Zombie Apocalypse - Game thread

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Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

As he pushed the tiny car up to 60 mph, Bernard glanced in the rear-view mirror and saw a huge, monstrous mass of fused bodies roll like fleshy tumbleweed out of an alley and into the main street.

Holy mother of god!

Though he was driving full tilt along a road that was littered with abandoned vehicles and assorted other wreckage that demanded his attention, he couldn't take his eyes off the gruesome spectacle in the mirror. His horror mounted as he caught sight of Jack within reach of the creature. Bernard was about to wrench the car around and drive back help when his coward's instincts chipped in.

What could you do to help him? You can't hit anything with that revolver at the best of times; with a hangover, you're as likely to shoot Jack as the monster.

His self-doubt seized on this thread of memory with grotesque glee.

Remember the man in the hospital? Remember trying to do him a favour? Rem--

The taunting of his anti-conscience was abruptly cut off as Max sprang up from the rear foot well (So that's where he went...) and screamed. "THE BUS! THE BUS!"

Bernard dragged his eyes from the mirror to the road ahead just in time to spot a large silver-blue bus lying forgotten directly in their path. Desperately, he hauled the wheel to the right and swerved around the obstacle, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision.

"Damn. Damn, damn, damn," he muttered as the bus receded behind the little car. He glanced once more at the rear-view mirror to see if Jack had got away, but the bus blocked his view.

Good luck, he thought, and tried to ignore the prickly swell of shame. He began to add I'm sorry but stopped himself. You couldn't have helped him. Really, you couldn't. Really...

Bernard drove on, weaving among the toppled masonry and scattered vehicles, trying to avoid looking at the mirror; trying to avoid seeing Max staring forlornly out of the rear window at the bus, beyond which their ally - their friend - Jack Frost stood against the Creeping Abomination. Alone.
Last edited by Bernard Black on Fri Mar 09, 2007 11:37 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Oh. Bugger.
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Mistress Cathy
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

Jove Jones drives to the Prison from the Docks, and attacks undead. She fails to kill any zombies. No undead reach him.
Did I have a sex change operation between the docks and the prison? :wink: :lol:
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Post by Father Stoobins »

So he really DID get kicked out.....

Too bad. He's a nice guy. For a politician. Sort of.


Frost turns back to his work thinking thourouhly about all this new info. he squeezed out of Black. He felt fairly good, almost like a spy. Jack Frost, Private Eye. Heh.

Jack turned back to the zombies coming in through the side streets of their base. He took Toasty off of his shoulder, and started in on the zombies, laughing a little everytime flaming brains weploded from the skulls from the pressure buil-ups. So absorbed was he in his work that the wall of flesh moving towards him made little effect on his concious mind.

He paused.

It was his last.

As the rolling planet of zombie and plant flesh fell unto him, the only thing concerned in his mind was,

What smells like hot-dogs?
I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book. Grouch Marx
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Erkirithi-Sha
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Post by Erkirithi-Sha »

Well, if it wasn't enough that hordes of the living dead were trying to kill us, we've got a couple of maniacs taking potshots too . . . I should have just stayed adrift after I threw Frank overboard. At least then I might have been able to sit this whole crises out.

Joe shook the last of the gore from his mower. A mangled dispersion of limbs, gibbets of skull, and hunks of meat dripped from the corridor around him.

I might not have a garden, but I'll never go anywhere without one of these things again.

Looking for Jove and Alex, Joe called them over. "This prison looks pretty much ideal to try and sit this thing out, dont'cha think? If those nuts try and come this way, we could probably hold out a lot easier. O' course," he hefts the sniper rifle from his shoulder, "this thing'll give us an advantage if they even move into one of the blocks near this section o' the city. I'm for mopping up the rest of these dead, and making a base here, meself".
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Post by Bernard Black »

Ugh. Prisons are pretty dingy. I don't know what I thought I'd find here...

Hearing voices from a neighbouring corridor, Bernard decided at once to follow the sound. He was still unexpectedly troubled by Jack's presumed death; he felt the need for solace, for someone to throw some vitriol at to relieve the tension, and Max was far too unhinged to make a useful target.

With the hobo trudging aimlessly behind, Bernard rounded a corner and confronted the source of the voices. One, in particular, looked distressingly familiar.

"Oh god," he groaned. "You."
Oh. Bugger.
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

Well, if it wasn't enough that hordes of the living dead were trying to kill us, we've got a couple of maniacs taking potshots too . . . I should have just stayed adrift after I threw Frank overboard. At least then I might have been able to sit this whole crises out.
Jove had heard the gun shots as well. Shit! With her luck, it was probably that Black fellow gone crazy. The idiot probably found a gun and now thinks he's Rambo! She really did not want to have to deal with him again. She had been over run by zombies and had to flee. She doubted she had killed any of them...

