Saturday, October 31, 2009

Somewhere in the South Of England

My name is Hans Velsing, hunter of extraordinary creatures, in particular, a type of were creature called a Forvalaka, rumored to have arrived at a sea port town in the south of England. Shortly after entering the edge of this town things began to go badly indeed......So after running thru the woods till dawn it is only now that I have composed myself enough to assemble my thoughts to attempt to record what occurred last night.

Notice the building in the center of the shot, it is there that crated filled with earthen dirt from France were addressed to be shipped. The miss management of the care of that building left it leaning dangerously such that it needed massive props to keep it upright at all. As the sun set, groups of people were in the streets when, the Full Moon appeared and there was heard much moaning in the wind.
Shambling hordes of Zombies seemed to appear from no where and everywhere forcing me to take cover in a building only to have a wave of rotting flesh pounding thru the door and into the room where I had taken a stand. Summoning up my Piety I unleashed a blast of doom through their ranks, mowing down many and buying myself a brief respite. In this next shot, from upper left, center and right are the Local Constables, a group of American Cowboy adventurers and a sole survivor shop keeper after his handymen had been taken down by Vampire Assistants, spreaders of Zombie smoke clouds.
These groups shot it out with many a zombie, the veritable wave of them shambling back and forth as whims of Brains over came their tiny abilities to home in on the living. Slowly, even for zombies, they reduced the Cowboys to a sole survivor who time after time managaed to hold off certain death, time to do what he had to ...... finish consuming the entire bottle of Red Eye Whiskey. The Shop keeper fared no better, even though he did manage to mix in with the zombies for a bit, shambling along with them, till..... his screams rang thru the darkness....

Here the towns Judge is being overwhelmed by Thosts , then zombies and Vampire Assistants.  His Butler did a stand up job dispatching one after the other, while the Judge wrung his hands and worried over the property destruction all about him, especially his manor house. Shortly after seeing this, the next picture shows what I had to undergo; crashing through the brush and trees to a different local, dispatching Zombies to the left and to the right as I went.
It seems 2 very power undead creatures had a wedding date in the Graveyard.

Where  the Bride had mentally overpowered the local Priest, so as to force him to perform the ceremony, while all about the remainder of the town, anyone who had not vacated, was soon being converted over to the darker side.

I survived only by the speed of my feet as it turns out, the Were creature simply eliminated the men of Torchwood, and the remainder of the Judge and his Butler.  Now, finally we see a closing picture of the host of the game / grand encounter master, Skrapwelder in the Stovepipe hat. Next to him is Leadfool who had the honor of commanding the Judge to the most spectacular end that I witnessed that evening, surrounded by Ghosts, Vampires, Zombies and the Forvalaka.

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