A wizened old man beckons at you to come forward.
''Gather round forumites. Do you want to hear a tale of heroism and gallant knights? Well we can't be having that! We will have a tale of the common criminal and their story. Whether through dastardly means or through that pathetic code of chivalry shall they rise in this world or find their grave. Look below into this pool of water and we shall watch decide their faith.''
Below a pool of water swirls, at first showing a blurry image and finally crystallising into a view of a forest.
''Ah, the realms of Sudarn. More specifically the Kingdom of Ieche, recently liberated from its tyrant king by his third cousin twice removed. Wait, I think it was actually his second cousin three times removed or it could have been his uncle, I'm not entirely sure. Ah, it doesn't matter what does matter is that he's pushing a more tolerant viewpoint, more rights for the fay-folk, night creatures, magic users, so on and so forth. Made him downright unpopular in certain areas. There are those on both sides who want Hold on I'm rambling, aren't I? Let us begin.''
The old man snaps his fingers. Smoky green tendrils pour out of the pool and surge towards the crowd.
''The best story is one you can feel what the character feels, taste what they tastes, touch what they touches, hear what they hear and smell what they smell. The best thing is not even realising you're in a story.''
The old man grins as the tendrils attach themselves to your faces. That is the last thing you see before you fall unconscious.
You are walking through the Boneyard with your. A strange name, the Boneyard, for the forest that is as beautiful as can be. You are heading to the cottage you think will be uninhabited. There may be some valuables inside which you can steal and fence to pay off your debt to the Blood and Iron Guild. You go around to the back window and use your club to lever it open. You climb through the window and lower yourself gently to the floor. You walk into the kitchen and there is an old woman and a wolfman sitting there, enjoying a mug of tea. The wolfman has his back turned but the old woman stares at you in fright. You suddenly feel self-conscious. Who are you? What do you look like?
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Topic: What really happened that day. (SG) (Read 4133 times)