The bell was never supposed to ring again.
Not after the last time.
The villagers remember that night in fragments: the fog rolling in thick enough to swallow the streets, the way the lantern light bent and flickered as if afraid, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing behind closed doors. Someone screamed. Someone prayed. And by morning, someone was missing.
No one ever agrees on when the town truly fell apart. Some say it was when the accusations started — neighbors pointing fingers at friends they’d known their whole lives. Others say it was when the votes were cast, when the crowd decided that fear was safer than doubt. What everyone agrees on is this: evil didn’t arrive with claws and fire. It arrived with a smile, a calm voice, and the promise that it was on your side.
This is the world of Blood on the Clocktower.
It’s a social deduction game where every player has a secret role and no one can be fully trusted. Villagers work together to uncover the truth, while hidden demons and their minions spread lies, confusion, and doubt. Conversations happen in whispers. Public accusations spark heated debate. One moment of misplaced trust can doom the entire town.
The game thrives on tension, storytelling, and dramatic reveals — the kind where the whole table goes silent before exploding into laughter or shock.
Admission is $5, and all you need to bring is your wits… and a willingness to lie convincingly.
Trust carefully.
The clock is always ticking.
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