Werewolf XLII, Mist in the Barrow Downs - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Gwathagor · 01-31-2008, 09:42 PM

Is this where we sign up?

satansaloser2005 · 01-31-2008, 09:57 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Gwathagor

Is this where we sign up?

"Ah, it is our friend Gwathagor, bringer of rhetorical questions," said Sally with a laugh. "Yes, my dear friend, if you think you are able to handle a task such as this Werewolf game, you shall notify our mod-gods Farael and Roa at this location. Might I suggest you bring an offering of sarcasm or silly banter to please them?"

OOC note: you all KNOW my duck's a-coming back in this game, right? Because I didn't do her justice in the last game.

Gwathagor · 01-31-2008, 10:25 PM

Gwathagor ShadowBlade, Scourge of the North, Defender of Truth, Terror to the Lawless, Friend to the Fatherless and the Oppressed was sick and tired. Despite being a level 41 Ninja-Elf (Sign: Thief, Class: Scout, Guild: Warrior), who could do 1,305 damage to all enemies (save the Grand Half-Orc Claw-of-Doom-bearing Wizard of the Fourth-and-a-Quarter Dungeon) within a 30-foot x D20 radius with his favored Sword of the Godly Winds ability, he found himself bored. In addition to be being bored, he had a stuffy nose. He had just slain 3 armies of 500 and their gryphotaur captains on an unspecified hill-top, and had sat down to catch his breath, when he discovered that he wasn't having fun anymore.

The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He wiped his nose. Sniff.

"What am I doing here? Am I really happy? Did I miss my true calling? Is this a mid-life crisis? Hold on....I'm immortal, that's impossible. I don't have a mid-life."

This wasn't strictly true. ShadowBlade was not an elf; he only played one in D&D.

One of the abject gryphotaur minions was still alive. He leapt up and ran at ShadowBlade with a blood-curdling screech. Absent-mindedly, Gwathagor ShadowBlade flung his Battle-Axe of Cold Northern Death 100 feet or so, splitting the beast cleanly in two.

"I need a holiday," he declared.

However, he only thing his travel agent could find was a Werewolf game taking place in the Barrow-Downs. He packed immediately, and caught the nearest stagecoach to the Downs, ignoring several pleas for help along the way.

He thought it would be fun.

He had no idea it would be dangerous.

[Note: I prefer to be referred to as Gwathagor, BUT if you INSIST on finding something shorter, then I will settle for Gwath, as that seems to be a common truncation of the full name. As long as you don't call me Gwathy, we can be friends.]

satansaloser2005 · 01-31-2008, 10:43 PM

Suddenly Sally realized what she had signed herself up for, and she momentarily considered withdrawing from her obligation. "Such a strange event, to play a game where the players hunt each other at night, and lynch each other at sunset! A game where the object is to murder other players viciously without a second thought as to their feelings, ambitions, or lives outside the situation." Sally paused a bit to reflect upon her thoughts. "Sounds like Christmas with my kinsmen at home," she admitted flatly.

Sally turned around to see Gwath arriving across the way. "Interesting, another victim, erm, I mean player. Nice to meet you." Sally extended her hand to Gwath, but he stood motionless, save for his eyes darting around the Barrow-Downs, taking in that which surrounded them both. "Are you all right, sir? You seem shaken up. This is the Barrow-Downs, host site for our game of Werewolf. Does the scenery surprise you?"

Gwath's bags dropped to the ground, and Sally hastily picked them up for him, noting that he seemed to have packed lightly for such an adventure, and led him to the nearest place to sit. "Here, sit down, rest awhile. Would you like something to-" Gwath finally spoke to her. Only three words, but after hearing them Sally knew it was okay to leave Gwath to his own devices. "This....This....," stammered Gwath. "What is it?" probed Sally. Gwath looked her square in the eye and replied, "This....is....AWESOME!"

OOC note: yeah, I'm too lazy to type it all out. Tried ShadowBlade for a post since it was in yours, but still too much

01-31-2008, 09:42 PM	#1
Gwathagor Shade with a Blade Join Date: Aug 2007 Location: A Rainy Night In Soho Posts: 2,512	Is this where we sign up? __________________ Stories and songs.

