The Watering Hole
Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2016 3:07 am
You've traveled to the bustling city of Lycopolis on the western bank of the Nile for Sandy Wolf Fest '16. Here the great god Osiris is worshiped in the form of a wolf, commemorating an invading horde being driven from this area by a pack of wolves many centuries ago, and an even older myth that Osiris came in the form of a wolf to the aid of Aset and Horus against the monstrous giant Typhon in a battle that took place here.
Wandering off the beaten path, past the many temples and through the busy marketplace, you've come upon a pub on the outskirts of the city. The locals tell you the pub is called the Watering Hole. Not for the faint of heart, the Watering Hole has a reputation for attracting a rough and tumble crowd. It's said that a gang of shapeshifters frequent this pub every weekend, and after an evening of drunken debauchery they transform into a pack of wolves and lay siege to neighboring cities, their midnight howls the only warning that the pack is approaching.
Intrigued, and never one to turn down an adventure, you walk into the dimly lit, smoke-filled pub. You approach the bar and see a heavily tattooed bartender with a patch covering his right eye. You can't help but chuckle when you hear someone call the bartender Patch, but you stop chuckling when Patch looks your way, his one grey eye glaring at you.
"What'll it be?" Patch growls. You're thinking something strong, and probably a double.
Wandering off the beaten path, past the many temples and through the busy marketplace, you've come upon a pub on the outskirts of the city. The locals tell you the pub is called the Watering Hole. Not for the faint of heart, the Watering Hole has a reputation for attracting a rough and tumble crowd. It's said that a gang of shapeshifters frequent this pub every weekend, and after an evening of drunken debauchery they transform into a pack of wolves and lay siege to neighboring cities, their midnight howls the only warning that the pack is approaching.
Intrigued, and never one to turn down an adventure, you walk into the dimly lit, smoke-filled pub. You approach the bar and see a heavily tattooed bartender with a patch covering his right eye. You can't help but chuckle when you hear someone call the bartender Patch, but you stop chuckling when Patch looks your way, his one grey eye glaring at you.
"What'll it be?" Patch growls. You're thinking something strong, and probably a double.