sword sticking out of him. Think that could have been it you putz?"

"Jesus Christ!" exclaimed Fred, "It's got to the point that a man can't even operate a bar without his employees getting killed and people making up stories about werewolfs anymore?". "It's obvious that this is the work of a human being. I mean what kind of werewolf uses a sword?".

Fred grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours himself a shot. Upon drinking it, a jolly smile returns to his face. "Well at least I don't have to pay them now."

Rick raises his head from the bar, coughing...

"Professor Plum with the candlestick in the library"

and promptly resumes snoring.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by djwolford

"Jesus Christ!" exclaimed Fred, "It's got to the point that a man can't even operate a bar without his employees getting killed and people making up stories about werewolfs anymore?". "It's obvious that this is the work of a human being. I mean what kind of werewolf uses a sword?".

Fred grabs a bottle of whiskey and pours himself a shot. Upon drinking it, a jolly smile returns to his face. "Well at least I don't have to pay them now."

---

"The same kind of werewolf that tore every little peice of meat off of fockin Luke's body, with shite to show for it! No human is capable of that, I dont care how twisted they are. The werewolves from the stories, they werent all wolf boyos, they were half human, half wolf. You know? Fockin lycans for focks sake. Which means that they could be in our presence, right here, right now. So I suggest we fockin do somethin about it for focks sake instead of standin around with our hands up ar arses."

David's legs start to wobble and eyesight begins to blur from talking so much

"Fred pour me a fockin shot, I feel like im about to keel over."

He takes a seat

Fred pours a shot for David and himself. "Well at least we can be good and drunk whenever the blasted creature strikes again. Cheers good sir!"

"Wh-wh-what do you mean werewolves? Yo-yo-you don't really think them to be real do you?"

He shakingly walks to a table and sits down

"Th-th-this whole situation has my st-st-stuttering problem coming back... I-i-it hasn't happened since I was a wee one. Co-co-could ya pour me a shot as well? M-m-my nerves are shot."

Fred pours Ben a double-shot and scratches his head. Ben takes it in stride and Fred refills the glass, this time pouring one for himself as well.

"I'm sure it can't really be werewolfs Ben, they're just an old wive's tale. We'll just have to watch our backs and make sure that we're fightin' drunk in case anything happens."

Fred grabs a bottle of scotch and fills three glasses. "Ben, David, have another drink. Just remember, fightin' drunk!".

"Broken routine, werewolves, uneven numbers, no opium, mix me something up too Fred. Make it something nice and obliterating. If I'm going to make it to the end of the day without offing myself I'm going to need to be nice, calm, and carefree. You're no Tim, and you're sure as hell no Luke, but I would imagine you still know a little something about making problems go away."

"I think, I think I want to go home and see my wife."

Quote:

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Originally Posted by TheOriginalGrumpySpy

"I think, I think I want to go home and see my wife."

---

Aye...a good idea....but after this next drink...

Fred grabs an old dusty bottle from underneath the bar and starts filling glasses. "This is my special reserve friends. if you need to get hammered, this will do the trick."

"As luck would have it, I've also got a little bit of opium left James."

Fred pulls a small box from under the bar and puts the bottle back. He opens it to reveal a small pipe and a moderate sized chunk of sticky opium.

James thanks Fred and downs his drink. He then lights up the pipe and smokes for a moment. He exhales and smiles.

"Alright fellows, let's get down to brass tax. Who's behind all this, eh? Just go ahead and come forward. We won't retaliate, we swear."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mr. E

James thanks Fred and downs his drink. He then lights up the pipe and smokes for a moment. He exhales and smiles.

"Alright fellows, let's get down to brass tax. Who's behind all this, eh? Just go ahead and come forward. We won't retaliate, we swear."

---

Hugh had just about regained his composure and standing propped up against the bar his ears pricked up at this comment. The pub had fallen silent, Hugh' s eyes flicked around the room taking in each face, in his pocket his hand gripped a short blade. He waited... the first person to begin a confession would find it at their throat..

"Why so silent Rick?"

