Lord Panther

The last thing Curtis could remember was a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Everything seemed to be ok as he stood back up. He did find it strange that his mind was so clear. Perhaps the ale had been watered down? No, that wasn't it, it had never been before. He looked around at the crowd, and realized that most were still looking at the floor, where he had fallen. Some with sadness in their eyes, others with an odd look of satisfaction. He looked down to see what they were staring at. To his surprise, he saw himself laying there, motionless. He had the overwhelming urge for a drink, so he reached for the ale tankard on the table, only to have his hand pass right through it. It struck him like a ton of bricks. He was dead. He had been killed. Mobs are so fickle...

Upon seeing Graham wave him over, Curis thought to himself, Sure, why not? Curtis sat down with Graham with a curt smile and began looking around. What a day it had been so far. Most of the town was abuzz with stories of the wolf murder and wondering who it was. The questions of why the werewolf had come here and what did they want with the town ran through his brain. It made it hurt. An ale was set down in front of Curtis, who raised it in a silent toast to his drinking partner and took a hearty swig. Graham seemed to have taken the news quite hard as well. His ramblings were a little more discombobulated than usual. Perhaps after the ale, they should switch to something a little stronger. His mind once again wandered and filled with questions that he would not be able to answer about this newcomer to town. After all, it had to be a relative newcomer, did it not? The ale could not work its magic fast enough... OOC: vote for Azuran / Lord Bartholomew

Curtis as much woke up as he regained consciousness, somewhere near the middle of his meager, dirt floored, house. Lucky for him, he did not have to purchase this abode, as it was passed down to him from his now deceased parents. Seeing sunlight with his still blurry, and definitely bloodshot eyes, he wondered if he truly did need to get up today. A glance over at the empty bottles on the table assured him that indeed he must, as he had to ensure he was able to purchase a few more bottles of his favorite whisky, which quite literally translated to whatever was on sale or the cheapest. With the alternative not available, he takes a drink of water from his stores before heading out to meet the day, however much it hurt his head. Upon leaving his house, he hears something coming from the direction of Bartholomew's estate. Something about buying another round tonight. Curtis makes a mental note to hold that fellow to his word. Curtis decides that he could do a little work today, as only a means to an end, and head off to talk to Tennison and then if needed, Abercrombe, to see if there would be some work today that could line his pockets just a little.

Hhmm, let's see. We'll try this character on for size: Curtis - The town drunk. Not a violent or loud drunk, but a man that always appears to be under the influence of his poison of choice. With his habit, Curtis often finds his pockets rather empty of the coin needed to pay for his pleasure. Often willing to do small menial jobs, nothing stable or long-lasting of course, in order to put a few coins in his aforementioned empty pockets and continue his chosen lifestyle.

Oh, sounds like fun... count me in... more details to follow.

Darn, foiled again by a late reply.... Hello all!

Still interested, just been a little pre-occupied lately... I'll try to get a post up either today or tomorrow.

Thomas didn't much like the lockdown. Made things too orderly for his liking. The inmates were all alone in thier respective cells, no real challenge for him. The shotgun, well, as much as he liked it, it was too efficient for him, the baton was much more to his liking. But none-the-less, he was doing his job the best he knew, even if all the challenge was currently being stripped away. He had, however, seen that Bruce seemed to be enjoying the extra armament, carressing it like one would something they loved. Then again, he did notice that Bruce was an odd one, always muttering to himself, like he was having some kind of internal argument with himself. If he did go crazy, Thomas guessed at least Bruce wouldn't have to take a long trip to get his "help". OOC: vote for Tony.

Thomas made his usual rounds through the hallways, ensuring that everyone was in thier place and not doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. Like trying to escape. But then again, if one of these "patients" tried to escape, Thomas might have something a little more interesting to do than walking the hallways, like capturing them and making sure they never try that again. Thomas still hated that the warden made them call the inmates by the word patients. He'd been around the prison system long enough to know that call them whatever you want, when it comes right down to it, they're inmates, convicts and the like, even the insane ones. Its not like the things they caused were accidents... they did it, and were found to have done it. Inmates... all of them...

Well, guess I should try to throw together a character.... Thomas: Thomas is a guard in the Lupine Asylum. By his own evaluation of himself, he is a good guard. He keeps the inmates in check with his baton and whatever other means he thinks might help him keep things in line. He also feels he is of sound mind, though some might disagree, with his ease of the use of force, and how he does sometimes to even appear to enjoy it. He's not quite sure how he ended up posted at the Asylum, after all, there was a brawl at the last prison he was posted, and it needed to be quelled somehow, right? How was it his fault that the inmate's skulls were so fragile? Despite not necessarily wanting to be at the Asylum, he is determined to do a good job, at least in his mind.

Hmmm, sounds interesting... now to think up a character...

Preston was shocked, as it appeared that most of the town, if not all of it, was with the events of the day. Definately not the norm around here, at least not in recent years. But now that he was at his post behind the bar, Preston had other worries, and as much as he tried, he couldn't quite get the gory images out of his mind. Who would do such a thing? Why would they be here now? Both questions that, with the tavern being so busy, he really should replace in his mind with ones like, Is the kitchen putting the food out fast enough? Is there enough coffee? Is there enough ale? Scanning over the unusually large crowd in the Tavern, Preston decided that indeed his crew was doing well, everyone seemed pleased, despite being on edge over the night's happenings. All was well, at least those things that he had control of under this roof. His mind continued to wander back to the biggest question of all. Who was the killer? OOC: no vote yet.

Preston took stock of the morning happenings and requests in his tavern that was so dear to him. He had worked his whole adult life under its roof, starting in the kitchen, then later moving on to the bar, and finally was able to scratch together the money to buy the place when the previous owner wanted to move on from the business. He listened intently to Millie and her cooking needs, knowing full well that yes, he would get what she needed, as he had managed to land the best cook in the town in his kitchen, therefore he would do what it took to keep her there, after all, business did go up when she joined the team and started putting her delicious food on the tables of his customers. After hearing her list, nodding intently the whole time, Preston turned his head towards Enipul and his bowl of breakfast. "You know I'm right... that coffee is much better with breakfast than any ale or whiskey. Besides, how would you make it through the day if it weren't for Millie's fine cooking here?" "And as for you Jonathan, you know full well that the taps aren't used this early in the day, other than special occasions, and this isn't one! Have yourself some breakfast and a good strong cup of coffee, and we can talk about some ale in a little while." Preston smirked as he informed Jonathan of his situation. "Now, as for your wine, I might have to have a good look and taste of that, see if its up to the standards that I need, and will match whatever Millie is cooking up, delicious as I'm sure it will be. I'm sure we can work out a good deal..." Preston turned to Millie "..And by all means, get the ingredients you need, just be sure to get a good deal on them, ok? I didn't come to owning this place by spending my money all over town..." Preston sat down on his stool on his side of the bar and picked up his mug of coffee which was steaming away, drank and took a deep breath. Ready for another day at his home away from home.

Ok, I'll freely admit that Crypt's character inspired me to choose mine. I will be playing the part of Preston, the town bartender. Being a small town, Preston knows pretty much all his clients by name, especially his biggest customer, Enipul Mai. Preston prides himself in being in the know when it comes to happenings in the town, and is a trusted confident for many of his patrons.

Count me in. I'll think of a character soon.