Hey, Western.... Jones....

She heard Joe's voice calling. He had made it! Voices. Alex must be here too. Good.

She followed the voices and found Alex and Joe. Joe was breathless and covered head to foot in zombie muck. He proudly held the handle of his lawnmower in front of him.
"This prison looks pretty much ideal to try and sit this thing out, dont'cha think? If those nuts try and come this way, we could probably hold out a lot easier. O' course," he hefts the sniper rifle from his shoulder, "this thing'll give us an advantage if they even move into one of the blocks near this section o' the city. I'm for mopping up the rest of these dead, and making a base here, meself".
"Yes, I agree. I've come prepared." Jove checked the ammo in the rifle. "Let's find a safe place to set up a base camp. I want to be able to see anything coming at us. We will have to build barriers as well. Does that sound ..."

They heard footsteps coming from behind Jove. Jove spun around and was face to face with Bernard Black.

Black looked as if he had seen a zombie.

"You," Black said.

Jove smirked. How had he managed to stay alive?
Bernard Black
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Post by Bernard Black »

Look at her, smirking at me like my survival is funny. I should wipe that smirk off her face.

Yeah, because that approach proved so successful last time. You berk, Bernie.


"Well. I didn't expect to see you here."

He paused, clenched his teeth, and tried to settle on a course of action.

I need a drink. Maybe...

No. You're not asking her for a drink. Not her.


A movement caught Bernard's eye, and he noticed Alex Western was still tagging along with Jove. That might give him an avenue. He forced his eyes back to Jove.

"Have you got--" Stop it! "Er.....I mean....I just saw a man get squashed by a giant zombie-ball of doom. He was a good guy, if a little unhygienic." Max, behind, gave a yelp of protest at this slight to all hobokind, but Bernard's attention was elsewhere. He continued, loudly and deliberately, flicking his gaze back and forth between Jones and Western to catch any reaction to this news. How much did Western know? And how much of whatever Western knew did Jove know?

"A huge clot of dead bodies, roaming around the city, sucking stuff up. Feeding on the scum. Makes the bog-standard rotting bugger look like Ronald McDonald.
Know anything about it?"

Eyes on Western...eyes on Jove...
Oh. Bugger.
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variol son
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Post by variol son »

"She's coming then, and coming fast by the sound of it. Baracades might keep his friends out" here Alex Western gestured at Black, "but they probably won't keep her busy for too long." Marlowe groaned, and Jove looked like she could use a good stiff drink. The politicians news wasn't something any of them had wanted to hear.

It was one of the first things Western had said in days. Lack of sleep had taken its toll - his skin was pale, almost grey, and the bags under his eyes were dark. He barely spoke to his companions anymore, not unless it was necessary. Otherwise he just watched their backs, trusted them to watch his, and did his best to keep from dying.

None of this could change the wariness of his gaze however. Western may have been close to death, but he was far from beaten.

A good nights sleep would have worked wonders of course, but he had abondoned all hope of such a thing the day after he had told Jove about Amy Miller. Sharing his story had seemed to lift a burden from his heart at the time, but it had only brought the dreams back ten-fold.

Not dreams of Amy though. He didn't need to dream to sense her - the whole of Watch City reeked of her presence. No, now the dreams saw him running through Watch City High, its hallways piled with corpses, while a voice pleaded with him to stop. The voice of a young woman.

Not Amy, at least he didn't think so. He would never forget her voice. But if not her then who? Even though he needed sleep more than anything else in the world, Western realised that he didn't actually want to find out.

"We could always leave him here for her and take off" he said to the others. "I'm not too sure about having him around again anyway. He's not a bad guy, as far as it goes, and I don't think he's naturally malicious. His friends did just try to shoot one of us however, so you never know."

He turned back to face Black, as did Jove and Marlowe. Your move, Mr Black.
You do not hear, and so you cannot be redeemed.

In the name of their ancient pride and humiliation, they had made commitments with no possible outcome except bereavement.

He knew only that they had never striven to reject the boundaries of themselves.
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

"She's coming then, and coming fast by the sound of it. Baracades might keep his friends out" here Alex Western gestured at Black, "but they probably won't keep her busy for too long." Marlowe groaned, and Jove looked like she could use a good stiff drink. The politicians news wasn't something any of them had wanted to hear.
Jove was surprised that Alex had broken his silence, but she did not let it show. He had been so quiet since the night he told her his story. Jove knew he was a tortured soul and there was nothing she could do to help him, other than keep him alive.