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by MrTroy

"Ahh... bullocks, that is just an old myth for scarin' the children... I'd have a hard time believing such a thing could exist! It could have just been some kinda vicious blade or tool of some sort..."

Nick leers across the room at Tom...

---

"You seem awful keen to disprove this Nick
...why would that be I wonder."

This is a precious moment, thought Richard as he surveyed the scene. Two people have died, we are locked in from the outside and now everyone wantsto kill one another.

'I don't think we should be drinking and smoking ourselves into a stupor at this early hour, if there is a murderer about we should keep our wits about us. And if accusations are going to be flung they should not be tainted by drunken prejudice.'

I refuse to do anything until you have all sobered up.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Woofness

"You seem awful keen to disprove this Nick
...why would that be I wonder."

---

"C'mon Hugh! You don't seriously believe those old myth's do ya? Such foolishness."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by TheOriginalGrumpySpy

"Why so silent Rick?"

---

"Haven't you ever heard of leaving a drunk man where he lie? I told you all, it was Colonel Mustard with the Revolver in the Ballroom."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by MrTroy

"C'mon Hugh! You don't seriously believe those old myth's do ya? Such foolishness."

---

"Foolishness, my friend, would be to dismiss the idea before it is disproved. I can assure you, I have no intention of doing that".

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by LargeDuck

This is a precious moment, thought Richard as he surveyed the scene. Two people have died, we are locked in from the outside and now everyone wantsto kill one another.

'I don't think we should be drinking and smoking ourselves into a stupor at this early hour, if there is a murderer about we should keep our wits about us. And if accusations are going to be flung they should not be tainted by drunken prejudice.'

I refuse to do anything until you have all sobered up.

---

"I'm with Richard on this one. No need for more bloodshed until we can be rational. I mean, personally I think Ben is the most suspect, but I'm no proponent of violence. Violence creates antisymmetry you know."

"Well I'm not one to point fingers, because it's bad for business, but Neil seems to be the obvious suspect. He's the only one of you that I think would be bright enough to pull something like this off and not get caught, and he's been fairly quiet since people started getting killed around here."

Fred pours himself another glass of scotch.

"Also, I'm sober as a fall chicken Richard."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Atmosfear

"Haven't you ever heard of leaving a drunk man where he lie? I told you all, it was Colonel Mustard with the Revolver in the Ballroom."

---

"DRONK?! Rick i've seenn *hic* many pints dronk in de day, but nevar in me life ha *hic* have I seen an ol matey of mine get dronk after *hic* one pint and a batch of rum cakes. Not in this town, no...*hic*"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mr. E

"I'm with Richard on this one. No need for more bloodshed until we can be rational. I mean, personally I think Ben is the most suspect, but I'm no proponent of violence. Violence creates antisymmetry you know."

---

Me? But I couldn't have done it, it's not in my nature. What about you James, you seem keen on putting me in the spotlight, surely you wouldn't be trying to frame an innocent man!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by coldfyre

Me? But I couldn't have done it, it's not in my nature. What about you James, you seem keen on putting me in the spotlight, surely you wouldn't be trying to frame an innocent man!

---

"I mean no offense good sir, you just seemed conspicuously quiet. I don't intend to frame anyone. Injustice leads to antisymmetry, don't you know."

"I like and trust every single one of ya'..... except for Neil. He's new around here, we ain't had no trouble in this town to amount to much as long as I can remember, then all of the sudden people start dying!? We'd be out of our minds not to consider him the prime suspect!"

On ring Hughs sentiment, Neil stared across from where was sitting catching hughs eye. Of all this frightfull banter, he has unleashed the one true sentiment of the situation, there was no way of knowing who, or rather what, had committed this crime. Neil could see it coming, incident leeds to fear, fear leeds to anger, anger in turn results in witch hunts. He needed to make an attempt to settle the situation, standing up and subtley wondering over to hugh, he whispered to him "the night is still yet young, this killer is unlikely to have had its fill, and this assembley of individuals will soon enact their own form of justice on whoever they deem responsible. tread with care old boy". He didnt know why he felt obliged to warn only one of the inevitability of the situation, but he had seen this mob mindset before, and he refused to be the single survivor...again.