01-31-2008, 10:25 PM	#3
Gwathagor Shade with a Blade Join Date: Aug 2007 Location: A Rainy Night In Soho Posts: 2,512	Gwathagor ShadowBlade, Scourge of the North, Defender of Truth, Terror to the Lawless, Friend to the Fatherless and the Oppressed was sick and tired. Despite being a level 41 Ninja-Elf (Sign: Thief, Class: Scout, Guild: Warrior), who could do 1,305 damage to all enemies (save the Grand Half-Orc Claw-of-Doom-bearing Wizard of the Fourth-and-a-Quarter Dungeon) within a 30-foot x D20 radius with his favored Sword of the Godly Winds ability, he found himself bored. In addition to be being bored, he had a stuffy nose. He had just slain 3 armies of 500 and their gryphotaur captains on an unspecified hill-top, and had sat down to catch his breath, when he discovered that he wasn't having fun anymore. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He wiped his nose. Sniff. "What am I doing here? Am I really happy? Did I miss my true calling? Is this a mid-life crisis? Hold on....I'm immortal, that's impossible. I don't have a mid-life." This wasn't strictly true. ShadowBlade was not an elf; he only played one in D&D. One of the abject gryphotaur minions was still alive. He leapt up and ran at ShadowBlade with a blood-curdling screech. Absent-mindedly, Gwathagor ShadowBlade flung his Battle-Axe of Cold Northern Death 100 feet or so, splitting the beast cleanly in two. "I need a holiday," he declared. However, he only thing his travel agent could find was a Werewolf game taking place in the Barrow-Downs. He packed immediately, and caught the nearest stagecoach to the Downs, ignoring several pleas for help along the way. He thought it would be fun. He had no idea it would be dangerous. [Note: I prefer to be referred to as Gwathagor, BUT if you INSIST on finding something shorter, then I will settle for Gwath, as that seems to be a common truncation of the full name. As long as you don't call me Gwathy, we can be friends.] __________________ Stories and songs. Last edited by Gwathagor; 01-31-2008 at 10:30 PM.

01-31-2008, 10:43 PM	#4
satansaloser2005 The Sweetest Spoiler Join Date: Nov 2007 Location: from beneath you it giggles incessantly Posts: 5,789	Suddenly Sally realized what she had signed herself up for, and she momentarily considered withdrawing from her obligation. "Such a strange event, to play a game where the players hunt each other at night, and lynch each other at sunset! A game where the object is to murder other players viciously without a second thought as to their feelings, ambitions, or lives outside the situation." Sally paused a bit to reflect upon her thoughts. "Sounds like Christmas with my kinsmen at home," she admitted flatly. Sally turned around to see Gwath arriving across the way. "Interesting, another victim, erm, I mean player. Nice to meet you." Sally extended her hand to Gwath, but he stood motionless, save for his eyes darting around the Barrow-Downs, taking in that which surrounded them both. "Are you all right, sir? You seem shaken up. This is the Barrow-Downs, host site for our game of Werewolf. Does the scenery surprise you?" Gwath's bags dropped to the ground, and Sally hastily picked them up for him, noting that he seemed to have packed lightly for such an adventure, and led him to the nearest place to sit. "Here, sit down, rest awhile. Would you like something to-" Gwath finally spoke to her. Only three words, but after hearing them Sally knew it was okay to leave Gwath to his own devices. "This....This....," stammered Gwath. "What is it?" probed Sally. Gwath looked her square in the eye and replied, "This....is....AWESOME!" OOC note: yeah, I'm too lazy to type it all out. Tried ShadowBlade for a post since it was in yours, but still too much __________________ "My heart always cowers behind the defense of my wit." Friendship is two pals munching on a well-cooked face together. Fenris bookworm. Last edited by satansaloser2005; 01-31-2008 at 10:47 PM. Reason: typo hehe. and the p.s. i seem to like those today.