The Zombie apocalypse has come! No-one knows how it started, or where, or why. But the dead have risen, and are hungry for the brains of the living.

A small group of survivors have found themselves trapped in a room, with only each other for company, and a horde of walking corpses outside. And now the real battle for survival begins - with each other.

A short (1 - 2 hour) minilarp by J. Tuomas Harviainen and Roger Gammans.

You've just had the worst week of your life. This thing happened, and it was awful, and no matter what you tried to do about it, it was still unspeakably horrible. Well, almost unspeakably. That's what Friday night drinks are for - to sit down with your mates, have a stiff one, and vent about all the stuff that's been happening in your life. Just wait 'til they hear what happened to you.

As an expert in your field it's not uncommon for you to be approached by organisations who want your assistance. So when a representative of "DeNeCo" got in touch you were quite happy to consider their proposal. The initial brief was vague (the accompanying confidentiality agreement was much more robust) but they paid well. Very well. After doing some research on DeNeCo you decided to accept the offer.

For the past 2 years you've visited the facilities once every 6 months with a group of other experts who have a wide variety of skills. The work is engaging and challenging and is similar in many respects to other projects you've been a part of - with two major exceptions: You don't know what you're actually helping develop, and you're always brought to the facility wearing a blindfold.

Note: This game may not be suitable for players with claustrophobia or who otherwise might not be comfortable being blindfolded for a long period of time. Players will likely be leaving the building for all or a portion of the round. Pre-registration essential as character bios will be mailed out in advance of the game. Any costuming required (minimal) will be provided at start of game.

Dramatic Millennium Dome robbery!

The Millennium Dome was raided earlier today by an intrepid armed gang, who used a JCB to break in and steal the De Beers diamonds worth an estimated 220 million pounds. They escaped by speedboat up the Thames.

If you have any information as to their whereabouts call Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111.

Two pirate crews descend upon the sleepy Caribbean island of Santo Oloroso to avenge the death of their former master Captain Flint, or to find and grab his treasure. Old enmities will surface, deals will be made and broken, and some folk will swing from the yard-arm while others receive the dreaded Black Spot, before these affairs are settled for good or ill.

Time was that everybody who was anybody went to seances. Time was that there was a living to made out of being a medium. Some of them were fakes, sure - But some of them were for real, and could put you in touch with the dead. For many rich people, mediums were a necessity. Who else would provide a link with family long gone? In the occult-obsessed 1920s it hit fever pitch, and both the good and the bad mediums thrived in an atmosphere of appreciation.

The Calvino Bay Book Club has been meeting for a few months now. It's been OK. The books you've been looking at have hopped around the literary spectrum from the 'classics' like Austen and Dickens, whatever new wunderkind book has got the critics excited, and that time someone wanted to talk about Harry Potter. Something for everyone, you reckon, and you get to meet people you wouldn't otherwise know.

But now, oh now, you're going to talk about The Book. That Book, the one you read when you were 18 that suddenly made the universe make sense to you. The Book that helped you work out who you were as a person. You want, no, you have a visceral need to make everyone else understand what The Book means to you.

September 6th, 2248: For the past three years Earth has been fighting a losing war against a massively superior alien race known as the Minbari. Now the Minbari fleet has come to Earth. A call has gone out for everyone able to fly a ship to report to a muster station. From there, you have been moved out to near a military airfield and told to wait pending an announcement that should come in an hour or two.

The flickering light of neon signs illuminate the blood soaked streets from their lofty perch atop the corporate towers of NeoSteelsberg. These mega corporations tower over the darkened streets of the city, but in those streets, just beyond their reach lie the true power of the city.

This power has become is fractured, years of war have rent the underworld families and divided this once strong Mafia powerbase. On any normal night, the air would be filled with the stench of blood and the scream of police sirens, but tonight is special. Tonight, for just one night, the war ends. The guns are silenced and the blood has time to dry. The powers of the underworld join together to pay their respects to the fallen.

But who was Big Tony? Word on street is rife with rumour. Some say he was a deep cover federal agent, others have him as a member of the ruling body of the Mafia from Sicily, still more connect him with the mega corporations. One thing is true, his death has attracted the attention of all three of the underworld family heads; which forces a second, more dire question.

Who killed Big Tony?

Tonight, the city holds its breath as the three criminal powers meet under the same roof. For this night holds more promise than any in years, this night is maybe the last and only chance for the warring factions of the cities underworld to reach peace once more, or forever rend it asunder.

In top contention; La Cosa Nostra, the Malandrino family. With years of heritage behind them, tonight presents an opportunity to reclaim the city for themselves and to finally rid the streets of an infection they have been forced to share power with for too long, the Irish.

With no need for fancy titles and the pomp and ceremony of their Sicilian counterparts, the Irish Mob has controlled the lower city for decades. Tonight, with the Commissione present, true control of the city is once again within their grasp, but their lofty goals are not without complication.

From the shadows of the new world wide web, the Matrix, a new power has emerged. They need no hit man to kill you or strong-arm to make threats, with but a whisper and keystroke they can steal your very identity. The NeoMafia have struggled against the traditional powers for too long, and now demand recognition.

Tonight, the city holds its breath these warring factions the sit together in an uneasy peace. Traitors will be unmasked. Bonds of friendship made and broken. Love found and lost Peace made or destroyed Tonight, amidst the neon glow and fading gun smoke, the fate of NeoSteelsberg will be decided.

Mafia 2071.