Steffan scratches his head.

"Huh? What's going on? Neil's the murderer?"

Neil stands up, shaking, apparently with fright. "Gentlemen, gentlemen; I've seen this all before. We can't allow ourselves to get caught up in this mob panic, we'll end up massacring each other. What we've got to do to work out what's going on, even find the 'werewolves' you imagine is very simple. We've got to," he spluttered; coughed, "got to..." he threw up, casting blood upon the already filthy floor, fell, and fitted. He kicked the table he was sat at, and his glass of whiskey fell and shattered ominously on his head. What had happened was very clear. He'd been poisoned.
"Good riddance" muttered Fred.

this is the people what are in this game like

TOGS Tom Lobo Butcher
Atmosfear Rick Vulkodlak Baker
Nevrmore Steffan Cobb Cobbler
Mr. E James Castle Candlestick maker
djwolford Fred Flaggons Pub owner
janglez Tim South Bartender
Sudo Luke Kynethrope Bartender
Woofness Hugh Morbach Opium den owner
Mr. Lucifer Neil Ulfhamr University lecturer and general far-too-sodding-clever type staying at monkey's foreskin
LargeDuck Richard Corbett Local Bard, minstrel, entertainer
Coldfyre Ben Trotter Tests out board games for money
Mr. Troy Nick Jones Builder
Thunderdome David Andress Plumber

Night time children. Werewolves: come out, come out, wherever you are

"Well that was convenient."

"Ay jesus christo fred! I hope it wasn't the whole bottle ya poured that poison into! Ya could have killed us all! Not to mention wastin the alchohol!"

*David sits down, not realizing what he's doing and takes a sip of the same bottle, luckily for him it was just Neil's cup that was poisoned*

"Well at least we got that fockin monster. But as the story goes, there's never only one of em. Im going home to be with me family and to load me fockin six shooter."

"Well just because I didn't mind him being the one to go doesn't mean that I poisoned the drink. You know just as well as I do that I would never waste good alcohol. Besides, why would I sabotage my own business like this? Even though I could have done without ever seeing Neil again, it's not exactly in my best interests to kill off a regular customer and both of my bartenders."

Fred steps behind the bar and pours himself a glass of scotch. He drifts off for a second, realizing that he looks very suspicious now. Knowing that he has to take the focus off of himself, he looks over at David.

"You know, you were pretty quick to point a finger at me for this ordeal, and if I recall you and Neil didn't exactly get along all the time either. How do we know that you weren't the one that poisoned him?"

Night and ethereal still descended once more upon the cursed pub. Pacing and watch duties slipping away, nodding; waking; nodding again, lower, lower, stiller, stiller. Silence.
The creak of a stair. Silence.
When David woke up, he was confronted by the visage of Tom, naked, before him. A knife had been stabbed through the bottom of Tom's friendly jaw and out of the top of his head, plunged so hard that it stuck to the rooftop, leaving him dangling there. His torso was a mess of fleshy claw marks and bone, and his legs were mockingly absent; devoured, perhaps.

"Dear God!" cried David "There is truly a Lycan among us"

DAYTIME

this is the people what are in this game like

TOGS Tom Lobo Butcher
Atmosfear Rick Vulkodlak Baker
Nevrmore Steffan Cobb Cobbler
Mr. E James Castle Candlestick maker
djwolford Fred Flaggons Pub owner
janglez Tim South Bartender
Sudo Luke Kynethrope Bartender
Woofness Hugh Morbach Opium den owner
Mr. Lucifer Neil Ulfhamr University lecturer and general far-too-sodding-clever type staying at monkey's foreskin
LargeDuck Richard Corbett Local Bard, minstrel, entertainer
Coldfyre Ben Trotter Tests out board games for money
Mr. Troy Nick Jones Builder
Thunderdome David Andress Plumber

I'm pretty sure spending more that a 24 hours in a pub is unhealthy, Richard thought to himself as he allowed himself a small breakfast swig from his hip flask.

'Damn, empty' He exclaimed.