Boy, she needed a scotch! Perhaps one of the inmates had made a still.. By the looks of it, Alex needed one too. Hey boys, belly up to the bar! Jove's buying the first round. She wished it were true. A few good stiff belts of whiskey would give Alex a much needed night of dreamless sleep. Actually, they could use whiskey to kill infection, couldn't they?

Jove brought her wandering mind back to the present. She could tell that Black had been through the ringer. His eyes were red and watery, his hair completely knotted. His clothing was askew and covered with muck. On the other hand, he looked no worse for wear than the rest of them.

Yet, he had survived the abomination. He was resourceful, there was no doubt about that, and she would have preferred to have him on her side. But that was impossible now. She had seen him at his worst and she could not jeopardize the rest of the group. He could go off at any minute over some imagined wrongdoing and shoot them all.
"We could always leave him here for her and take off" he said to the others. "I'm not too sure about having him around again anyway. He's not a bad guy, as far as it goes, and I don't think he's naturally malicious. His friends did just try to shoot one of us however, so you never know."
Alex looked at Joe and then at her. She and Alex had been partners since the beginning and she was not prepared to let him down. Something told her that it was her job to protect Alex because he was the key to this whole thing.

Alex looked back to Black -
Your move, Mr Black.
Content to let Alex and Bernard banter, Jove looked back to Bernard and waited for him to respond....
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Post by Bernard Black »

Bernard involuntarily bared his teeth as Western spoke. So I was right. He does know something about this - quite a lot, by the sound of it. His stomach lurched and a vague light-headedness gripped him as his emotions struggled to come to terms with this confirmation. Anger and hope vied for dominance, and the struggle seemed to do nothing more than sap Bernard's strength.

Still wrestling with himself, he turned his eyes back to Jove, and he couldn't help glaring.

"We've had our disagreements in the past...and frankly I'm happy to keep it that way. You made it clear last time that you don't trust me, and the feeling is entirely mutual. I''ll be delighted to keep away from you as long as you return the favour."

He paused for a steadying breath before continuing. Threats didn't come easily to him. Sincere ones, at least.

As he began to speak again, he found it took an effort of will to keep his gaze on Jove; his eyes kept flinching away as though directed by his shame. The shame of fleeing from Jack's death.

But the same shame that burned his cheeks also burned in his stomach and his chest and his mind. Jack had treated him like a friend - more than this rabble of sanctimonious vigilantes had ever attempted. The shame of Jack's lonely demise demanded this parting ultimatum, and it was this pressure that kept Bernard's eyes fixed on Jove despite his ingrained cowardice.

"I'll just say this before I leave you to your business:
"You're travelling with a man who knows more about this than anyone, and something tells me he might even know how to stop it. Maybe I'm right, or maybe not, but I warn you: if your...associate...Mr Western can do something to stop this nightmare - to bring some kind of peace to the memory of the only friend I've made out here - he'd better do it. If anything, anything, I find out makes me believe he can fight this and he doesn't, I will come for him. Too much has been lost......too.............too much of everything."

Bernard whirled and stalked away, but paused after a few steps. He turned back to Jove and flung his glare of shame and rage at her for a moment longer.

"I know what you think of me. But this isn't an idle threat, for the first time in my life. I will come for him...and I will go through you if I have to. Maybe that'll kill me, but what the hell do I have to live for anymore?"

Turning his back again, he stormed away, and his stomach churned with nausea at the magnitude of his words, and the unprecedented sincerity behind them.
Oh. Bugger.
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

Bernard whirled and stalked away, but paused after a few steps. He turned back to Jove and flung his glare of shame and rage at her for a moment longer.
Jove could feel the heat in is glare and the venom in his voice as he said,
"I know what you think of me. But this isn't an idle threat, for the first time in my life. I will come for him...and I will go through you if I have to. Maybe that'll kill me, but what the hell do I have to live for anymore?"
As he stalked away, Jove jeered, "Nothing at all."

She raised the rifle and aimed at Black's back. Her gaze was sure and her hand steady.

She squeezed the trigger....
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

...and intentionally missed.

The bullet would whiz past Black's shoulder just close enough to his ear, as a bee buzzing.

As Black jumped out of his skin, Jove could not help but laugh. But, it was a sick laugh, full of joy at nearly murdering another human being. She liked the power that Black gave her. He was an easy target for her. Like a child who would pull the wings off of a butterfly, Black was her bug.

What Alex and Joe thought, she did not care. She was sick of this bullshit and was not about to take any nonsense from this worm.

