**BENEATH THE TREES - RPG**

Appearance: Samantha Strong (Brown Bear)Role: Owner of Strong’s Hardware; the unofficial matriarch of Woodbrook.

Appearance & Outfit: Stout, imposing yet maternal, with neat fur and a warm, practiced smile. She wears classic, tidy small-town attire—button-up blouses, sensible slacks or skirts, and a crisp, spotless apron while working at the store.

Personality: Polite, nurturing, civic-minded, and fiercely devoted to keeping Woodbrook peaceful, clean, and predictable. She is the neighbor everyone trusts with their spare keys and personal troubles.

Secret Downside / Struggle: Samantha is a meticulous, disciplined serial killer. She views murder not as chaos, but as a compulsion she manages through strict rules—primarily never killing in Woodbrook so she never ruins her own idyllic life. Her central struggle is keeping her predator instincts compartmentalized from her genuine affection for her peaceful town, especially once someone else starts leaving bodies on her turf and threatens to expose her.

Sheriff Patterson (Bloodhound)Role: Woodbrook’s Chief of Police.

Appearance & Outfit: Broad-shouldered, weathered, with drooping jowls and tired, watchful eyes. He wears a standard tan-and-brown small-town sheriff’s uniform, complete with a badge, utility belt, and wide-brimmed campaign hat.

Personality: Stoic, methodical, and deeply protective of Woodbrook’s citizens. He comes across as a slow-talking country lawman, but he is far sharper and more observant than outsiders assume.

Secret Downside / Struggle: He is completely out of his depth when true, calculated evil arrives in town, yet his sense of duty won’t let him walk away. He struggles with the mounting paranoia that the killer isn't an outsider passing through, meaning he has to suspect neighbors and friends he has known his entire life—including Samantha.

Mayor Honeyman (Badger)Role: Mayor of Woodbrook.

Appearance & Outfit: Well-groomed, slightly pompous posture, dressed in tailored vintage-style suits, vests, and ties that make him look like a politician from a 1950s postcard.

Personality: Enthusiastic, image-obsessed, and relentlessly upbeat. He loves ribbons, festivals, speeches, and projecting the image that Woodbrook is the happiest, safest town in the country.

Secret Downside / Struggle: Cowardice and denial. Honeyman cares far more about Woodbrook’s reputation and property values than actual truth or justice. When dark things begin happening, his instinct is to sweep them under the rug, downplay panic, and preserve appearances at all costs—making him dangerously easy to manipulate.

On the surface, Woodbrook is the absolute pinnacle of cozy, autumnal Americana—the kind of place that smells perpetually of woodsmoke, wet pine needles, and cinnamon rolls.

The Town Square & Main StreetThe heart of Woodbrook is compact, walkable, and meticulously maintained. Brick storefronts with striped awnings line a single main road, housing everything a small community needs: Strong’s Hardware, a retro chrome-and-vinyl diner, a sleepy post office, a small library, and a general store with crates of local apples stacked neatly out front. There’s no litter, no graffiti, and no chain stores. Every flower box is watered; every fence is freshly painted.

The Architecture & HomesThe residential streets—like Maple Street, where your new place sits—are lined with two-story clapboard houses, wrap-around porches, and steep gabled roofs built to handle heavy winter snow. Giant maples and oaks arch over the roads, dropping carpets of burnt-orange and gold leaves across manicured lawns. Most houses have deep basements or storm cellars tucked behind neatly trimmed hedges.

The Surrounding WoodsBeyond the last streetlight, the town stops abruptly. Woodbrook isn't connected to a sprawling highway network; it’s nestled deep inside a massive, old-growth forest of towering pines, firs, and tangled underbrush. During the day, sunlight filters through the canopy in dusty golden shafts, making the woods look peaceful, almost idyllic.

At night, however, the environment turns claustrophobic. There are no city lights to bleed into the sky, so once dusk hits, the darkness outside the town limits is absolute. The trees press in so tightly around Woodbrook that the main road out feels less like an exit and more like a tunnel—and because the town is so isolated, cell service is spotty at best, leaving you almost entirely reliant on landlines, local gossip, and whatever happens within the town limits.