And I sure as hell don't trust any of the liquor in this place, he thought, looking down at the corpse of Neil.
Sitting up a little from his usual kipping spot on the long bench that ran parallel to the bar he noticed David staring down at something the other side of the pumps, obscured from his sight.

'Any news on getting us out of here Dave?'

Hugh surveyed the grim scene of gore and destruction in the pub, which had not so long ago been a place of warmth and comfort. The villagers sat in uneasy silences, friendly chatter had died along with Tom. Standing up he coughed slightly then raised his voice.

"Evidently Niel's death did not prevent this twisted spree of murders. Whether that is because he was innocent or merely that he had an accomplice is impossible to say. However it seems clear to me that we cannot continue to attempt to remove this threat on a whim, we must have some evidence. I am sure one of you must feel you have more insight into the matter than others, if that be the case then do not hesitate to let us know."

He sat again shaking slightly, had his words helped? Or would the killings continue to be as dangerous at day as they were at night..?

"Damn... poor Tom! My wife sure loved his meat, she just couldn't get enough of it. Too bad I don't have my tools with me, I would get us out of here one way or another."

*looking around*

"Well, were locked in, so we know it was someone in here that is doing this, part animal or not...why don't ya be a man and stand up to your crime!"

Quote:

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Originally Posted by LargeDuck

[I]'Any news on getting us out of here Dave?'

---

"Ay I wish I did mate, but im just as helpless as anyone of you. But as long as we can understand our situation, I think we can get out of this. Nobody knows who the werewolf is...aye? That means none of us can be trusted, be it you or I matey. What we need is a little solidarity. Im gonna find out who this fock is, the fock that got old tom lobo's fockin blood on me!"

"I, for one, will not be sleeping this evening. I'm not gonna be the next to die," Rick says soberly.

"That's the best idea any of us has had, Rick. If we all stay awake until we can get out we'll at least know who the culprit is."

Fred pours another glass of scotch and turns it up, then proceeds to sit down at a small corner table. Within minutes, he is asleep.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by djwolford

"That's the best idea any of us has had, Rick. If we all stay awake until we can get out we'll at least know who the culprit is."

Fred pours another glass of scotch and turns it up, then proceeds to sit down at a small corner table. Within minutes, he is asleep.

---

"Some people sleep rather too easily considering what's happened...and still happening.."

Hugh glanced down at the man, sleeping peacefully

"I say we put an end to Fred before he can argue his case..."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Woofness

"Some people sleep rather too easily considering what's happened...and still happening.."

Hugh glanced down at the man, sleeping peacefully

"I say we put an end to Fred before he can argue his case..."

---

"He does OWN this here pub. Who could be a better culprit than the man who knows every inch and cubby hole of this building. You might be on to something here, anyone else think it of Fred?"

"Wha-what?" Fred said as he looked up from his position at the table. "Yes yes, what you guys said." Fred laid his head back down and began to snore again.

"Well this herd mentality sure is doing us well so far"

Richard piped up, angered by the lack of justice behind any avenue available to him.

"How about pointing the finger at those so eager to point it. Nick, you seem to have all the answers readily available to you. Perhaps you are just eager to keep eyes off your own mysterious actions."

"Hugh sure was quick to point the finger at the weak!" Rick cries out.

"Oh great, now he's gonna kill me tonight for ratting him out," he mutters under his breath.

"Fred? Not good ol matey fred? Always the man to give you a pint at the door? Though i've heard tales about these things, they're always the one's closest to you, and a pint has always been the closest to me..."

"Everyone is pointing fingers, and no one is agreeing. Unanimity is next only to symmetry. Fred must be chosen. Sorry, Fred, but it has to be done. I'm out of opium and my schedule has been broken for over a day now. It has to stop. It is madness. MADNESS!"

Fred gets up from the table once again, having heard what James said.

"Lets think about this logically James, if I had planned to kill you, would I have shared the last of my opium with you? I've been nothing but good and friendly to you guys, and it hurts me to be accused of such things. Not to mention the fact that I've stayed far too drunk to kill anyone. If anyone here is a suspect, it would be Steffan in my opinion, he's been far too quiet through all of this."

Three votes for Fred, everyone else tongue tied?