Generia, a land
familiar to all and yet different enough to avoid copyright problems,
stretches from the Dragonliketeeth Mountains of Snjowvinlandia in the
north to the ever shifting sands of Arabish in the south where
swarthy men race shamels and worship heathen gods. In the capital
city of Generia, Thyngumy, amid towering edifices of oldness stand the hundred
mighty statues of the City's fierce gods that protect her people and aren't
heathen at all for some reason I can't quite work out.
It is in Thyngumy that
you were born an orphan and then, along with thousands of others,
whisked away by kindly priests who raised you as their own children
who, if they had any, would also have been bloodthirsty warriors. For
eighteen years you have trained hard in all the martial arts,
sticking, slicing, hitting, batting, nipping and name calling. You
are the foremost among your fellows.
Upon your name day you
were brought before the hight priest, Hippocrastinese, and finally
told why you had been worked so hard for all of your young life.
Shockingly, for people who have never read a book, it turns out that
is is statistically likely that you (or one of the thousands of others
taken by this actually-quite-sinister-if-you-think-about-it order) may
be the one to fulfill an ancient prophecy.
Shocked by this
revelation you sit and the priest tells you that before you leave on
your quest you must give him some information. First, he asks your
name. Before you can get annoyed at the fact this man has trained you
for eighteen years and can't remember your name you remember that a
mysterious order has to have some mysteries or it isn't very
mysterious and presume this is just one of them.
Then Hippocrastinese
asks you what sex you are, explaining they were never sure and
thought it rude to ask until now. This quite annoys you.
Lastly he asks you
what race you are, explaining that for himself he's really not
bothered about such things but there are quotas you know and they
wouldn't want anyone to feel left out though just between you and him
he does think dwarves smell a bit.
Then he asks you to
leave your character details in the comments and when the game starts
on Tuesday the 12th to use the hashtag #CYOA on twitter.
Bemused by these ritual words you gather your equipment:
Female Characters get
class specific armour.
The Revealing Armour
Bikini of Protection.
Male Characters get
class specific armour.
The Swollen Manpouch of
Protective Stuffing.
All Characters carry
the Massive Greatsword 'Impractica' and a magical bow called I dunno,
Shooty or something*.
Now, prepare to leave
and begin the quest of....
THE WARLOCK OF DUNGEON
TRAPPED DEATHS!
*I've given this literally minutes of thought.
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