"Get out of my sight, Black. If I see you again, I will shoot to kill. That is my final warning."
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Post by Erkirithi-Sha »

Joe almost jumped himself when Jove fired the gun. For a moment, he expected to see the other guy - Black? - hit the concrete.

I always knew coppers were trigger happy. Still, nothing to do with me . . .

"Who was that guy? He looked like a bum, or something".

Speaking of hobos - Joe looked down at his gore-smacked clothes - I think it's time to find the prison showers. At least it won't matter now if someone drops the soap . . .
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Post by variol son »

"Apparently he's a politician, although I don't think he's ever actually won an election."

Western sighed and walked to the window to watch Black drive away. You're a brave man Bernard Black, he thought to himself. Brave, and foolish. What makes you think anyone can fight this?

Yet later on, when he had finally surrendered to fatigue and decided to take a quick nap, he found that the politician's words had intruded on his dreams.

If anything, anything, I find out makes me believe he can fight this and he doesn't, I will come for him. Too much has been lost......too.............too much of everything.

Rather than drowning it out the pleading female voice however, Black's rage seemed to enhance it, bringing it right to the edge of understanding. If only it was a little louder, his hearing a little better, he could make out what she was saying.

Western tossed in his sleep as the dream grew stronger, overwhelming his mental defences. "Stop? Stop what? I don't get it. Stop what?"
You do not hear, and so you cannot be redeemed.

In the name of their ancient pride and humiliation, they had made commitments with no possible outcome except bereavement.

He knew only that they had never striven to reject the boundaries of themselves.
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

"Who was that guy? He looked like a bum, or something".
Jove was suddenly so tired. "We have met up with him before. He is a bit of a loose cannon."
Apparently he's a politician, although I don't think he's ever actually won an election."
Jove almost laughed again at Alex's comment. Black was probably the worst politician she had ever met, and she had met quite a few. The difference with Black was that he was a coward. But, at least he was an honest coward which was more than she could say for the other beaurocrats she had known. Most of the politicians of Watch City had been crooked, vain, empty, selfish bigots.

Jove turned to Joe. He was looking at her in a strange way. "We tried to help him and he turned on us. He was convinced that Alex was "evil." Jove made the quotation sign in the air when she used the word evil. "Bernard Black would have ended up killing us all. He is irresponsible and illogical - like a child who has found his father's gun and is showing it off to his friends. He is probably better off on his own. That way, he only has himself to worry about."

She could still see the strange look in Joe's eyes. She'd seen that look before. But, that didn't matter now....

"Don't worry. That is the second opportunity I have had to kill him and the second time I let him go. Both times he has threatened us. But, I won't let him do it again. I won't let him jeopardize any one in this group. My only interest is to get us out of Watch City to safety. I want to live. I know Alex wants to live. I am pretty sure that you want to live too. If we stick together we can help each other."
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Post by Bernard Black »

The engine roared as Bernard's car careered along the street, his foot pressed to the floor. He was unheeding of the reckless speed of his driving, or the obstacles he narrowly missed by chance alone. He could see nothing through the blur of fury that clouded his eyes.

She had laughed at him. He'd finally spoken words he meant, said something he cared about...and she had laughed. The scream of the engine as he pushed it blindly to its limits was drowned out by the echo of Jove's laughter, and all he could see, lurking incorporeally before his eyes, overlaying the view through the windscreen, was her face.

It was too much. The remembered sound chipped away at his inner walls until they cracked and gave. Jove's laughter, sadistic and superior, sounded so much like all the other laughter he'd heard before. The images, long sealed away behind dams of sarcasm and bitterness, erupted back into his mind's eye, and he couldn't stop them anymore. The years of trying; walking the streets of the unforgiving city over and over and over, until he knew them better than he knew his wife. Years of contempt; the spit in his eye, the pamphlet he'd painstakingly crafted for five hours on his computer, crumpled up and dropped on the ground - or worse, thrown back at him. The scorn, the derision, as each election result came in, and the sick sinking feeling as the bottom of the list came and he began to know, again, whose name would be there... That sinking feeling that never sank him far enough, never quite out of sight. The humiliation. School reunions, confronting classmates with their BMWs and five-bedroom houses, their rewarding jobs and fulfilled dreams. "Still at it, eh, Bernard?"..."Still plugging away at the politics?"..."Never mind, chin up"...the platitudes, the smirks, the sneers.

The laughter.

Again and again, the mocking laughter at Bernard the loser, Bernard the failure...Bernard the joke.

And now her too. She laughed, and she mocked, and she played with him like he didn't matter.

He didn't notice the abandoned car that took off his wing mirror as he scraped by it. He didn't hear the sound. Abruptly, the anger was gone, and now all he could see was the murky stain of the tears he'd never allowed; all he could feel was the gaping, raw wound of rejection and humiliation he'd plastered over, so many times, but never been able to heal. Never been able to face.

