That's right. Invent a town. We'll be working in a town from the middle-ages, pre-gunpowder. Come up with some names and charactaristics of some of the people in the town, invent some areas of the town, name some taverns, who is in charge of the town, etc?

Have fun with it, this is just a stupid forum game, after all. Create some lore and gossip if you will.

For obvious reasons, the town will be called Plimetown.

Let the games begin.

Thankfully, it will be a town of taste and intellect (unless we're all drunk) and therefore there won't be cheesy dance/pop songs called Plimelicious.

...and as an Irishman, I must throw my name in the hat to run at least one pub, which I will call "The Upvote".

There was a bit of activity near the well this afternoon, and every afternoon for the last week. A crazed man named Fred Brans has been standing on the edge of the deep stone well and preaching his ludacris worldy views to the disgust of the masses. Some of the Plimetownians briefly discussed shoving him in, but they decided not to on the basis that he would taint the water. And so he was tolerated for some time, but each day the crowd that gathered to hear his absurd sermons started to dwindle in size until Fred Brans found himself preaching to no one but him self this very afternoon. He returned to his home with his head hung low, vowing never to return to the well. It is said that he still preaches his sermons from the bank of a nearby river.

Today, John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt went out, and everybody, as usual, just had to shout "There goes John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt!". So he commited suicide.

i wanna run the town brothel

Such a tragedy. I heard he was a great guy. But people just had to bombard him with constant harassment. If only the Brothel had opened sooner! He could have released his pent up anger and rage there, and the whores would have been screaming "JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT!"

Helena Strasser is Plimetown's barmaid. A beautiful yet cunning young woman, she knows just how to manipulate any man into getting prescisely what she desires from them - and isn't afraid of adding a few 'herbs' to their ale just to do so.
As of today, however, she is the focus of the town gossip - she is undeniably with child but betrothed to no-one. How could such a woman let herself fall from god's good graces?

This evening, Helena sits alone in her room behind the pub, staring at a flickering candle and contemplating her future. Tomorrow, she decides, she will pay a visit to Magdalena, the heathen woman who lives in a hut in the forest outside of town.

'There goes JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT..... off the cliff......"

Into the tavern walked Don Teatpoop, who promptly sat down on his favorite stool after a long day selling fertilizer. It was a well used stool that had worn a bit with use to fit the contors of his ass. He asked for the house porter and waited patiently for his brew.

How the hell do you make the text bold?

try a sharpee marker

[ b ] and [ /b ] You know, but without the spaces.

At the other end of town is the community courthouse, up on top of Downvote Hill.

The judge, though a thoughtful man and pillar of the community is said to have been born bad.

Since this is a peaceful and mostly self-policed community, he has lots of time to trade news and gossip with other well respected members of the community such as the Sue B. (attorney at law), the local kindly parson-turned-fisherman that all simply called BT, the local Pub owner (who has never been sober enough to share a pronouncable name), the traveling fertilizer salesman DEP (who always advises we do not consume his wares), and, of course, the town's founder Jaxom the lotus eater.

Oh and look, there goes Bob, the local playboy- in the daydreams of all the girls- in Plimetown. What a swinger. What a dreamer. What an artist.
Today he's playing an acoustic guitar under the old apple tree on Hazel Hill, long flowing hair gently flying in the breeze.

What he is doing sitting on her we don't know. Perhaps he is overly fond of Hazel's long flowing hair.

Mr. Hill, however, is less than amused at his daughters choice to hang out with a musician. Well, at least he isn't a drummer.

You're a smart man.

"Flattery will get you everywhere."...

... said Helena the barmaid in a deep sultry voice.

People withoutville!

As I walked down the twisted and darkened road I found a box, it had a key lying beside it. After opening the box, I discovered a town inside the box. YES, a town for the little people.

As word spread of this amazing discovery, the little people rejoiced. Our savour has found us a town. Lets celebrate in his honour! Hurrah!

I shall call this town. Grasslands.

Well that didn't take long.

4th post in the Town thread and I'm already broke.

A new stranger is in Plimetown. And he will be here to kick ass and take names. That is once he is done moving in...rumor has it he will be taking an extended leave of absence to finish that move...but when he returns, Plimetown will be a town with LAWS...and RULES...and CONSEQUENCES.

For Plimetown will have a new sheriff! And that sheriff's name will be MOE

So watch yourself, grapehead! [SLAP]