Continue your tirade
From Create Your Own Story
Undaunted by the change of environment, you continue to outline your improvised sonnet for all to hear. Unfortunatly the pathos of your speech seems to strike a particularly unpleasant chord with your cellmate, who sends you into a state of unconciousness from which you never return.
- You have died. Your score is 2 out of 600 giving you the rank of "Retarded Lout".
Status | ||
Health | 0 | You have:
No life |
MP | 0 | |
Level | 1 |