She laughed.

She laughed.

The tears fell, and still she laughed.

And the grief was too much. Through the mire of pain that threatened to drown him, a thread of salvation appeared. Years of defeat were suddenly opposed by as many years of belligerent refusal. The pain throbbed within him like imminent death, but old bitterness twisted it into new shapes. The long years of turning his enemies' weapons against them stamped their authority on his heart. Resentment flared; vitriol and sarcasm swelled and took hold. The Bernard Black Jove knew began to return - but this time, scarred and battered by memories of scorn. Hardened. Changed.

She laughed.

Bernard's face grew taut and a feral snarl twisted his mouth into a parody of humanity. Pain mutated back into rage, and his breathing grew harsh and forced as it clogged his throat.

Rage.

Rage.

She laughed at Bernard, as so many had laughed before...but now the rules had changed. No more grin and bear it. No more chin up. No more brave face.

The world had changed, and the old conventions need not apply.
Oh. Bugger.
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

Jove woke up with a start. She had been dreaming of Bernard. She had been covered in his blood and the abomination came to devour her. It thought she was a zombie but she was sure that if she could convince it that she was still alive, it would leave her alone.

She was sweating and breathless. Alex had stared at her when she woke, without a word gauged whether she was sane or not, then returned to his own internal dialogue. He did not seem too concerned with her nightmare. Well, that was alright. It was just a dream after all. Nothing to be concerned with. She had not killed Black and the abomination was not there. Jove tried to cool off, taking deep breaths and smoothing her hair. She took it out of the pony tail that she usually wore and ran her fingers through her hair. Her hair was dirty and she needed a bath.

With great timing, Marlowe was just returning from the showers.

“Next,” he said as he parked his lawnmower against a wall and sat down. He shook his hair out and continued to dry off with his shirt. Jove watched him, watched as he dried his torso with his shirt, and realized how long it had been since she had been with a man. Too long! Not that she found Marlowe even remotely attractive but when you aren’t getting any – well, just about anyone looks good.

Marlowe caught her looking at him and Jove quickly looked away. She stood and said, “I’ll go.” Alex made no indication that he had heard her. Marlowe smirked.

Jove didn’t like taking a shower without the privacy of a locked door. The men were in the other room and she did not worry that they would look. She just felt exposed somehow. She tried to shake the feeling off.

She stepped up to the sink and looked in the glass that served as a mirror. It was scarred with graffiti and so distorted her features somewhat. She took off her utility belt, laid it on the sink in front of her, and looked at her reflection again. She was not a bad looking woman - blonde hair and blue eyes, tall and shapely. She had been called beautiful and she got her fair share of appreciative looks by men. Really, she thought she was pretty average looking. She was in very good shape and it showed. She had guns for biceps and had worked out religiously to get them that way. As she undressed, she scrutinized every part of her body, as most women do. She was looking for that first sag, that first wrinkle. She had done a good job keeping age at bay. At 38 years old, she had a body that most younger women would envy. She was not bulky like a body builder but she was athletic, lithe, lean.

She picked up her gun and placed it close to the shower where she could reach it. The faucet made a squeaking noise when she turned it but soon water came running out warm at first but then turned hot as she adjusted the temperature. Ah, the hot water felt good. She let it run over her shoulders and ease some of the tension there. There was truly healing powers in water, she thought, that it could provide such relaxation in such a stressful situation.

As she tried to clean herself without soap, she found that her thoughts moved to Bernard Black. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She had handled that last meeting poorly. She should not have laughed. What had gotten into her? That was so unlike her. Why did she have so much contempt for Black? Because he is dangerous and doesn’t care about anything but himself! He is foolish and would kill you, Jove.

That was probably true. But this was not the time for an ethics lesson or morality training. This was a matter of life and death and Jove could not afford to have a live wire like Black making trouble for everyone. She hoped that she did not run into him again. She was sure that she would have to kill him. She did not want to do that.

She continued to wash herself and tried to reason away the guilt of Black. She had done the right thing.

But, she hoped that she was doing the right thing with Alex and Joe…..
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Post by Bernard Black »

My god! Bernard thought to himself in disbelief. This trip to the university is the longest journey EVER! I knew congestion was getting bad, but this is ridiculous...

















:P
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Post by Mistress Cathy »

:haha: :haha: :haha: :haha:

Rush hour traffic, dear. :wink:
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Post by Loredoctor »

My apologies; I will endeavour to have the next turn completed within two days. The game will proceed as normal.
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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