The Campground [Concluded]
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning
I'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
~ Harry McClintock
A campground, Clinton, Iowa, United States.
The myth of the American vagabond, the traveler roaming across the country, in search of exactly what nobody is certain, is a very prevalent one in society. Countless tales have been written over the years; stories, legends, apocrypha. The archetype has become almost overused in society, to the point where today's writers and chroniclers always look elsewhere for their tales for fear of not being taken seriously.
What few people realize is that the American vagabond is not a myth. It still exists - it always has and always will - on the fringes of society, maybe not as numerous or as prevalent as it once was, but still there. These lonely figures crisscross the country, come across each other and pass like ships in the night, always moving to the great land of Elsewhere. These people have their secret places, and every so often when in the need of rest or company, will congregate there briefly before inevitably setting off again.
The campground in Clinton, Iowa, is one of these places. Clinton, a sleepy river town with a for-profit college and a fast-food shack run by Flava Flav himself, has its quirks and peculiarities much like any other American town. The great road U.S. Route 30, the former old Lincoln Highway, runs through the town and crosses the Mississippi here. It is this road that most of our travelers have come through on, and it is off this road they will veer to take rest for the night.
These travelers, these lonely Americans, congregate here through the night. They say their hellos, some trade items, some trade stories, but for the most part they ignore each other and look for a comfortable place to sleep for the night. But then, two things happen during the night. First, a freak storm hits, leaving the only dirt road in and out of the campground a muddy lake. The Mississippi has overflowed and flooded, and there will be no leaving for a while. Everybody groans and worries about rationing their food and other basic necessities. The second thing, however, is far worse. Someone turns on a radio.
"Two dangerous felons have escaped from the Clinton Hospital for the Criminally Insane," the newscaster says, with just the perfect inflection designed to scare the wits out of anybody listening and still be taken seriously as a broadcaster. "Their whereabouts are currently unknown, but police have advised to stay out of isolated areas such as alleys, fields, and campgrounds. Please be sure to lock your doors at all times and do not let your children venture out alone."
The campers all look at each other. They know Clinton well. It has to be here. This is the downside of life as the American Vagabond, the understated danger of living on the road. And now they are going to have to deal with the consequences. Each tries to get some sleep during the night, but it is a futile pursuit. They know that, in the morning, something is going to be done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rules, etc.:
This is a vanilla mafia game, designed for 17 people. There will be two mafiosi who know each other's identities and are not allowed to kill each other at night. They get one kill per night, no matter their numbers (unless it is zero). There will be no other power roles.
This game, along with Andres's previous large game, will provide you good training for the first of the games that will be part of the Gameroom Anniversary Celebration, which will happen in a month and be hosted by yours truly. I'm sure you can all guess what kind of format it's going to be and even the title (), but that's going to have to wait. For now, enjoy your light and fun Small Game! Please post to sign up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Signed up: (17/17)
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TheLastDays
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(Romanic)
Originally Posted by TosaInu
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