OOC Workshop: Combat

Name: OOC Workshop: Combat
Start: 2025-10-12T10:30:00-07:00
End: 2025-10-12T11:30:00-07:00

October 12 @ 10:30 am - 11:30 am

Join our mentors for a combat refresher, which will go over basic guidelines as well as any questions you may have!

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Devils%20Pocket/237/243/35

Details

Date: October 12
Time:
10:30 am - 11:30 am
Event Category: Workshop

November 10, 2025

Word on the street... In the cracked shadow of Hathian, yesterday’s storms brewed darker than bayou-black coffee. Word on the street is an entire pack of fake cops—one even suited as a lewd mutt—stormed the HPD, dousing an officer in gasoline and dragging her out before scattering like rats at dawn. Some say a pregnant woman staggered from Lou’s, stabbed for old vendettas; the pavement still stains red. Meanwhile, alley eyes mutter about a flurry of bat-wielding assaults and a cop left reeling, her badge battered as quick fists and quicker tempers ruled the curb. The city’s uneasy peace? Just a rumor waiting to be broken.

October 27, 2025

Whispers in the bayou... Another night slid through the rotten teeth of Laveau, and the bayou whispered secrets between the slick brick alleys. Word dripped from the marina that someone snuck illicit cargo off a battered trawler—boxes that glowed faint in the dark, guarded by men who didn’t blink at gunfire. Meanwhile, at the Barracuda, an argument between a wildcard regular and a Syndicate hardcase left a shattered glass and more than one black eye for the floor to clean up. And atop the old jazz bar’s balcony, a shadow broker met with desperate souls, peddling rumors that the Penitentiary’s silence is about to break. Watch your back—Laveau’s hungry.

November 10, 2025

Rumors on campus... Yesterday at Columtreal University, rumors slithered through the ivy faster than the wind off the bayou. Whispers swore someone slipped from the shadows near Witch Way Alley—where the scent of incense masked the tang of secrets—and vanished behind shelves of arcane trinkets, just as a nervous student staggered out, white as chalk. Meanwhile, the campus clinic buzzed with hushed urgency; someone reportedly arrived with more questions than wounds—some say they were running from something not quite human. And as dusk crept over the old asylum’s stones, a hush fell, broken only by speculation of midnight rites and the flicker of forbidden ambitions.

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OOC Workshop: Combat

Details

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