There was no finer place to live than Woodford. That's what any of the small village's inhabitants would tell you. It was a quiet little town situated on a small river that spilled out into a calm lake abundant with fish. The town was separated into two parts divided by the river and connected by a beautifully crafted stone bridge that was the pride of the village. On the West side of the bridge closest to the water lay several modest but well kept homes, with farm houses scattered about the countryside farther out. The homes in Woodford were places of comfort and family, always warm looking and inviting with smoke rising from chimneys and attractive gardens both decorative and functional. There were docks scattered about here and there, both on the river and the lake, where one could see many small fishing boats. Over the bridge, on the East side, there were more homes, though these were slightly larger and arranged into rough approximations of city blocks. Here also were the majority of the shops and workshops of the town's merchants and craftsmen. In the center of it all was the market square, paved with dull grey cobblestones that had seen the wear of many decades. Here was where temporary stalls were set up by farmers, and traveling merchants who didn't require permanent establishments. Among the shops that ringed the square stood a single inn whose bottom level was also a tavern called the Weary Warrior.
The people of Woodford were of a kindly and generous sort. Their lives were simple and relaxed, and this made the majority of them a cheerful lot. It was not strange at all for random festivals to spring up in the square, or for groups of men and women laugh and drink and sing in the tavern until well into the wee hours of the morning. Children could always be seen playing; in the square, by the river and lake, and on the outskirts of the village in the woods, never straying too far. Even the elderly of the village were lively in their way. Always willing to tell anecdotes and tall tales to children and travelers. Yes, Woodford was a fine place to live.
That didn't stop everyone from dying.
__________
Your Character: You will play an inhabitant of Woodford, going about your daily life on the eve of an invasion by creatures you can barely comprehend. You will watch as they cut down your friends and family. They will show no mercy to women or children. They will burn and ravage everything within their sight. You will be terrified. You may even be injured. But for whatever reason, even though the beasts are slaying men like cattle, you will make a choice. You will choose to fight. To drive these things from the home you once loved, to destroy their kind as they destroyed yours.
The Enemy: The enemies you are about to face are horrors the likes of which you have never seen. Although their physical appearance varies greatly, some constant themes are exposed bone, overlarge fangs dripping with saliva or venom, rippling muscle beneath thick hide tough enough to stop a dagger's blade, and fiercely hungry eyes. Most walk on four legs, though some walk on two like a man. The latter are often more powerful and intelligent than the others.
Magic: Magic does exist in this realm. However, it is a rare and ancient thing that few mortals dare attempt to manipulate. As such none of your characters have access to it right off the bat. Don't worry though, you will.
The people of Woodford were of a kindly and generous sort. Their lives were simple and relaxed, and this made the majority of them a cheerful lot. It was not strange at all for random festivals to spring up in the square, or for groups of men and women laugh and drink and sing in the tavern until well into the wee hours of the morning. Children could always be seen playing; in the square, by the river and lake, and on the outskirts of the village in the woods, never straying too far. Even the elderly of the village were lively in their way. Always willing to tell anecdotes and tall tales to children and travelers. Yes, Woodford was a fine place to live.
That didn't stop everyone from dying.
__________
Your Character: You will play an inhabitant of Woodford, going about your daily life on the eve of an invasion by creatures you can barely comprehend. You will watch as they cut down your friends and family. They will show no mercy to women or children. They will burn and ravage everything within their sight. You will be terrified. You may even be injured. But for whatever reason, even though the beasts are slaying men like cattle, you will make a choice. You will choose to fight. To drive these things from the home you once loved, to destroy their kind as they destroyed yours.
The Enemy: The enemies you are about to face are horrors the likes of which you have never seen. Although their physical appearance varies greatly, some constant themes are exposed bone, overlarge fangs dripping with saliva or venom, rippling muscle beneath thick hide tough enough to stop a dagger's blade, and fiercely hungry eyes. Most walk on four legs, though some walk on two like a man. The latter are often more powerful and intelligent than the others.
Magic: Magic does exist in this realm. However, it is a rare and ancient thing that few mortals dare attempt to manipulate. As such none of your characters have access to it right off the bat. Don't worry though, you will.
