Game 1Game 1 Outline| Game 1 |
Game 1 Outline |
What are you going to do? The door is about to give and there's obviously nobody at home now. But wait! What's that rustling and grumbling you hear? It draws closer. "Now confoundit, mercy me! What sort of thieves and the like would be rummaging through my house at this hour? Well I suggest you leave, thief, because--" Then, from a door on the right, out steps a tall, thin figure with a staff which you assume must be to aid his walking. He studies you carefully for a moment. At this point, you really don't care who it is, you're just glad someone is there. "Help there's a maniac chasing me and he's at the door and he's gonna get me help you gotta help me!" you shout. "Now just calm down there, oh yes, I...I know you! And I know why you are here," says the old man as he rummages through a trunk and pulls out a small sack. "This should hold the rascal for a moment," he says, as he presses the bag to the door, raps on it lightly with his staff, and whispers "SLEEP". The knocking ceases. You stand dumbfounded, partly relieved, partly scared, but moreso very much confused. The man proceeds to light an oil lamp and sits down in a large brown chair. The armrests were topped with small gargoyle figures, and an olive green book sat to support where one of the legs had broken off. He struck a match and picked up the strange animal-skull cigar. You can see him quite clearly now; he is an old man with a long white beard, wearing a navy blue robe and sandals. He takes a puff of his cigar and closes his eyes. "Now, you're probably wondering who I am, and why you're here, and how I put your little friend into sleep so quickly," he said. 'Well Duh!' You think. But you don't want to be rude; he has magic powers. So, you nod politely and sit on a nearby wooden bench. "My name is Nescent, and I am the wizard in these parts," he states. 'A wizard?' you think. You were never one to believe in that sort of thing, but you remain fairly open to it. "And you are Justin, no doubt." You jump at the sound of your own name. How does he know all this? "How do I know?" he says, as if reading your thoughts. "Well, you were the closest thing around that I could easily change into something to distract that policeman. Otherwise, my men may never have passed." You have no idea what he is talking about, but you continue to nod politely. "Now, shall I put the kettle on and tell you the whole story? Or perhaps you'd like for me to change you back and send you home now," he asks.
Written by BranchistBunny
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