Librafield - Part One - Noctids Actual Play

As this game of Noctids unfolds we are going to publish the news each morning to allow you to follow along. To protect the secrecy of the game these posts will contain only the daily news at first. Out of character details will be added to the posts after the has finished.

Thank you for following along.

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Game Details

• 23 Total Players

• 6 Werewolf

• 3 Hunter(ess)

• 1 Witch Doctor

• 1 Priest(ess)

• 1 Elder

• 1 Night Watchman

• 7 Villagers

• 1 Medium

• 1 Community Watch

• 1 Coward

• 1 Double Agent

Scenario: Village

Setting: Librafield, a Dark-Noir 1920's city

Optional Rules: Shared Devine Protection

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"Welcome to Librafield."

That is what I tell the new ones, though the words taste like gravel. Nobody ever really arrives here. You just end up here. Maybe the train didn’t stop where you wanted. Maybe the fog crept a little thicker that night and you followed it. Maybe you ran from something worse and this place smiled at you with crooked teeth. Whatever the case, once you’re in Librafield, you’re part of its joke.

The streets wear their history like a threadbare coat. Old mills with windows black as eye sockets. Churches where the stones lean inward as if listening to the prayers no one dares speak anymore. Even the lamplight looks tired, like it’s seen too much and would rather not bother.

Surveying the City

I work out of a room above a tailor’s shop. Peeling wallpaper, cracked ceiling, window that doesn’t quite shut. The kind of office that tells you the truth about the man inside it. The phone rings when it wants, the rent collector bangs when he feels like it, and the fog never waits for permission.

By day, Librafield pretends. Shoppers shuffle, kids skip rope, workers punch clocks. But come evening the masks slip, and you hear the city mutter. Coins clink in alleys where they should not. Lovers whisper things that sound more like confessions. A tram squeals too sharply, and you wonder if it was the brakes or something pulling back on the wires.

I have seen faces vanish in rain puddles, reflections that walk off before their owners do, and smiles that linger in doorways long after the mouths that made them have left. I have seen plenty of things that keep me from sleeping, and more that keep me from drinking myself under the table. Because if you stop paying attention, Librafield notices. And when Librafield notices you, it never forgets.

So, welcome. Truly. Light up if you got one, keep your back to a wall, and remember this: the city doesn’t owe you anything. If you’re lucky, you get to leave with the same soul you walked in with. If not, well... Librafield always finds a use for what’s left.