Ten years ago today, and likely at about this time, a skinny fowl temptress convinced me to join some silly Tolkien website she'd been lurking on for a while.
"It's fun," she said.
"You'll like it," she said.
"Have you heard my one hour summary of the Silm?" she said.
That's probably when I tuned her out, but two and a half hours later, she was still talking, and I had joined my first Werewolf game. I don't regret a moment of it. (Well, maybe
the phantom.
)
Cheers to all of you fine people! I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, but I've killed some of you exactly as much as you deserve.
Here's to ten years of being dead, and hopefully to many more!