What a scare last night. I had closed my eyes for just a moment, and woke with a start, ready to rush out to the bulletin board. But just then several villagers stumbled past my window, the stench of homebrew close behind. Our local Procyonidae expert was among them, praising his mates for their exuberant attempts at replicating the coon mating call…in not so many words.
So I had let the drunken foolery of some of my more upstanding citizens seep its way into my dream. Quite a vivid and disheartening one at that. The villagers had suffered misfortune at every turn, their every choice playing right into the wolves hands. They were handicapped by the very rules and code of conduct I had put in place to help defeat our cunning enemy.
I will take heed of my subconscious. I have already begun rewriting our constitution and putting even more rules into place so that we might avert the terrible disaster of my nighttime imaginations.
I dare not let spookymilk ever come across this journal. I might be lynched on the spot for having such convenient dreams.
It has been nearly two weeks of vigorous study, quizzes, and role play, but I think the villagers have a firm grasp on the new rules. I think we are prepared, and not a day too soon. Several villagers went out on a hunt this afternoon and came across the carcasses of several deer that had been torn to shreds. They swear that the tracks in the area were unmistakably those of werewolves.
I have called night early and sent everyone home in preparation. Bless us father, whoever you are.
Day ends at 9:30 p.m.
8 votes needed for a majority, 4 minimum to be lynched.
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The Dread Pirate
Tags: Taciturnsville 2