Bloodsunrise

From Create Your Own Story

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The story begins with you in the Queen's Leg tavern one late afternoon. You are peering over your mug in a vaguely drunken haze, while the setting sun fills the room with a dull red light. For a moment, you imagine that you are in hell.
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The story begins with you in the Queen's Leg tavern one late afternoon. It's a typical night there, with the constant hum of conversation punctuated by occasional laughs and shouts.  
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It's an ordinary night in the Queen's Leg, a constant hum of conversation punctuated by occasional laughs and shouts. You sit at one shadowed end of the tavern, near a small second-floor balcony (reserved for the wealthier customers who want to avoid the common rabble).
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You sit at one shadowed end of the tavern, near a small second-floor balcony (reserved for the wealthier customers who want to avoid the common rabble).  
Sitting there, you begin to notice that the general noise of conversation is growing steadily louder. And it seems to be coming from upstairs, where a heated argument can be overheard. You try to listen to the words, and manage to catch an angry gravelly voice saying, "Three thousand? You must be joking you filthy pirate!"
Sitting there, you begin to notice that the general noise of conversation is growing steadily louder. And it seems to be coming from upstairs, where a heated argument can be overheard. You try to listen to the words, and manage to catch an angry gravelly voice saying, "Three thousand? You must be joking you filthy pirate!"

Current revision as of 00:40, 13 July 2011

The story begins with you in the Queen's Leg tavern one late afternoon. It's a typical night there, with the constant hum of conversation punctuated by occasional laughs and shouts.

You sit at one shadowed end of the tavern, near a small second-floor balcony (reserved for the wealthier customers who want to avoid the common rabble).

Sitting there, you begin to notice that the general noise of conversation is growing steadily louder. And it seems to be coming from upstairs, where a heated argument can be overheard. You try to listen to the words, and manage to catch an angry gravelly voice saying, "Three thousand? You must be joking you filthy pirate!"

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