Something's gone wrong in the small, isolated farm town of Hill City, Kansas. People have vanished in the night, terrible reasons have been given for the disappearances, and it's up to one small group of individuals to save their community. Will you be one of them?
Invasion! Players wrote:
AlternateTorg
balthazar
CCC
chaosman
Save the Greyhounds
Stan Cold
Invasion is a werewolf style game set in 1956. For those who have never played werewolves before,
this site is a good reference. Of course, this game is played as an RPG, so all interaction is done in character including night roles.
I'm hoping for about 9 people, but we can play a short game with 7 or a longer game with 12 depending on interest. Have a bit of an opener for a taste.
******
Ike’s eyes shot open. Every inch of his body prickled with sweat. Slowly he sat up, his breath shaky, and pushed away his light comforter. Images from the dream that shook him from his sleep flickered in his mind’s eye: thousands of cold, penetrating eyes staring down from heaven. Watching. He wiped his brow with his nightshirt and glanced over at his wife’s calm, sleeping form.
“Mamie,” he whispered as he reached a hand out to his wife and laid it gently on her curlers. She stirred slightly and sighed, but did not wake. Ike relaxed, gently moved the comforter from his legs and pushed himself out of bed.
Two of the four Secret Service agents waiting outside his door detached themselves as he moved down the hall. He waved at them absently and continued through the corridors until he reached the office. HIS office, for now. Another Service man standing at the entrance opened the door, admitting Ike and his entourage. The door closed with a click, and Ike’s team positioned themselves at either end of the office. One thoughtfully flicked a switch, illuminating the silent room. Ike ignored the men, as he’d grown so used to doing in the past six years, and sat behind his desk. He shuffled through stacks of paper, sorting but not seeing the piles in front of him, and stared at a clock in the wall. He snorted. Three o’ clock. Nothing to do for hours but wait for the world to awaken. He leaned back in his chair and sighed.
The lights flickered and blinked out. A beam of pure, blinding white light shined in front of the president’s desk. Ike threw a hand up in front of his face and blinked. A tall, willowy man in a dark blue suit stood in the middle of the beam, a toothless smile twisting his face. The Agents leaped into action, pulling their handguns and aiming at the man.
“Don’t move!” one cried.
The man’s smile tightened. He did not move as the Agents slumped to the ground, guns falling useless from their hands. The willowy man’s sharp green eyes sparkled. A clear, high tenor echoed off the walls of the room.
“Good morning Mr. Eisenhower.”
Ike tensed. His bum heart ricocheted against his ribs. His face remained calm. Slowly he placed his lifted hand on the desk, and focused his efforts on keeping the hand from shaking. He cleared his throat.
“So. It seems I have the pleasure of assassination by an expert,” he said, his voice gruff. “Well. Get to it, man. I’ve already made peace with my maker months ago thanks to this damnable heart of mine. Give Khrushchev my best.”
The willowy man’s eyes flashed, the smile widened.
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Eisenhower,” he said. “We are here for…other matters. This is a simultaneous message to those leaders of what you’re kind call…’countries’…that We have deemed appropriate as receivers.” He chuckled. “You are taking things quite well compared to some. We are amused.”
Ike stared at the man, speechless. An eerie feeling washed over him as the man spoke. Something was wrong. Woefully wrong. It struck him like a charged jolt. The man’s mouth. It had not yet opened to speak. Ike swallowed hard.
“Who are you?” He forced the words from his throat.
“We have been watching your kind for a long time,” the man said. He cocked his head. “Perhaps…three centuries by your time? Five? Perhaps longer? No matter. We have watched you evolve across your globe, watched your funny little societies grow, wither and die. Some watch, others test. Your kind has been invaluable for our scientific research. Do you know how far we’ve come medically thanks to your little planet?” the man chuckled again, his body stiff, his lips still.
“Why.” Ike cleared his throat. “Why are you telling me this?”
The man’s smile drooped slightly.
“There is a problem,” he said, his cheerful voice now chastising. “You seem to be on the brink of annihilation. We never worried much about your wasteful use of resources or your many, many wars. Our anthropologists reveled in the barbarism while Our biologists simply set up a few parameters of protection for Their test subjects and let the human purge happen around Them. But unfortunately…” a flash and the translucent image of a mushroom cloud appeared before the man. “Oh dear, oh dear. Perhaps We should have paid more attention to your petty conflicts. At first We were concerned, but We remained calm. Surely you weren’t capable of greater destruction than this, what you call the ‘A-bomb.’ But no…more weaponry arrived. And more countries produced it! The ‘H-bomb’. The ‘Clean bomb’. And then the stock-piling! What a conundrum.” The man’s head dipped slightly. “We were at a crossroads.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Ike said, shaking his head, bemused. “These weapons haven’t been used yet, but the one time. And that was a desperate act!”
“You are correct,” the man said. “They have not been used. Yet. But what if they are, Mr. Eisenhower? Complete decimation for your species, sir. So many years of research, wasted. Unacceptable. So We met as one to answer the Human question.”
The man paused. His eyes closed.
“And?” Ike’s hand balled into a fist. “AND?” he said, pounding the table.
“Temper, Mr. Eisenhower.” The man’s eyes opened. “There were three factions. One wished to leave you to your own will. The Humanity Society. Hah! But this is the argument They’ve made for many years now. Another wished to cut its losses. Cull the herd, Control the rest.”
“Control?”
“Yes, Control, sir,” the man’s voice seemed to barely hold back laughter. “The human mind is easily manipulated. Domesticated. No thoughts enter the mind save what We desire, and instinct of course. Eating. Breeding. Some would be playthings for Those who want their own Human Being. Most would be testing subjects for Those who needed live bodies. But the transport costs, the costs of building facilities on this planet, the logistics of Controlling and Culling entire populations. Such a hassle. Plus the poor Anthropologist’s dreams of someday lifting you sad, savage creatures from the dust. Crushed.” The man’s laughter was piercing. His body remained still. “You see how it is.”
Ike peered at the man, bile bubbling up from his stomach.
“What’s the third option?” he spat. “You-“
“The third option,” the man cut in quickly. “The third option is the test. Can you, as a species, remain calm and logical in illogical situations? Or will emotion ultimately lead you to your end?”
The man’s hand jutted into his jacket and pulled out a large, white envelope. He reached his arm over the desk and dropped the envelope on top of Ike’s paper stack.
“Prepare yourself, Mr. Eisenhower. I assure you, it is in your best interest.” The man straightened, his high-pitched laughter ringing in Ike’s ears as the beam and the man blinked out of sight and the lights of the Oval Office flickered on.
There was a minute of calm. Ike held his breath. The phone on his desk clanged. He jumped, slammed his desk angrily and answered the phone.
“What? Yes, Eddie, of course I got the damn message!” Ike covered his eyes with one trembling hand. “We have work to do, sir, that’s what.”
EDIT to add werewolves rules site.